The farm was decently big with large paddy and maize fields; a pen of sheep was kept near the mill, where a tall, broad-shouldered man was hauling sacks inside.
The hunk of a man didn't have any reason to be afraid of foxes, so why was he?
"You must be Rufus, right?" Brand asked the man, who was almost a foot taller than him. The man placed the large sack down and took a deep breath in exhaustion.
"Yes, that would be me." He replied.
"I heard you have a problem with, Say…Sya…" Brand couldn't remember. The taller man seemed to realize this and correct him, "Syals."
"Yes, Syals, your father sent me to assist you; I'm just looking for some coins while passing through." Brand told him, and the man thought for a moment before sighing, "Since it's the old man who sent you, I guess you deserve a shot at this."
"I haven't told anyone, not even my father." He paused, debating whether to continue further. "The Syals are turning into monsters… Some sort of magic spell, perhaps; I'm just a farmer, I don't know much. "
"Is it perhaps because I'm an outsider that you've told me this?" Brand questioned, and the man nodded, "The villagers will question my methods if something like this gets out."
"I certainly cannot solve this as a Blessed of Valor. What are you specialized in?" Rufus asked. The younger man couldn't answer until a moment passed, "I don't know."
"What? You're surely joking." The man chuckled nervously.
"I've lost my memories… I was heading to the local oracle after this, actually." He told the man truthfully. The man simply sighed and mumbled barely enough for the other to hear, "When I'd finally gotten someone to do this…"
"I trust your words. I heard the village oracle is quite a troublesome one, but visit her first, then, and meet me later." Rufus told him before getting back to carrying the sacks inside the mill.
Brand wondered if he should go through with helping the man out, deciding to go through with the decision after meeting the oracle.
He left the farm and started walking through the gravel roads of the village, admiring the lives of the families; they looked happy and content with their lives. The smell of flowers in the nearby garden greeted him.
Not having anything to offer to the oracle, he picked up a small bundle of flowers and looked towards the stairs leading up the small hill, and started his trek.
Within minutes, he reached the top, where the small hut was located. Besides, it was a small temple where some offerings had been placed.
He searched around for a bit before noticing that the Oracle wasn't there. She couldn't go many places from there, so he theorized that she must still be around there somewhere.
"Is she in the hut?" He thought out loud as he approached the small building. Rushed footsteps came from inside, and the door was jolted open by a girl who appeared to be in her late teens.
Her hair was messy, and the white robes she was wearing were dirtied and crinkled; they also didn't seem to be worn properly, almost like a poor imitation of a pure and dignified priestess without either of the traits.
"A person is here." She beamed happily before trying to arrange her messy outfit.
"I am looking for the Oracle here." He said, and the girl seemed confused for a second before realizing that the young man was unaware of her status. "It's me; I'm the Oracle." She replied.
"Sorry, you don't look quite… Holy." With skepticism, he spoke and then extended a hand, which held a bundle of flowers. The girl stepped back, her hands held forward. "I—I am a lady of the cloth; I cannot possibly accept this."
"No, no, I couldn't bring any offerings, and I heard it was a taboo to come empty-handed." He cleared the misunderstanding, and the girl soon calmed down. "It's alright; You can come without offerings, 'the sister' is forgiving."
'The sister' was a friendlier way of referring to the Goddess of Fate, Destinies, and Guidance, who granted the Oracles their divine
"But no one has offered me a bouquet yet, so I don't know how to react to this…" She loudly mumbled to herself before silently taking the bundle of flowers away from his hand.
"What may I be of service for today?" She asked quite casually while smelling the fresh flowers.
Is that why the villagers didn't like the oracle? Because she was unprofessional.
It could also be because she was young; she was no older than Brand himself. Wisdom came from experience, not training.
"I lost my memories and require guidance, sister." He told her. Sighing, he continued, "I don't even remember my true name nor what I'm blessed by. I just woke up a few days ago on a cart heading to Blackstone."
He hoped the girl was mature enough to understand his issue.
The girl listened silently as he spoke. With a perplexed expression, she replied, "Forgetting one's true name is quite impossible… unless either soul, mind, and body have been tampered with."
He nodded in understanding and spoke, "Then who could have done such a thing?" He continued, "And why would they bother doing so?"
"I believe it's a form of punishment for corrupt imperial mages in the Eastern Kingdom, but such criminals are branded with a mark on their forehead, and you're clearly not." She stayed silent for a moment. "First, let me brew you some tea, and then we can discuss your problem."
She went over to the stove, where a few pieces of hot charcoal were burning underneath. She lit a fire using the charcoal's heat and brewed tea in a kettle.
"I believe some mage used a dangerous spell on you, or worse..." She told him as she set the kettle aside after serving him tea. "Major religious factions have started moving; something big is about to happen, and you might have gotten caught."