Black Clover | The Lost Clover

Chapter 1: Emilia Rowe

┆✦ʚ ☘︎ ɞ✦ ┆・・・・・・・・・・┆✦ʚ ☘︎ ɞ✦ ┆

In the quiet countryside, as the last rays of the setting sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, Emilia stood amidst the rows of ripe pot potatoes.

With a graceful flick of her wrist, she dismissed her magical farming tool, its azure glow fading into the twilight.

"All finished," she murmured, admiring the abundance of filled baskets behind her.

As Emilia began levitating them with her magic, a voice came from behind. "I'm always amazed by you," it said, drawing her attention and prompting her to turn around.

Mr. Potsdam, the farm's owner, stood just behind her, his solid frame bathed in the warm glow of the fading sunlight. He smiled, his eyes filled with admiration. "Only ten years old and already a pro with creation magic. Ever since you started helping at the farm, you've made life so much easier for me and the other farm hands. You work so fast with your magic that we barely have to lift a finger! Honestly, I can't thank you enough."

Emilia's cheeks flushed slightly, her smile large. "Don't mention it. I'm always happy to help wherever needed." 

 "You're the best. Now, go ahead and put those baskets down, and I'll take over. It's getting late, and I'd rather not get an earful from your Ma. You should get going before she has a cow!" Mr. Potsdam chuckled.

"Ah, she's just a worry wart. But alright, if you insist." Emilia replied with a smile, gently maneuvering the baskets to the ground. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Potsdam," she said, waving as she turned to leave.

Descending the dirt road, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the countryside and turning the sky into deep blues and purples. The village streets quieted as tired villagers retreated to their modest homes, seeking respite from the day's laborious toil.

Her steps only halted when a voice reached her from just out of sight.

"Have a good night, Emilia!" Pete, one of the farmhands, greeted her from the doorway of his modest cottage. Beside him, his young son William waved, both covered in the day's muck from the fields. Their smiles were bright yet tinged with the day's fatigue.

"Good night, Emilia." William's voice was timid but filled with a quiet warmth.

Emilia returned their gesture with a gentle smile. "You both have a good night, too. I'll see you tomorrow," she replied, waving back.

"Thanks again for all your help today!" Pete exclaimed.

William's cheeks flushed pink under the moonlight, admiring Emilia's silhouette. Noticing this, Pete couldn't help but tease, "I see my boy here is especially thankful for your help, aren't you, Will?"

William's eyes widened in embarrassed surprise, and he stammered, "D-Dad!!" a protest that only made Pete chuckle more.

He ruffled William's muddy, blonde, shaggy hair before they retreated inside their cottage. William gave Emilia one last shy wave before the door closed behind him.

"Although they're from the higher realms, they're so modest. But it's strange... I didn't recall them using any of their magic while harvesting. I wonder why?" She questioned as she continued toward the center of town.

As Emilia walked, her gaze drifted east. The silhouette of the capital stood against the darkening sky. She paused, her thoughts drifting beyond the confines of her village.