“Morning Marta!”

“Why, good morning! It has been quite some time since I’ve seen you out of that workshop of yours!”

“Well the soldiers needed new insignias sewn on their coats, and as you know a new unit arrived only a fortnight ago, so I’ll need to finish theirs soon as well.”

“More soldiers? Goodness, you’d think the war was still raging on… though I can’t say my Kylise minds too much. Those handsome officers make for quite a bit of excitement.”

“Well there are the rebellion groups that occasionally crop up ever since Caltania joined Birming… Oh! I’ve heard we are finally getting our very own monk! He is supposed to arrive today!”

“A monk? Finally! Perhaps a man of the gods will be able to guide the old local riff raff to behave more civilized.”

While the two older women had stopped along the cobbled main street of Oxby to visit with each other, the rest of the street continued bustling. There were squeaks of wooden cart wheels, layers of voices of people talking, and the heels women wore that clattered against the stones; all of the sounds brewed together and heralded the thriving life of town

Amongst the busy stream that flowed, was a lone driver in a long, inconspicuous gray traveling cloak. His green eyes surveyed his surroundings dejectedly, his speckled pony slowly pulled him and his small cart through the throng.

Taking a calming breath, his grip around the reigns tightened as he proceeded farther down the road, until at long last, he came across a stately two-story brick building with white shutters, and a bright red door.

Two guards were posted outside the door, and they straightened when the driver pulled his vehicle to a stop in front of them.

“Hello there, I am-”

“You can go to one of the local stores for directions, traveler.” The guard on the left had called out without moving an inch.

“That would be helpful if I were looking for directions, but I am here because I am to meet with Burgomaster George Hinterland?”

The guards turned to stare at the visitor, peering skeptically at his tattered robe and small rickety cart.

With a sigh, the driver set the reins down, and stepped onto the street before the two guards who unconsciously stiffened before him for a reason they didn’t understand…

“My name is Brother Lou. I’m the new monk who is to start leading the masses here in Oxby.”

The guards relaxed.

“Ah! Pardon us, Brother! We’ve had a lot of locals and travelers as of late assuming they could drop in any time to speak with our Burgomaster,” the guard on the right explained with a smile.

Lou bowed his head and waited.

Then waited some more until he raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to get him, or do I go in myself?”

“Right!” The guard on the right with his bright blue eyes and long sideburns snapped to attention as he turned and opened the door for the monk. “Go on in, Brother Lou. Mr. Hinterland should be in his office. It’s the first door on the right on the second floor!”

Lou looked behind him at his pony and cart, then back to the guard. “Will you watch him for me then?”

The guard blinked in surprise, but didn’t have a chance to respond again before the monk disappeared into the building.

Once the door had closed, the two guards turned to each other.

“He looks only a few years older than me! I expected someone older to be our monk, you know?” the one began. “Shaved top of his head, big ol’ gut…”

“Well, perhaps they wanted someone who could be closer to the soldiers. Someone to relate to them more? Most of the population here are younger military families.”

“Could be… Hey, Jeff?” the guard on the left with wavy dirty blond hair and heavy lidded brown eyes, asked.

“Yeah, Paul?”

“Did he… scare you?”

The guard on the right named Jeff paused for a moment, then faced his coworker excitedly.

“You felt that too?! I thought I was just off balance from the ale last night, but there was something in his eyes that made me want to duck and cover!”

“No, no! I had the same reaction… hey. Maybe he is really strict… Maybe he is the type of monk that says drinks and cards are the demons' handiwork,” Paul speculated worriedly.

To find a military man that wasn’t fond of drink or dice was akin to finding a cow with scales.

“I doubt the Great Temple would do that to us… right?” Jeff began, though he didn’t sound confident.

Paul let out a groan. “Gods, I hope not. Speaking of, You want to go to The Pumpernickel Prince tonight for a few rounds with Benny?”

Jeff perked up for a moment before his shoulders sagged forward. “I shouldn’t. Isla will skin me alive, but send Benny my regards. Real pity that there aren’t more of the old locals like him. He’s a good chap.”

The conversation proceeded to orbit more mundane topics, as the guards half forced their thoughts from the new monk in their midsts; they didn’t want to create worries for themselves. Especially not on such a peaceful sunny spring day as that one.

Though soon he wouldn’t be far from anyone’s minds…

*

Lou sat in the armchair and looked around the room with the beginnings of hope blooming in his chest.

The burgomaster had painted his office red, but had lined each wall with white shelves that were packed to the rafters with books. Books on economics, on the militia, on agriculture… he even had a span of wall spared to hang the portraits of the thirteen gods.

An educated man who knows what he’s doing. If he runs his town efficiently, then I won’t have to worry about messy politics or misbehaving soldiers. The ball of stress that had grown in Lou’s gut since Imbolsic began to loosen, and so he slumped back in his seat while the muscles in his forehead relaxed.

