The Portal: Life with the Vampire and Werewolf Queens
Chapter 6: Toil in the Fields and Life's Lessons
As the first light of dawn broke over a new day, Miya made an early decision to take Jiro, Vespera, and Lyra to a vast farmland located several kilometers from their home. The air was fresh, carrying the earthy scent of soil and newly planted crops, while the sun's gentle rays began to shimmer around them, like a beacon of hope awaiting their efforts. Upon arrival, they were warmly welcomed by the farmers, their faces lit with smiles, eager to guide them in their tasks. "You need to help plant rice in the muddy fields," Miya declared with a serious tone, gesturing toward the expansive paddy filled with sticky mud, the rice seedlings ready to be planted, and the tools—sickles and baskets—neatly arranged nearby.
The duo immediately protested, resembling princesses reluctantly forced into action. "What is this? We have to wade through mud? I refuse to do it—you can't make us step in there!" Vespera exclaimed, her face contorted with dismay as she eyed the thick mud like an adversary. "She's right! Why us? It's filthy, and it's so hot! This kind of work isn't suited for us!" Lyra added, crossing her arms and averting her gaze from Miya, her expression radiating fierce defiance. However, they had no choice when Miya warned them, "If you don't finish this, there will be no lunch for you." "Jiro… I don't want to do this," they pleaded, turning to Jiro with imploring eyes, but he merely smiled and shook his head, as if to say there was nothing he could do.
Despite their complaints, they were compelled to comply, and their inexperience quickly became apparent as they began assisting the farmers. The farmers instructed them to wade through the mud and plant the rice seedlings at proper intervals, but the duo struggled to move effectively. Lyra was the first to attempt wading in, but when her foot sank into the sticky mud, she let out a shriek. "Argh! It's so dirty, and it hurts my feet! I can't handle this!" she grumbled, adjusting her pants now weighed down by mud, her face etched with irritation. Vespera, more cautious, tried placing her first seedling, but she toppled it in the wrong direction. Frustrated, she slapped the water, causing mud to splash onto her face. "This mud is so thick! I feel like a pig wallowing in filth!" she cried, wiping her face with her hands, only spreading the mess further.
Jiro swiftly approached to assist, his patience reminiscent of a parent teaching young children. "Let me guide you. Walk slowly, hold the seedlings firmly, and place them in the right spots—patience is key," he said, demonstrating the proper technique by planting a seedling with precision. Lyra tried again, but her foot slipped once more, and she fell into the mud, eliciting laughter from the farmers in the distance. "Jiro, help me! I fell, and I'm a mess now!" she shouted, seeking aid, her clothes now a muddy mask. Vespera, determined yet clumsy, lifted her foot too forcefully from the deep mud, splashing it onto a nearby farmer. "I didn't mean to! Jiro, help me—this is so hard!" she complained, reaching for Jiro's hand, which he offered promptly.
Despite their mistakes—such as Lyra tossing seedlings in the wrong places or Vespera stumbling with every step in the mud—they gradually improved under Jiro's patient guidance, like students learning from an unwavering teacher. Their competitive spirit persisted, akin to a game of pride. "I've planted more rice than you, Lyra! Look at my neat row!" Vespera boasted, pointing to her work with a muddy yet proud grin. "That's not true! I'm faster—and my row is straighter!" Lyra retorted, attempting another plant, only to slip back into the mud, amusing Jiro. After hours of sweat, exhaustion, and laughter over their blunders, they successfully contributed to the planting, the field looking tidier, their hands caked with mud but adorned with smiles of satisfaction.
At midday, the farmers invited them to join their meal beneath a mango tree, where a simple yet delicious spread awaited—steamed rice, fried fish, and fresh tomatoes. As they ate, curiosity sparked, and a flurry of questions spilled from their lips. "How do you manage this life, Kuya? No air conditioning or nice houses!" Lyra asked, her eyes wide with wonder as she observed the farmers. Vespera noticed the farmers laughing and chatting nearby, adding, "And why do you still look happy despite all the hard work?" puzzled by their smiles despite their sweat-drenched state.
A wise old farmer explained with a gentle smile, "Life in the fields isn't easy, but the land provides our food. We find joy because our efforts bear fruit—like this fish and rice we're eating now," he said, showcasing their humble yet loving way of life. Jiro supported this, explaining that happiness isn't measured by wealth but by love and hard work. The duo fell silent, seemingly beginning to grasp the value of rural life, their hands holding plates now tinged with reflection.
