Author's note: (I am sure you are aware that I gave my character two names, Glove and also Monare. They are the same character, okay... enjoy the story)
This household's foundation was built on farming; there in front of Glove's eyes was a cornucopia of maize, spinach, grapes, almonds, and tea on various plots of land to the right, while the center of the field was filled with a little chicken house. On the far left, close to the farm's entrance, Quinn was placing two horses in a polished wood stable while the kraal was teeming with sheep and goats.
Quinn saw Glove, who was perplexed and gazed about the property with a sense of awe in his eyes.
"First time seeing a farm?"
Glove stared at Quinn, puzzled, as he continued:
"For the average Arthesian, this is a relatively tiny farm. "You see the ones passing the hills," he added, pointing to the north.
"I hope I do one day"
Quinn scoffed, adding:
"Unless you buy your freedom"
Glove smiled and spoke:
"Not in the future for me at the moment"
"You really want to be shackled; it must be a dream for you. Okay, you do your job because I'll be gone for the evening, along with the master's family. Your task is to watch after the crops from those who reside in the earth. Second, offer water to the livestock, including the horses. I've already given them water; the water that will be poured will be for tomorrow morning.
Quinn halted and glanced to the stars in profound thinking, "The night may bring calamity if not careful. The map tells us a lot, yet we are so ignorant."
"I am sorry," Glove asked, perplexed.
Quinn's attention returned as he looked to the field with a pleasant smile, adding:
"I hope my night and yours are eventful in a good way, okay bye"
As he finished, Quinn returned to the dwelling and unexpectedly said:
"Oh there is a weapon in the stables to protect yourself"
Glove waved his hand in understanding and dashed for the stable. The horses were eating hay in slow rhythm; Glove caressed them both as he approached the corner, where he noticed a sack with holes cut in it. The holes were cut where the head, hips, and hands would be; it was clothes, but we'll never know who owned it.
Glove took the sack and wore it over his worn bare body; he had stated that he did not require any more from Asterios and Hera, and they had provided him with enough. Glove felt warm, which reminded him of sitting by the fire with his father and reading history books.
Glove now resembled a filthy, mistreated slave, which he considered a decent disguise. First, he got his weapon, a tiny lawn scythe.
Glove scoffed and shrugged, deciding that the weapon was enough; after all, he was a tied being. He had the ability to defend himself if things got worse; along with the scythe was a little rope that he fastened around his waist.
He attached the scythe to the rope like a sheath. Glove looked to the sky as his eyes turned blue; he gazed around the farm with interest and sighed, as if he hadn't found what he was seeking for.
"No nexus point here, we will look somewhere tomorrow"
The voice came in:
"Those points are not easy to find ever with your spirit vision"
"Perhaps, let's get going then"
"How can I go when there is nowhere, I can physically leave without killing you?" "Not yet anyway."
"Dream on"
Glove went to his duties for the night; the plants were a bit tiresome due to the water-well was outside the farm. The journey was long and hard, but when it came to the watering, there was a system that guided the water to the crops.
Watering took about 30 minutes, while livestock care took about ten minutes and was fruitful due to him just pouring water for them. After a half an hour, Glove was tired but yearning for more jobs, but he did not have any.
He closed his eyes, sat on the ground next to the fields, crossed his legs, and began breathing deliberately as he inhaled and exhaled. His senses were stationary and regulated, focusing on what lies beneath rather than his surrounds.
His Spirit tether principal affinity was linked to the presence of dampness. So, every human who is tied to a spirit has something called an Exile, which is a word used to give up control of your body to the spirit to which you are attached to.
An exile's condition is a weakness in the tether; if the condition is not met, your powers will not function.
Fortunately, his condition is active as a result of him watering the crops and being exhausted while sweat dripped off his body. His dominating aura faded, as if he were a mouse amid a field of food.
That aura apparently drew a snake that was slithering around; the snake's tongue picked up a scent of prey that it could consume. When it came close, it was struck down by a scaled hand with claws that glimmered blue at night.
The snake perished without realizing he was stepping into a trap; the clawed hand grabbed the snake and brought its face forward.
Glove's eyes opened, with blue as the primary color, and he tilted his head, opening his mouth.
As if time was moving faster, the snake dried out and turned to dust in a matter of seconds. The snake's last remnant was blue energy, which flew to Glove's mouth as he closed it.
He then made some hand motions, and something snapped in his mind. The energy was fed to something that was hungrily swallowing it and growing within like a tumor, throbbing as it consumed the energy.
The entity that ate the energy began to spread to a single location, which contained a shining stone of white pulsing energy. It mingled with the stone, and the stone projected Glove doing hand movements, resulting in the water becoming to ice.
With Glove stating, "Freeze point"
Glove awakens in the real world through the action of opening his eyes.