May I not shrink from my purpose.

Five pears. Seven apples. Six oranges. Irene counts the fruits on the counter, making sure nothing is amiss. Business is good today and and there’s an influx of people at the market. Her family’s fruit stall in particular, had sold out almost their entire stall, minus a couple fruits. Nothing could be done about those ones for they’re rotten, discoloured, or disfigured.

“Irene! Pass me two apples and three oranges,” says her father.

She hands them over to him. Five pears, five apples, and three oranges left. Her father turns towards her after dealing with the customer. His face is somber, the complete opposite of what's expected. They have made more than enough coin to last them for three days, yet nothing could raise his spirits. Irene is aware of the exact reason though. It has been looming over their family for a month and all they could do is count.

“Let’s close the stall early today. These leftover fruits won’t be sold anyways,” he says.

“Are you sure? There are still plenty of people walking around,” she replies. He smiles for the first time that day. If anyone asks Marcus Bae what he doesn’t deserve in his life, the answer would always be his eldest daughter. She’s too kind for her own good and constantly puts others above herself. Hard-working and caring to a fault.

“It’s alright. Leave them be and don’t worry about the fruit stall. We can manage from here on out,” he says while tidying up and closing the stall. The father-daughter duo secures everything in place and then count all the earnings of the day.

“Well, with all this extra gold, why don’t we treat ourselves? Keep it a secret from your mother and Yeri?” he asks, eyes twinkling mischievously. She shakes her head in response and starts walking towards their home. A nice long nap seems to be the perfect way to spend the rest of the afternoon.

“Feeling guilty aren’t we? You’re prioritizing us over yourself again. Come on, you're an adult tomorrow!” he spews out. Those words leave a bitter taste in his mouth as soon as they come out. Birthdays are celebrated occasions, full of fun and laughter. But not when you turn eighteen. Gone are the joyous congratulations, replaced by unsettling thoughts. A pair of indifferent guards at your doorstep on the spring equinox. In Irene's case, her birthday coincides with the dreaded date.

“Hm, I guess we can do something. Let’s go to the meadow before heading home,” she suggests. The open, sunny area usually manages to lift her spirits. She sets off, pretending to not have heard her father’s words.

Eden-green grass sways in the breeze, dancing to their own song. The babbling brook chimes in, adding their own tone. They lay down on the ground, eyes closed, listening to the murmuring winds and admiring the unending blue sky. Marcus Bae could not stand it any longer though, he has to interrupt the symphony of sounds. The fact that his daughter is acting so nonchalant is eating away at his heart.

“Are you alright? I know you have a heavy burd–”

“I’m fine, father. I have to be. In a matter of fifteen hours, I’ll unlock my avatar and I will be whisked away to the Black Fields to begin training,” she interrupts. Reality washes over both of them and they sit in silence. A moment passes and he picks at the grass, gathering his thoughts before speaking.

“Irene, I know you will win. As one of the last five left standing in the Arena,” he says, turning his head to face her. In response, she opens her eyes slowly, blinking a few times to clear her sight.

“For you, mother, and Yeri. I’ll win and bring glory to our family. Study with the Shamans and join the upper class. I don’t plan on selling apples and oranges forever,” she says with a lilt in her voice.

“Don’t lie, we both know you would drop everything and come running to the fruit stand within a moment’s notice.”

He pokes her forehead, just like the old times. Before money became a problem and food was nonexistent on the table. As the head of the family, he shouldn’t have to trick his youngest daughter, Yeri, that she had