In the morning, Brand was woken up by the singing of the so called sparrows. He didn't know what those birds were; he had simply heard the talkative Glenn talking about how annoying those birds were yesterday.
Brand found them pleasant, though; they didn't sound awful and chirped harmoniously.
The rest of the group was also busy doing something; Glenn and Rah were checking the cart for any issues and making sure the horses were okay.
Syrash had stayed awake the whole night; oddly enough, was it because he found the place too dangerous to sleep unguarded or something else?
Glenn had mentioned something about "Essence Hypersensitivity" or something along those lines; apparently the dark-skinned mage was an especially rare kind of mage that could detect small fluctuations in the magic essence present in the air.
There must have been something wrong with the place they had slept at then, for Syrash to be unable to sleep the whole night.
He greeted the two before breakfast was prepared, and Syrash finally woke up. He didn't look too insomniated, just a little more agitated than usual upon seeing Brand.
After breakfast, they loaded up on the cart and began their journey to the little fishing village not too far away; they were expected to reach the village in a little less than five or six hours.
"Those roads you see there, and that empty sign over there," Rah pointed to a poorly built road branching away from the one they were travelling on. "During nights, The Raksha place fake writings there to confuse travelers."
He continued, "Those writings are spells that affect the minds of travellers, usually making them take the wrong turn or walk straight into an obvious trap."
Brand found it nearly impossible to think that something as simple as letters written over wood could cause one to lose their rationality, but he would have thought creating fire out of nothing was impossible were it not for Syrash's demonstration yesterday.
"That is why a group of travelers must always have a Blessed of Serenity, someone able to detect changes made to their minds." Rah finished his explanation.
A Blessed of Serenity was said to have a calmer, rational mind, but Glenn was loudmouthed and spoke too much; Brand wondered if the man was doing it on purpose to create a false image of himself.
"Is that what makes them dangerous?" He asked with curiosity. Rah shook his head. "I've only heard rumors past that, such as them glorifying their victims by wearing their cocks in a rope tied around their necks." The redhead couldn't help but laugh loudly.
"That's disgusting!" He felt perturbed.
"That's what makes them dangerous, kid; you don't want them anywhere near you." Glenn blurted in.
They laughed for a moment before chatting about something else. The sun had reached noon before the log wall of the village came into view.
It was fairly smaller than what Brand had imagined, with barely around twenty or twenty-five houses. A large clear pond was near the village; a stream from the pond passed through the center of the village and through the other side.
Children ran around with sticks in their hands; some carried them like wands, while some carried them like swords. Brand felt a certain sense of nostalgia even though he had no memories of his childhood.
"I have some business with the alchemist here." Syrash had said not long ago before leaving to find said alchemist. Rah was off to who knows where, perhaps in the local tavern or wherever they made mead in the small village.
Glenn was still near the cart. He approached the blonde and asked, "Are you not going anywhere?" The man shook his head. "Precious stuff here; wouldn't want to get theft on."
It was just a few heavy stacks anyways; who would steal them in broad daylight?
"I'm off to find something to do." He told the man before leaving towards the village's center, where there were a few merchant shops and people socializing.
He noted that there was a small shop that sold woolen coats and cloaks near the stables; he could buy clothes after obtaining the money.
"Are you a traveler? Welcome to our little village." An older man greeted him; Brand nodded at him with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Mister. I'm looking for some errands anyone might need help with."
"I'm very thankful there are youngins like you nowadays." He sighed and sat on a nearby bench. "Errands huh… My son runs the farm to the north; there's been some trouble with Syals there."
"Syals?" He repeated after the man. Who clicked his tongue and said, "Ah, you're not from here, of course."
He thought for a moment, "Foxes, they're called in the south, cheeky bastards."
"My son's still quite afraid of them. Should have taught him earlier… well, no point crying over spilt milk." The old man shook his head from side to side, disappointment lingering in his voice. "Help him out, will you? He will even reward you handsomely."
"Alright, I will help him out." He told the old man, who seemed happy. "His name is Rufus, tall and broad-shouldered; tell him that I sent you to assist him."
"I will." He started walking towards the direction of the farm; he stopped himself. He asked the man another question, "Is there an oracle in the village?"
"There is one." He clicked his tongue, seemingly out of annoyance. "That young lass… she's quite new and doesn't get many visitors. She lives in a hut on the top of that hill over there." He pointed to a small hill in the distance.
Due to the nature of their work, which was religious and sacred, the oracles needed to stay in calm, serene places. Most of the time, it was in a place separate from society, such as atop a hill like the one in the fishing village.
"I'll see you then. Thank you." Brand told the man before heading towards the farm.