Choice of Roots - Stardew Valley Fanfiction

Chapter 3 - Rotten Egg

The days started to blur together as I started to find myself becoming more comfortable with my surroundings. Spring carried itself well, and grew me a plentiful bound of cauliflower and parsnips before the middle of the season was ought to arise. I can't deny that the work was still tough, even after the days went by. It was going to take more than just a season or two to really get used to the sometimes dirty, grueling, and intimidating lifestyle I had set out to live.

Whenever there was a rainy day (which in spring, there were many), you could count on my wandering into town to find something to do. In the past week, I had gone about meeting a wise fisherman named Willy. At first, he had appeared to be a fellow of few words, but the second you got him going about the art of fishing he didn't want to stop! Whenever I saw him, especially as he was about to go out on another fishing expedition, a shaggy brown hat adorned his head of umber hair, complementing his captain-like beard quite nicely. The older man had taught me a bit about fishing in the few conversations we had had so far, and was even nice enough to give me my own fishing rod.

But enough about all of that—the more interesting events of the spring were about to befall me on the day of the Egg Festival. The day started out sunny, which I immediately noticed when I first walked outside in a thick turtleneck (trust me, I changed out of that real quick). The sun's rays were a far different feeling than the atmosphere of fog and condensation in the air, and in turn gave me a cheery feeling. There was a moment, before I left my cabin to go out to the day's event, where I considered wearing sunscreen since the star was so bright. Ah, who cares, I had foolishly thought. It's spring, not summer. Besides, it's cloudy! And when was the last time you got a sun burn anyway? You'll be fine.

With that last thought slipping away, I briskly walked the path that led into town. Wearing a short-sleeved yellow and violet checkered flannel, pearl tank-top, and ripped jean shorts, I appeared to be all set for the sunny and hot weather. To even get in the spirit of the festival, I plucked a yellow lily from its resting place and tucked it into the middle of my hair bun. Now you really look like you're a farmer, I reflected in an almost jeering manner, causing me to smirk.

The forestry around me, as I'm sure you are able to guess, looked exactly like spring. The grass that would cover the forests and fields around the town was a fresh, leafy green just as the budding trees appeared to be. Evergreens would stand tall, towering, and thick above your head—occasionally dropping a pine cone every time the wind howled through the air. The sky's dreary grey on some days would fade into a delightful sea-green aura, which was reflected in the ocean's current. Then as the sun would dim into the horizon at sunset, bursts of sherbet and vibrant violets would decorate the sky instead. Spring in Stardew Valley was a beautiful sight—one that I would catch myself dazing off into if I let myself.

The day of the Egg Festival started out in a similar manner, with a light breeze in the air, greenery all about us, and as I mentioned the sun's rays kissing our skin. What I was most eager about, as I made my way from the rugged path to the cobbled square, was the display of food. Covering almost every inch of the beginning area were chocolate muffins, pancakes, waffles, toasts, mushrooms, and especially eggs (both the scrambled, and hard-boiled kind). Seeing as I had skipped breakfast, my stomach was already starting to rumble and become far too eager to start gorging itself. Instead, I forced myself to look away and try to hide how hungry I was—I didn't want to be rude.

I must have been standing towards the entrance for way longer than deemed normal, as it didn't take long for someone to want to come over and make small talk with me. This time, it was a girl by the name of Abigail. We had met in the weeks prior, and talked from time to time about our interests among other things. I found that she had a keen interest for the paranormal, and complained to me once or twice about her mom scolding her about hanging out in the graveyard. Abigail's hair had been dyed a vibrant amethyst (which, no surprise, was also something her mother disliked), which matched her ultramarine eyes harmoniously. At first, she didn't really strike me as the type of person who would sneak out after dark and traverse the creepy parts of the town, but you can't go stereotyping people. She was actually very kind, and during our conversations I found that I related to her a little bit—although I'm not exactly sure why.