flaming locks of auburn hair

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

Truthfully Sam had never worked on a farm in his life (his little noodle arms didn't really call to the hardened labourers of Caido), but he confidently gave Oliver an answer anyway, unaware of any official channels: "I believe if you just approach someone harvesting when they're not too busy and ask for a job, they'll give you one if they have it." He'd never heard of a farmer turning away a helping hand.

"At the moment, I'm working on a collection of various creation myths I've heard for various things around Caido. Like the mountains in Halo, or the Glade here...everyone has their own little story about who made it, why, when.." He smiled, having thoroughly enjoyed the project and the chance to talk to so many of his townspeople. "This is the fifth volume though. I've done a lot more before."

Oliver's question was still very broad and Sam struggled to narrow down the hundreds of stories he'd read over the years to one to share, was silent for a moment as he tried to think, tapping his bearded chin with a finger. "Erm...Well...When I was a child, very young, when my mother still read to me..." That hadn't lasted long and had usually been some kind of ploy to guilt him into something the next day, but that wasn't somethin Oliver needed to know. "...She once read me a story about Ludo playing with some blackbirds..but they were once brightly coloured, until Ludo won the game...then it coloured them black, so they would remember the lesson."

Sam shrugged. "No idea if it's true - after all, a lot of these will be stories made up to entertain people or teach children lessons, then taken down through oral tradition."

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?