The last two days of our journey passed uneventfully. We even found ourselves entering the domain a half a day earlier than we had anticipated. The dull greens of the Cariseian continent were washed away entirely, now replaced by super blooms of feragna blossoms and vantergold buds that dotted the rugged hills of the domain.

“I think the locals of Shabriri’s Rest would know more about the tribes. They could probably help us find my parents!” Rin exclaimed as she fumbled with a map of the domain.

“Careful, that map was not cheap. Give it here,” Vayren said, taking the map from her. “And I agree. It’s best if we ask around and gather information before we make any decisions.”

Veronica nodded in agreement. “So Shabriri’s Rest it is.”

We arrived at Shabriri’s rest near midday. The town’s center was hidden at the base of a tall crag that jutted from the ground. As we strode into the town, the locals bustled about, unbothered by our presence.

We made our way to the town’s center, where we spotted a group of people gathered around a large table. They were deep in conversation, but their voices fell silent as we approached. One of them, an older man with a wispy beard, turned to us.

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“Can we help you?” he asked, his voice creaky with age.

“Yes,” Rin said, stepping forward. “We’re looking for information about the tribes that live in this domain. Specifically, we’re trying to find my parents.”

The old man’s face softened. “Ah, I see. I’m afraid I don’t know much about that, but perhaps you should speak to the elder at the temple. She might be able to help you.” The man said pointing to a dilapidated building with worn greens and reds.

We thanked him and made our way to the temple. It was a small building, but it had an air of solemnity about it. We stepped inside, and the smell of incense filled our nostrils. At the back of the temple, sitting in an ornate rocking chair, was a woman who appeared to be in her mid-30s.

The woman seemed lost in thought as she rocked back and forth. Blankly, staring into the far corner of the temple.

“Excuse me, are you the priestess?” I asked.

The woman’s face lit up as she turned to look at me before her smile slowly melted into a somber stare.

“I am,” she said, her voice soft and measured. “What brings you to my temple?”

Rin stepped forward, her voice steady. “We’re looking for information about the tribes that live in this domain. Specifically, we’re trying to find my parents.”

The priestess nodded. “I see. Well, the tribes of this domain are very secretive. They don’t often interact with outsiders, so information is hard to come by. However, I do know of one tribe that might be able to help you.”

“Which tribe?” Rin squeaked her voice cracking under the weight of her anxiety.

“The tribe of the pheasant,” the priestess said, her voice barely above a whisper. “They are a vain bunch. But they are also known for their knowledge of magic. Perhaps they might be able to help you find what you seek.”

“Thank you,” Rin said with a grateful smile. “Do you know where we might be able to find them?”

The priestess stood up, her posture stiff and regal. “Yes, I do. But be warned, the tribe of the pheasant is not known for their hospitality. If you go seeking their help, you must be prepared for whatever they demand in return.”