The door to the office opened suddenly, startling Lou back onto his feet as he turned and found himself staring at a man in his mid-forties, who was bald at the top of his head, with short brown and white hair winding partially around his head. He was short, with a round belly that was made even more pronounced by the gold buttons on his vest that were straining amongst puckering ruby satin by his middle.

“Ah! Brother Lou, a good day to you! I trust your travels went smoothly?” George Hinterland bustled into the room, three long rolls of paper stowed under his arm as he turned to the nearest bookshelf by the door and hastily stowed them away.

“The journey was uneventful, thank you.”

“Righ, right. Good. I will be having my secretary, Mr.Piper, show you to the chapel. I’m afraid we don’t have any vacant rooms for you to live near the chapel– we haven’t ever had a monk in this town, and we had to house a great many people in a short amount of time. Should a house or cottage open up that is closer, then we will of course offer it to you first.”

Lou felt his earlier optimism begin to fade. Since becoming a monk he had always lived in an abbey… having a home separate from his chapel was far from ideal.

“Where is it I will be staying?”

George Hinterland partially faced the monk, though his brown eyes avoided the holy man’s as he strode with a small hunch toward his desk. “Well there is an old house outside the town, a nice stroll to and from! Perfect for a stretch of the legs! It’s there by the bridge heading toward the old Caltania kingdom.”

Lou did his best to mask his suspicion. “I see… My abbot told me he passed along my request that there be enough space for a garden, and some pens to keep my own animals…?”

“Yes, yes, of course! You’ll have loads of space to do as you please. I promise on my aunt’s bobbins!”

Lou would’ve bet his pony that George Hinterland didn’t have an aunt.

But… at least it wasn’t the battlefield.

He bowed his head to the burgomaster in thanks.

“Splendid! Mr. Piper should be along any moment now. Would you care for a chocolate cream pastry? The new bakery that opened up two doors down has the most scrumptious delicacies. Go ahead, Brother Lou, give it a try!” George reached into his desk drawer and drew out a slightly battered white paper box that had a pale blue ribbon still stuck on its corner from being hastily untied.

Resisting with all his might the urge to sigh in weariness, the monk tried the confection, and while it was indeed delicious, it wasn’t quite sweet enough to completely get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth.

*

Mr. Piper and Lou trundled down the road side by side on the drivers bench of the monk’s old cart. The assistant looked to be around the monk’s own age, but given his black hair and slanted eyes, was very clearly from the western islands of the old Caltania kingdom.

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“How have you found living in Oxby, Mr. Piper?” Lou asked lightly, his eyes seemingly focused on the crowd of people he was navigating them through.

The assistant cast a small knowing smile toward the monk. “It has been an adjustment, but there are some who make me feel quite welcome.”

Lou nodded along, despite him turning toward the sound of a shop bell dingling, he was carefully plotting his next words.

“The guards out front of the burgomaster’s office mentioned some of the locals were having some trouble as of late.”

“Ah, toward myself, the old locals have been nothing but kind. Before the war, they traded a great deal with Caltania. I’m more familiar to them in my appearance and countenance than many of the Birming residents that have come.”

Lou frowned, but didn’t have a chance to ask another question before Mr.Piper spoke again.

“There is your chapel, Brother Lou.”

The monk turned his head and fought off a wince while pulling his pony to a stop. The polished, pretty building looked nothing like a traditional chapel or church. In fact, were it not for the bell gleaming in the sunlight on the roof, it could’ve passed for any other storefront.

“Would you like to go inside right now?” The assistant asked politely.

“I think I will take a better look after I rest. It has been a long journey, and Mr. Hinterland indicated my lodgings might be a bit of a trek.” Lou fixed his eyes ahead of himself in the hopes that he could ignore the garish chapel.

Mr. Piper said nothing as the monk slapped the reins gently against the pony’s back and set the cart back in motion.

The pair continued on through the town in the quiet, and as they traveled, Lou began to notice that the crowds were thinning, and homes with larger gardens and yards began to appear, until they reached a stone wall that stood two stories high.

Soldiers wearing bright red coats waved to Mr. Piper who nodded in response as they passed.

“The soldiers are generally well-behaved. Most came with their families, so they became rather tight-knit in a short amount of time.”

Lou nodded along. “Do the wives run the shops then?”

“Some do. Most are related in some way to the officers, but more of the distant kind. Anthony Decker’s mother, Marta Decker, runs the seamstress shop. Libby Engles owns the bakery, though her father helps her a great deal– his brother is one of the captains. Jack Macaphrey runs the pub The Pumpernickel Prince… Though most of the locals call it The Pumpernickel or The Nickel for short, he and his wife are newlyweds but are one of the few families that have come with no militia connections. They merely came here to start their lives fresh after getting married.”