After eating, they assisted the elders in repairing the roof of a small hut and the aging fence. Miya tasked them with carrying wood and coconut leaves, but their lack of skill surfaced once more. Lyra struggled to lift a log, and when she tried raising it, she dropped it with a thud, startling herself. "Ouch! It's so heavy! Jiro, help me!" she cried, reaching for Jiro's hand, which he offered immediately. Vespera attempted to fix the fence, but she tore the rope she was using, and a piece of wood fell onto her head. "That hurts! I can't do this!" she complained, rubbing her head where a small bruise formed. "Jiro… do we really have to do this?" they asked with pleading looks, but Jiro smiled and shook his head again.
Exhausted, the duo often sought breaks—Lyra resting under a tree, Vespera hiding behind the hut. Yet Miya's sharp eyes, like a vigilant guard, caught them. "Why aren't you working? Help out, or there'll be no dinner!" she scolded sternly. Shoulders slumped and fatigue evident in their steps, they returned to work. With Jiro's guidance, they learned to repair the roof—Lyra mastered placing leaves neatly, while Vespera learned to tie ropes without breaking them. "It's not hard if we work together," Jiro remarked. After hours of sweat and toil, they completed the task, the hut and fence now sturdier, their hands calloused but bearing smiles of triumph.
That afternoon, Miya instructed them to help cook rice cakes—suman and bibingka—for their dinner. The ingredients were prepared: sticky rice, coconut milk, and banana leaves, and the elders taught them the process. "You need to mix firmly and wrap it carefully in the leaves," an elder instructed, demonstrating the technique. Yet the duo's inexperience showed again. Lyra struggled with mixing, accidentally tearing a banana leaf. "Jiro, help me! I dropped it!" she called, reaching for Jiro's hand, which he aided promptly. Vespera tried pouring coconut milk but spilled it on the floor. "This is so hard! I don't even know if I'm doing it right, Jiro," she grumbled, but learned with his guidance.
After hours of Jiro's assistance—showing them how to wrap suman and arrange bibingka—they finished the treats. The aroma of freshly cooked food lifted their fatigue, and upon tasting it, Lyra delighted in the sweet flavor. "This is delicious! I want more!" she exclaimed with a grin. They shared the rice cakes with the elders, and Miya decided they'd sleep there due to the encroaching dusk.
In the small hut, they enjoyed a modest dinner—fried fish, rice, and fresh vegetables from the field. Unaccustomed to the cramped space and simple fare, Lyra and Vespera hesitated, but Miya made it clear, "Here in the fields, everyone is equal—you have no right to be picky," she said with a firm yet understanding tone. Hours later, the elders prepared their bedding—adjacent mats in a single room, lit only by a kerosene lamp, with no electric fan or gadgets.
Lyra complained about the uncomfortable mats. "It's so hard to sleep here! I prefer my bed at home!" she whined, shaking her head. Jiro explained, "Experiencing this for one night will help you appreciate what we have at Miya's house, like the TV and cozy rooms." He reminded them to be grateful, as they were luckier than the field workers, and that helping earn money was key to staying in a nice home. "We have much to be thankful for," he added.
Curious, the duo wondered if their labor truly earned money. "Is it true we're earning from this? It feels like all we get is hardship!" Vespera asked.
Jiro smiled and reassured them, "Miya provides the money for our food—don't worry about it, especially since you benefit from her big house."
Moments later, Vespera noticed Jiro's mat was distant. "Why are you so far, Jiro?" she asked.
He explained, "It doesn't look right for us to sleep side by side, especially since I'm a man." Unfazed, Lyra and Vespera saw it as normal, given his role as their guardian. "To me, it's fine—you're like family," Lyra said.
They admitted that, despite being a vampire and werewolf, they accepted Jiro as kin and were okay with him joining them.
Jiro disagreed, sensing their innocence. "Even as family, a man and woman shouldn't share a bed," he clarified.
"Is that bad?" they asked.
"Uh, well… it's not normal," he replied.
They laughed, teasing him as if he harbored improper thoughts. "Wait, are you tempted by us?Well, It's natural, especially since I'm so beautiful!" Lyra teased, boasting her regal allure.
Vespera stood and posed, flaunting her fit figure, " im more beautiful with perpect body." turning it into a rivalry. Their bickering escalated until they asked, "Who's prettier and more beautiful between us?"
Jiro tossed a pillow to stop them. Internally, he couldn't deny their beauty tempted him as a man, but he knew Miya was watching.
Struggling to suppress such lusty thoughts, he focused on avoiding trouble.
As he silenced them, they protested while holding a fàn , "How will you fan us if you're far? It's hot and full of mosquitoes—we can't sleep like this!"
Jiro retorted, "Take care of yourselves—I'm not your servant." Ignoring their complaints, he lulled them to sleep. They exhausted, the trio soon dozed off, unbothered by the heat.
The next morning, Jiro awoke with aching arms, shocked to find Lyra and Vespera beside him, resting on his arms, causing numbness. Panicking, he couldn't move them. "Lyra, Vespera, wake up!" he urged, but they remained still, hugging him tighter instead.
