The elders had always told us not to venture beyond the woods. We were a superstitious bunch; our village was our corner of the world. No one really knew what lay beyond the woods. Some say that there is an endless ocean that would drown all who enter. Others say it is a chasm leading to the center of the Earth. Either way, every time that someone would venture beyond the woods, they would disappear, only to have their mangled remains wash up on the river border a few days later. The elders interpreted this as the universe's way of warning those who strayed from our "peaceful" ways of the village, dooming them to an unknown, but very likely painful death.

For a while, everyone believed it,  but not Astrid.

She was the black sheep of our superstitious bunch, you see. She was never satisfied with anything anyone told her. Life was too short for people telling you what to do, she would always say. Defying the elders, she always wore a stone pendant, a symbol of decadence and opulence that was frowned upon in the village.

I remember that it was the Day of Harvest, nearly sundown. We all had our duties for that day, whether it was to gather crops or firewood, everyone in the village had to take part. That is, except for the elders. Ordinarily, Astrid could not be bothered with doing anything the elders told her. But for the Day of Harvest, it was different. She took everything to heart, cultivating for the village meant the world to her.

Our crops were planted at the edge of our village, just by the river.  Astrid was gathering the last of the mulberries before turning to head back to the village. As if on cue, one of the village elders, Bartholomew,  incidentally stepped in her path, knocking over her basket.

I waited for an apology from either of them, but nothing happened. Their gazes remained fixed on each other before Bartholomew snapped. 

"Foolish woman! What do you think you are doing?"

"I'm doing my work, Bartholomew," Astrid replied curtly. "Get out of my way."

He did not budge and he was clearly not amused. "Have some respect for the elders, woman." he croaked, "Your troublemaking ways will get you nowhere."

Astrid paused for a brief moment, furrowing her eyebrows like she was deep in thought.

"Or what? You'll shame me in front of the whole village with the other elders?"

Bartholomew did not get a chance to answer. Astrid, almost without hesitation, struck him on the head with the empty basket, sending the old man tumbling backward. 

She glanced at me and smiled before looking over to the wood. 

As if reading my thoughts, she ran into the woods, not looking back even once.

I wanted to shout out that it was not worth it, that she would be doomed if she ever ran away from the safety of our village. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Before long, Astrid had completely disappeared into the wood.

"You there!"

I turned around. "Yes, sir?"

Bartholomew, while dazed, slowly stood up, rubbing his temple where Astrid had struck him. "Come over here and clean this mess."  

Knowing better than to object, I made my way to Bartholomew and picked up the mulberries that Astrid had left behind.

For days, I waited by the river just waiting for Astrid's body to come up, but it never did. Even Bartholomew seemed surprised, though he scowled when he saw me kneeling by the riverbank.

"Don't think too much about it, child," he growled. "She's as good as dead." 

He trudged away, leaving me to gather my thoughts. 

I returned my gaze to the river and took a deep breath, "I don't think that's true." 

She's out there somewhere, I know it. If there was only some way she could show me that she was alive. 

As I stood up,  something glinted in my eye from the sunset shining into the river. No, it can't be.

I reached my hand into the river. Sure enough, it was Astrid's stone pendant. Instinctively, I held on to it, keeping my memories of Astrid wherever I went. 

A year passed, and life in the village took a turn for the worse. There was never enough rain and the summers were frigidly cold. Before long, the river receded, with barely enough water to keep the village alive. 

During times of strife, we would normally pray to the gods and ask for forgiveness. As luck would have it, Bartholomew was now Chief Elder, blaming the village's woes on anything he could think of: our people becoming lazy... the wrath of the gods...anything to deflect blame.

As the village crowded around the Grand Pavilion for the Day of Harvest, panic ensued that we would not have enough food to survive the winter.

Bartholomew stood on the dais, hoping his presence would be enough to keep order.

"This is all your doing!" one of them shouted. "You drove Astrid away and now we are all paying the price!"

Bartholomew clearly did not share the same sentiment. He lifted his chin, much like a parent would when scolding their child, and turned his back against the crowd at the sound of Astrid's name.

It was more than the crowd could take and their patience soon wore thin. They stormed the Pavilion, dragging Bartholomew by his heels and pulling him from the dais. It was no longer about food, the village was out for blood.

I had to get out of here. Before my mind could register what might happen next, I ran off, unable to face the horrors of what may happen next. Racing to the river, I prayed that the gods would forgive everything our village had done to offend them. I just kept running, and before long, the village disappeared along the horizon.

Pain engulfed my insides, slowly rippling from my heart to the rest of my body. I fell to the ground, my fingers gripping the soil as I struggled to breathe. As my vision blurred and slowly shrank into a pinhole, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the stone pendant. For the very first time, I did not pray to the gods, nor for the well-being of the elders. 

"Hello, sister. Welcome to your first Day of Harvest." A voice whispered in my ear.

My eyes shot open. 

There she was. She was beautiful. The Day of Harvest has truly begun.