“Not as many army wives in the business as I had guessed.”

“Most are at home with their children. Though a good number of the officers' wives are teachers at the schoolhouse. Mrs. Jenkins, Mrs. Bernett, Mrs. Stuart, and Mrs. Oban to name a few.”

Lou said nothing, though began to reconsider asking anymore questions of the assistant.

He had never been good with names, and he had just been heaped a good three too many.

Though he wouldn’t have had the presence of mind to ask anything anyway, for before him lay…

Paradise.

The cart had wound around the town wall and revealed… the mountains bordering the former kingdom Caltania.

Leagues of lush grass spanned before them with wildflowers dotting the graceful slopes of the land. Nestled between himself and the mountains, a thick river gushed that glimmered in the sunlight. It looked clear and refreshing, begging to be drunk or doven into on such a fine warm day.

A breeze swept by, bringing with it a rush of feelings such as freedom and happiness…

“Do you see the bridge there?” Mr. Piper pointed down the winding path towards a stone bridge that crossed the river with three arched legs reaching down to the river.

“Yes,” the monk replied absentmindedly. He was too lost in the sensation of true peace that had settled in his being.

“Look to the left. Do you see the copse of trees?”

Lou turned and noted the pines that fluttered together in the gentle winds just over the next ridge.

“Yes?”

“The lodgings we’ve arranged for you are there. It was the former home of the Mill family, but they left after the war to follow their sons who had all moved south.”

Lou fell silent, his brow resting heavily over his eyes as he steered his pony off the road that had turned from cobblestones to dirt.

“How long has it been since the family left?”

Mr. Piper shifted in his seat as he turned his head away from the mountains; a sure sign of evasion.

“About… four months.”

Lou felt an itch burn in his belly.

“I see… is the chimney ready at least? Is there a bed?”

Mr. Piper cleared his throat, his brown angled eyes intent on the grassy slope that was rising to meet them.

“Of course we saw the hearths prepared and a bed, pots, pans… Even some candles!”

Lou stared flatly into the assistant’s profile. “You do know that I am a man that speaks on behalf of and to the gods, yes?”

Mr. Piper looked to the sky with a grimace.

“Alright, all I just said was true, but… the home is rather large and quite empty. We tried to move one of the families in town into it in your stead, but they all refused.”

Lou let out a long loud breath. His patience was reaching its limits. First he wasn’t able to live in his place of worship, then the horrible chapel, and now he was essentially being sent to dwell in a run down shack that probably was infested with rodents.

He felt anger aching in his throat. He wanted to let loose a tirade. To find some release and justice in unleashing his wrath-

No! No, no, no. I cannot let my powers given by Reckish consume me. I cannot lose myself and all that I am simply because of a slight oversight of the gods!

The monk closed his eyes, gnashed his teeth together twice, then forced calmness back into his body as they continued on.

He decided it was safest not to attempt to speak to the assistant again.

Upon reaching the first treeline, the path began to wrap around the trees and then slope downward under the cool shadows. The pines gently rustled above them, making Lou feel an odd flutter of excitement begin to rise from the pit of his stomach; his agitation dimmed a little.

He observed three petaled white flowers flooding the hillside all the way down to…

A large two story home. It had a circular window at its top, with a rounded peak over it. A large stone chimney was built along the wall closest to the path leading away from it. Stones made up its base, and white rough walls made up the rest. Down another span of declining ground, a dirt led to the babbling river that provided a soothing background noise at all times.

It was both humble, yet spacious. It looked cozy and inviting without all the pomp and garishness as the rest of the town of Oxby despite its windows sitting dark and perhaps a little dusty.

“Most of the townspeople prefer to be close to one another and near the excitement, and the original residents have their farms that have been passed down for generations, leaving this stead here by itself,” the assistant explained nervously as the monk’s stricken expression didn’t indicate whether or not he was horribly offended.

Lou gaped in the quiet for several moments. A bird began to trill harmoniously with the rhythm of the river below.

“It’s… It’s…” the monk cleared his throat. “I’ll make do. Thank you, Mr. Piper.”

The assistant let out an audible sigh of relief.

“I’ll help you unpack your cart, Brother Lou!”

As Mr. Piper leapt down from the drivers bench and busied himself, a slow triumphant smile grew on the monk’s face.

Let’s see you try and make me a warmonger in the most peaceful place on the earth now, Reckish! I bet even a demon couldn’t rampage in a place as tranquil as this.

Feeling as though he were on top of the world, Lou stepped down from the cart and began unhitching his pony to allow the animal make his way back up to the grassy field to feed himself. The monk did so while humming a cheeky tune, but unfortunately, his bright spirit and burgeoning confidence in his fate was not destined to last long.

As in the heavens above, the god Reckish celebrated his chosen human for an entirely different reason…