Farmer or Cultivator? Why not both?-Chapter 32: Sour Welcome
The travel had gone seamless enough. For a journey that slow and long, Ren had feared that they would be ambushed, there were no imposing guards and they definitely did not seem like an intimidating bunch, except for maybe the scarred rider man. To Ren’s surprise, the most exciting thing that happened was greeting other travellers heading to the holy city, and a checkpoint. Despite the multitudes of trees by the paths, none seemed to be housing bandits that could crawl out at any moment.
The grigons were impressive carriers, the two walked and pulled the cart with the four without stopping or showing hints of exhaustion, it was always the rider man who stopped when Erigald proposed they rest a little or they stop at night to sleep. Those things were incredibly efficient, and strong. With them on the lead, they got home in the afternoon, the third day after starting the trip.
A couple of children ran back upon spotting the cart approach, Ren’s heart jumped at the thought of the kids thinking they were terrible people who had come to do harm, but he soon realized that that wasn’t the case as adults and children all came from their homes, and corners to gather at the entrance to the village. There was a sense of relief amongst them when they saw their chief and the others, their eyes seemed a little red and swollen from all the tears they had shed for the dead, a tradition called the village’s mourn. The villagers gathered as family to mourn the dead as if they were all relatives of those who died, a tradition that went as far as almost a millennium ago, an act which fostered unity among the people.
’I did not get to know about the men that were killed, but they were brave men, and brave men deserved to be avenged. I will find you someday Alana.’
The villagers swiftly came to their chief’s aide, coming to the cart to help him come off it. Some children went off to Ren, hugging his legs in excitement.
He chuckled mildly, "Thank you, I needed that."
’Where’s she?’ Ren thought, turning his head about, hoping to spot Tuarine. He found her by her dad, dressed in black leather shorts, and a brown shirt of tunic. Ren squinted his eyes at her, his eyebrows up in surprise. She was impeccable in appearance, it was almost like she never got hit or struck. Her face then met Ren’s, and she nodded to him, he nodded back, that was all the communication needed between them.
’She is like an immovable wall.’
Though the children were glad that Ren was around, the adults —those who understood better of the village’s situation simply ignored him, but it was expected. Many of them do not have their husbands anymore, and where he, a stranger survived, their loved ones died.
The big man Jonan was nowhere to be seen, he was not amongst the crowd. It was a miracle that he had even survived.
’I should see him, but first, my children.’
He hastened uphill, climbing up the path to his ostentatious house. It had been over a week since he was around and he had never been away that long, not without placing a person who would cater for them. Ren knew the cows would be fine, they did not eat as much, and they had enough hay in their pen to feed them for a couple of days. Ren was only worried about the pigs, especially the piglets in their midst; those animals could be unkind even to their kind.
He got there however and everywhere was as serene as he had left it. He froze momentarily, carefully inspecting the place. He caught Molly’s eyes, and the clumsy cow mooed. The pigs were in their pen, the piglets tailing their mother, no dead bodies this time. He turned to the opposite side of his pens to his fields.
"What in the name of..." He moved almost out of reflex at the sight of his crops. His grape bushes, watermelons, apples, and carrots had fruits larger than and brighter than fruits than had ever been conceived. His jaw fell, the melons were about three times larger than they were the last time he sold them, same as the grapes, carrots and apple. He crossed over the short wall barricading the plants, and went up close, eventually plucking out a grape. Ren placed it inside of his mouth, and oh the taste that washed over his tongue. It was like he would levitate.
"Oh, by the gods and goddesses." He turned to the fountain of elaxis—the instrument responsible for the miracle. Like that was all the cue needed, the messenger arrived.
"Happy Daysdawn! Enoa at the service of the gods of the realm. Have you been a good boy while I was gone?" The fluffy creature sat on Ren’s head turning its head downwards to meet Ren’s eyes.
Ren still hadn’t gotten used to the creature’s high-pitched voice. Its red eyes looked like a door to the underworld, but of course, he could not voice his distaste at the messenger, he was but a mere pawn, something existing as a means of entertainment, nothing more, no grandiose purpose, no prophetic fate.
"Things have taken a boring shift since your slumber, although the gods enjoyed what came before, Alana as usual was very entertaining. I sometimes wish I was the messenger to her, but the commands of the gods are resolute. Now, how do you hope to keep things interesting?"
"I wish, simply give me time. I just got up from days of slumber, I am lucky to even be alive."
The creature grimaced, a terrible frown on its face, and its bright red eyes reddened even further, becoming blood red. Ren had never seen such a reaction from the creature, and he was wary, backstepping in fear.
"Do not dare be complacent, your very existence, the fabric of your soul exists to entertain the gods, do you understand that?! You do not seem to understand your position. This world..." Enoa had been screaming at the top of its lungs, but suddenly, it choked on its words, gagging terribly.
[The god of fairness and justice disapproves of Enoa’s meddling.]
[The goddess of compassion disapproves of Enoa’s meddling.]
These messages came upon Ren’s information tab. It seemed like the little dude was in real trouble. It stretched out its right arm to Ren, as if seeking for help. Ren was frozen, his face recoiled in fear.
The fluffy messenger suddenly blew up into a cloud of dust, the sudden occurrence startling Ren and causing him to fall, and crawl backwards in fear.
"Master Ren." In his state of panic, a voice reached out to him, one that he hadn’t heard. He thought he was hearing things until he turned to his right to see a child in an old brown oversized shirt.
"Master Ren." The child called again.
