I wrote this today, took it about ten minutes, just playing around with various details for a fictional setting. Apparently, farms in this world harvest some sort of magic energy...stuff from groves of thin metal trees and rely on a metaphysical ocean to make the lights grow so they can be harvested for uses in something or rather.
Oh, and they ride a fantasy variation of a Triceratops. I did like how this turned out, thinking I want to expound upon this setting.
“They look promising,” Darak said, pointing the scanner at the strange, floating spheres of light hovering above the metallic-looking pencil-thin tree. “Sixty-seven percent Ithael - that’s solid.” His father paused, coughing into a handkerchief.
“They’ll fetch a good price at the market,” he agreed. “I daresay we need it. Let’s check the next bunch, shall we?”
“Are you sure?” Darak asked. “You don’t look so good-”
“It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.” He flicked the reins, with a grunt the Shieldface started to move, slowly turning away from the cluster of lights and onto the next part of the farm. Darak hesitated a moment and then flicked the reins for his own Shieldface and followed him down the neat stone path. More of the same - strange metallic tree-like structures with hovering spheres of light over them, some brighter, some dimmer than others - all spread over rocky hills long since shorn of any actual vegetation.
They walked for a distance before stopping at another tree. His father coughed again. His face was red and he looked tired.
“Forty-seven percent,” Darak read.
“Lower than last year,” his father said. “Very well. I don’t think we’ll get much more growth this year - I was checking the current projections before I left. The Aeurian currents have already started to shift.”
“That’s pretty early,” Darak said. “That’s going to sting.”