He closed his eyes, fighting impure thoughts as he noticed their smooth faces and felt their warmth against him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his heart racing with fear that Miya might catch them in this position and misjudge the situation.
Desperately, he tried waking them, but they didn't stir until the door suddenly opened. Miya greeted casually, "Good morning, Jiro, are you enjoying yourself?" Jiro panicked, his face filled with fear as he stammered, "Miya! I didn't do anything—I just woke up like this!" his voice trembling with concern, eager to dispel any misconceptions.
Contrary to his expectations, Miya wasn't angry; her expression remained calm, as if pondering a deeper truth he hadn't grasped. She approached with gentle yet authoritative steps, sitting at the mat's edge, her gaze fixed on him. "Don't worry, Jiro. You don't need to explain yourself. We trust you and know you'd never harm them," she said, her voice a soothing whisper. "But we must discuss something—not just this moment, but their future."
Miya began explaining in detail, her words like a tale from ancient times. "You know Lyra and Vespera are no ordinary beings. They were once warlords in their world—leaders who ruled through war, brimming with power and ambition. The spell my father cast transformed their forms and natures, but it's not permanent. If it breaks, they'll revert to their former selves, and Earth might witness their past cruelty," she warned, her eyes serious, hinting at an impending threat. "What do you mean?" Jiro asked, stunned.
He froze, his heart pounding as he tried to comprehend Miya's words. "your father told me they were queens of a kingdom, but warlords? To me… they seem like children—naughty, yes, but I can't see them as evil warlord," he said, his voice laced with disbelief, glancing at the two sleeping peacefully. "It's hard for me to believe they were once so ruthless."
"That's because losing their memories brought them back to a childlike state, making them think they're just kids," Miya clarified.
"So, they could really become warlords again?" Jiro asked.
Miya nodded, noting the slim chance of the spell breaking but acknowledging its possibility—triggered by extreme anger or loss of emotional control, which could weaken the spell. "Your role as their guardian isn't just to teach them life here—you must maintain their peace, Jiro. Otherwise, their power could unleash chaos," she said, her hands resting on her chest, emphasizing the weight of his duty.
"But how do I do that? I don't even know how to calm them during arguments, especially when they use their powers!" Jiro replied, recalling the day they burned his house. "And if they revert to warlords, how can I stop them?"
Miya softened her tone, like a mother advising her child. "You don't need to fear, Jiro. Your strength lies in your heart—in your ability to forgive, teach, and love. I believe their experiences, like helping in the fields, are slowly changing their hearts. But be cautious—their past selves are dormant, not gone," she said, her eyes filled with hope yet tinged with caution. Jiro wondered, "If the worst happens, is there a way to prevent harm?"
Miya nodded, hinting at a secret. "If they revert, it won't be good, but heroes watch over them, and my father will find a way to stop the warlords."
Jiro grew fearful, awaiting more. Miya's expression turned grave. "But that doesn't mean you're helpless. Your presence and love as their family could be the key to halting their past selves," she said, her voice brimming with confidence in him.
"Family…" Jiro murmured, grappling with the word. "But what if that's not enough? What if they don't recognize me as family if they become warlords? I might be their first target!" he added.
Miya smiled faintly, easing his doubts. "You're not alone, Jiro. I and the other guardians are here to support you. The greatest battle is within their hearts—you must remain steadfast, be a role model, and show them life's value. If you succeed, not only will they be saved—the whole world will be," she said, her eyes reflecting her faith in him. Jiro paused, his mind swirling. "If this responsibility is so huge, why was I chosen as guardian? Isn't there someone more qualified?" he asked, doubting his abilities. "How do you know I can help them change?"
Miya nodded, revealing a deeper reason. "My father chose you, Jiro, for your heart. He saw your kindness. You don't need to be a soldier or a magical being—your true strength lies in transforming them through goodness," she replied. Jiro waited, his mind filling with renewed faith.
"Thank you, Miya. I'll do everything for them—for us," he said, his voice resolute. "Though I'm scared of what might happen, I'll believe in their change."
Miya smiled, pleased with his resolve. "That's the Jiro we need. Now, let's wake them—we have a long day ahead," she said, beginning to rouse the duo. She slapped them and pulled them from their mats to wake them.
They groaned, "Ouch! It's too early—can't we have ten more minutes?" "Yeah, why are you so strict with us?" Lyra complained. "Stop whining and obey, or no breakfast!" Miya threatened. She ordered them to freshen up for an early departure, leaving Jiro alone in the room, pondering Miya's words.
Struggling to imagine the duo as warlords, he resolved to give them a joyful, normal life they'd cherish over anything else.