In a picturesque cottage nestled amidst rolling hills and meadows, young Hagai reveled in her own world of fantasy. Life, to her, was a tapestry of dreams. The cottage stood as a sanctuary, a cocoon of peace far removed from the harsh realities of the world. With her father as her only companion, Hagai's existence was a gentle dance of innocence and dreams.
Hagai's father, a stoic farmer with weathered hands and a hardened heart, was a stark contrast to his imaginative daughter. His love was a distant memory, and his kindness had long been eclipsed by the weight of life's burdens. To him, Hagai was merely an extra set of hands for farm labor, a tool to be utilized in the relentless struggle for survival. In the afternoons, Hagai would return from school, her heart brimming with stories of magical kingdoms and mythical creatures.
But her father's stern gaze and rigid demands stifled her youthful liveliness. He denied her the privilege of attending school, and the dreams she had spun from the threads of her books were left to wither.
However, life had not always been this way for Hagai's father. Once, he was a humble housekeeper in a grand palace, tending to the whims of a princess. This princess, Hagai's mother, had forsaken her royal life for love—a love that transcended kingdoms and societal expectations.
They had fled the palace, leaving behind their titles, privileges, and the comforts of their royal existence. Their love story was one of defiance, a tale of two souls united by a love so profound that it defied the boundaries of class and station. In the small cottage they now called home, their love had blossomed, casting a radiant light over their humble abode.
Months passed like the seasons, and on their first anniversary, Hagai's mother discovered she was pregnant. The joy that surged within their hearts was immeasurable. But, as life often dictates, joy and sorrow are bound together in an eternal dance. The day Hagai's mother went into labor arrived with a sudden, unexpected intensity.
As her father labored in the fields, Hagai's mother endured the distressing pains of childbirth alone. With every ounce of strength she could muster, she crawled toward the door, her cries of pain echoing through the empty cottage. Her husband, returning from the fields, heard her final, heart-wrenching scream as he drew nearer to the cottage.
When he reached her side, it was too late. Hagai's mother had slipped away, leaving behind a newborn baby girl—Hagai herself. The room bore witness to both the end of one life and the beginning of another, marked by blood and tears. Neighbors rushed to the scene, their faces etched with sorrow. They saved Hagai, but her father was forever changed. Grief consumed him like a relentless tempest, tearing at the foundations of his soul. He sought refuge in the bottle, spending endless nights wandering the streets, drowning his sorrows in alcohol.
Hagai's mother had been the love of his life, and he blamed Hagai for her death. In his eyes, she was a painful reminder of what he had lost, and his bitterness toward her grew with each passing day. Hagai, now an orphan, was taken in by a compassionate neighbor, Rua's mother.
Rua, a kind-hearted and handsome boy eight years her senior, became Hagai's confidant and protector. Rua was a striking figure, a vision of rugged yet undeniable handsomeness. His presence alone had the power to draw gazes and capture hearts, and in Hagai's eyes, he was an embodiment of the word "captivating."
His tall stature seemed to effortlessly command attention, with broad shoulders that hinted at both strength and reliability. His sun-kissed skin, bronzed by hours spent laboring under the unforgiving sun, bore the marks of hard work and determination. The lines on his face told stories of both laughter and struggle, adding depth to his rugged charm.
Rua's eyes were perhaps his most alluring feature. They were a rich, deep brown, like warm chocolate, with an intensity that mirrored the passion within him. Those eyes held a kindness and understanding that drew people in, making them feel seen and cherished. They sparkled with genuine warmth that melted away the cares of the world.
His hair, tousled by the wind and the labor of the fields, fell in waves of dark chestnut. It framed his face in a way that seemed both effortless and enchanting, a testament to the natural beauty that radiated from him. His smile, rare but all the more precious for its scarcity, could light up even the darkest of days.
Rua's hands, calloused and strong from years of labor, told their own story of hard work and dedication. Yet, when he touched Hagai, those same hands could be gentle and tender, a testament to the depth of his affection. His voice was a soothing melody, a warm baritone that wrapped around her like a comforting embrace. It carried a hint of huskiness, a reminder of the countless hours spent working the fields and the evenings spent sharing stories by the fire. When he spoke, his words were filled with wisdom and kindness, leaving a lasting impression on those who had the privilege of hearing them.
To Hagai, Rua was not just a handsome young man; he was her protector, her confidant, and the embodiment of everything she had ever dreamed of. He was the light that had guided her through the darkest of times, a beacon of hope in a world that had often been filled with despair. His presence in her life was a testament to the power of love to heal even the deepest of wounds, and she cherished every moment they spent together. She couldn't help but develop a deep crush on him as they shared their daily struggles and joys.
The bond between them grew stronger with each passing day, offering a glimmer of hope in the otherwise bleak landscape of Hagai's life. As the years passed, her father's descent into alcoholism continued unabated. He would disappear for weeks at a time, leaving Hagai to fend for herself. She learned to be fiercely independent, working the fields alone under the relentless sun. Her bond with Rua grew stronger, blossoming into a love that transcended the bounds of friendship.
One fateful evening, while toiling in the rice fields, Hagai's world unraveled once again. A battalion of soldiers, dressed in ominous black attire, descended upon her, their presence casting a shadow over the golden fields. Their faces were stern, their orders clear.
With ruthless efficiency, they seized Hagai, her cries for help lost in the vastness of the countryside. Her world, a fragile cocoon of dreams and escape, shattered in an instant. The soldiers, their faces masks of indifference, showed no mercy as they dragged her away from the only life she had ever known.
