The Tale of the Kindly Crone

Previously

…The villagers, who had gathered at the edge of the fields, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and resignation, now stood in stunned silence. Their eyes, which had been downcast and weary, were now wide with disbelief. A murmur began to ripple through the crowd, growing in volume until it became a chorus of gasps and exclamations. Old Man Hemlock, his face usually a roadmap of worry, stumbled forward, his gnarled hands outstretched. "By the stars," he croaked, his voice thick with emotion. "It… it can't be." A young woman, her face pale and drawn, pointed a trembling finger towards the fields. "Look! The wheat! It's… it's growing!"