The Last Breadwinner

In the verdant kingdom of Vastwood, the golden sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the fields where the golden wheat swayed in the gentle breeze. The people of Vastwood lived in harmony, except for one thing—their bread. Bread was more than just sustenance; it was a symbol of life itself. It was rare, precious, and something most could only dream of.

In the humble hovel of young Elara, the breadwinner of her family, the golden loaf sat on the table like a beacon of hope. Elara was not a name known throughout the kingdom, but her deeds were. She was the breadwinner, the one who found the rare wheat in the fields and baked the loaves that kept her family alive. She was a commoner, but her legend had grown like the wheat itself.

One day, as Elara toiled under the scorching sun, a voice echoed through the fields, “Elara, you are the chosen one, the Last Breadwinner.”

Confused, Elara looked around, but saw no one. She shook her head, thinking it was just the wind, or the heat, or some trick of the light. Yet, the voice called her again, “Elara, you are destined to bring the bread of abundance to the kingdom.”

In that moment, Elara felt a strange warmth in her chest, as if the wheat had recognized her true calling. She felt a sense of destiny, of purpose, that had never been there before. But she was a commoner, a lowly breadwinner. How could she be the chosen one?

Days turned into weeks, and the voice continued to call to her. The people of the kingdom began to notice her odd behavior, her silent moments, her eyes reflecting a light that didn’t belong to this world. Whispers spread like wildfire, and soon, the king himself sent a messenger to the hovel.

The messenger, a burly man named Gaius, stepped into Elara’s hovel and dropped a scroll at her feet. “The king commands, commoner. You must come to the castle, to be tested and to reveal your true nature.”

Elara picked up the scroll, her fingers trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. She read the words, and her heart raced. She had a choice to make—accept the king’s command and face the unknown, or remain a commoner, a breadwinner, and never know if she had been the chosen one.

She chose the unknown.

The journey to the castle was long and arduous. She walked through the fields, past the markets where the poor haggled over the last bits of bread, and past the homes where laughter was a rare and precious sound. She saw the pain and suffering of her people, and it fuelled her resolve to be the Last Breadwinner.

When she finally reached the grand gates of the castle, she was greeted by a group of nobles. They examined her, questioned her, and then led her to a great hall filled with people from all corners of the kingdom. The king himself sat on his throne, his eyes fixed on her.

“The people of Vastwood have heard your legend, Elara,” the king began. “They say you are the Last Breadwinner, chosen to bring us the bread of abundance. Prove it.”

Elara stepped forward, her heart pounding. “I will prove it, my lord king. But I need your help. I need the seed of the golden wheat to plant in my fields, to ensure the bread of abundance for all.”

The king smiled, a rare sight on his face. “I will provide you with the seed, and you will have a field to plant it in. But remember, Elara, this is not just a test of your abilities. It is a test of your heart. The kingdom has suffered, and it will be a long journey to restore it.”

Elara nodded, her determination unwavering. She received the seed and the field, and she returned to her home, to her hovel, and to her life as a commoner. But this time, she carried with her the weight of a destiny, the destiny of the Last Breadwinner.

Seasons passed, and Elara worked the soil, planted the seed, and watered the fields with her own sweat and tears. The wheat grew, and it grew golden and thick, more than any had ever seen. The harvest was bountiful, and Elara baked loaves upon loaves, until the markets overflowed with bread.

The people of Vastwood celebrated, and the kingdom thrived. Elara, the commoner, had become the breadwinner of the kingdom, and her legend grew even stronger. But she never forgot the voice that had called to her, the destiny that had been laid before her.

One evening, as she stood in her field, watching the sun dip below the horizon, the voice called to her once more, “Elara, you have done your part. Now, it is time to pass on the bread of abundance to the next chosen one.”

Elara turned, her eyes searching the horizon, but there was no one there. She knew what she had to do. She gathered her family, her neighbors, and the seed of the golden wheat, and she set out on a journey to spread the bread of abundance to other lands, to other kingdoms, to all who needed it.

And so, the myth of the Last Breadwinner was born, not just as a story, but as a reality—a reality that would change the fate of Vastwood and the world beyond. Elara, the commoner, had found her destiny, and she had changed the kingdom forever.