After the ritual, Merina ran towards Pacificus with an infectious exuberance. She moved swiftly through the snow, her boots sinking into the powder with each step, yet she paid no mind to the cold biting at her cheeks. As she reached him, she flung herself into his arms, her body radiating warmth and excitement.
Pacificus embraced her tightly, a soft smile forming on his lips as he held her close. "How did it go, Rina?" he asked, his voice gentle and full of curiosity.
Merina pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I have a unique skill now," she announced, her voice brimming with pride.
"That's great," Pacificus replied, his grin widening. He could feel the energy of her accomplishment radiating off her in waves.
"And I've also increased the potential of my dexterity and stamina," she added, her enthusiasm undimmed. "Now I can sew more clothes, faster and better."
Her attention then shifted to Torrent, the kirin fawn standing nearby, still nibbling on the grass and acorns provided by the children. "Hello there, Torrent," she cooed, reaching out to pet the fawn with a tender touch.
Torrent, content and well-fed, didn't react much to the greeting. The fawn continued to chew leisurely, his eyes half-closed in a state of serene satisfaction. The children nearby watched with fascination as Merina's hand glided over Torrent's smooth fur, their own excitement bubbling over at the sight of the gentle interaction.
But alas, the couple had to part ways. Pacificus returned to his home, with Torrent hungrily following him, while Merina chose to stay with her family at the orphanage. It was her way of compensating for her extended absence. They agreed to meet again the following morning, but until then, both would be consumed with their own demanding routines.
At home, Pacificus set about his chores with characteristic determination. He began by plowing the snow around his property, each shoveled mound a testament to his strength and diligence. The multiple roofs of his house needed to be cleared of the accumulating snow to prevent any potential damage. Despite the biting cold, he worked steadily, the rhythmic scrape of the shovel against the wooden shingles echoing in the crisp air.
Torrent, meanwhile, busied himself with the assortment of vegetables Pacificus had laid out for him. The kirin fawn munched contentedly, the crunching of the vegetables blending with the distant sound of Pacificus's labor.
Once the snow was cleared, Pacificus moved on to organizing his storage spaces. He had five of them, each packed with tools, supplies, and various pieces of equipment essential for the upkeep of his farm. He meticulously sorted through the items, ensuring everything was in its proper place and easily accessible. The cold air nipped at his fingers, but he paid it no mind, his focus unwavering.
Next, he turned his attention to the maintenance of his tools and equipment. Each item, from the simplest hoe to the more complex mechanisms of his water wheel, received his careful inspection and necessary repairs. The water wheel, in particular, demanded his attention. He checked the wooden planks along the river, which served as pots, and moved them back to storage before the river completely froze over. It was a race against time, but Pacificus's efficiency ensured everything was secured before the ice claimed its grip.
Meanwhile, Merina was equally occupied with her duties at the orphanage. She had her own set of chores and ongoing projects to manage. Her responsibilities extended to her role at the temple, where she attended to the spiritual needs of the community. Additionally, she cared for the children at the orphanage, a task made more demanding by the recent arrival of three new infants—two twins and a baby girl.
With the adult staff reduced due to the men being sent to the frontlines, Merina's workload had increased significantly. She juggled her time between feeding, changing, and comforting the infants, while also overseeing the older children's activities and education. The temple duties added another layer of responsibility, requiring her to balance the sacred with the everyday.
A month had passed, and the once bustling town now seemed eerily quiet, its streets mostly deserted save for women and children. In the early morning light, the town's gate was guarded by children no older than ten. Their fur coats, adjusted to fit them properly, provided warmth, but their armor was another matter entirely. Oversized gambesons and chainmail draped over their small frames, while helmets required constant adjustment to keep their vision clear. The children had even replaced the standard shields with improvised halberds, essentially spears fitted with axe heads, for better maneuverability.
A tall man, clad in a well-made fur jacket, walked these quiet streets. His garments, a testament to skilled craftsmanship, fit him perfectly. His destination was the orphanage, where he could see children in fur jackets busily attending to their chores with remarkable speed and efficiency.
"Mother Rina," one of the children called out, "Big Brother Pacy is already here."
Pacificus made his way to the orphanage, Torrent trotting behind him. The kirin fawn, now the size of a donkey, had undergone quite a transformation. His once scaly hide was now covered in a thick layer of white fur, and his belly had grown noticeably round—he had become quite plump. The children's hands often found their way to Torrent's soft fur, petting him affectionately. The fawn didn't seem to mind; he appeared domesticated and content.
On Pacificus's back was a large bundle containing hard tack, vegetables, potatoes, and other food supplies for the orphanage. Despite the tempting array of food, Torrent didn't nibble on any of it, his belly already full from previous meals. Pacificus even suspected that the fawn might be preparing for hibernation, given his plumpness. He mused that Torrent's scales would likely return in the spring.
The children continued their chores around the orphanage with impressive diligence. They seemed to be in a race against time, their small hands moving swiftly to complete each task. The sight of Pacificus and Torrent brought smiles to their faces, a welcome break in their routine.
As Pacificus approached the entrance, he was greeted by a wave of excitement. The children, despite their busy schedules, made time to greet him and marvel at Torrent's ever-growing size. The fawn's transformation fascinated them, and they eagerly shared their observations and questions with Pacificus. Their eyes sparkled with curiosity and joy, a stark contrast to the somber, quiet streets of the town.
"Oh Pacificus," greeted the old lady as she noticed him approaching. "Come inside, dear. Merina is inside." Her eyes then fell upon the kirin. "You have grown into a big ball of fur, haven't you, Torrent?" Leto petted the fawn's ears. The fawn didn't react much; it wasn't even surprised. In fact, it seemed to be expecting it.
Inside, Merina was seated in front of a large loom, her hands moving with practiced precision. Pacificus entered quietly, not wanting to disturb his lover's intense focus. He found her most beautiful in this state of concentration, knowing that despite her composed exterior, she was at her happiest in these moments.
"Have you made breakfast yet, Mother Leto?" Pacificus asked.
"Dear me, I haven't yet," she replied.
"Let's make breakfast then," he suggested.
"Thank you, young man."
"What should we make?"
"It's cold, young man. We should make them some stew. After that, I'm planning to bake some bread from the flour for lunch."
"Yes, Mother Leto."
The two moved into the kitchen, a cozy space filled with the scents of herbs and dried vegetables hanging from the ceiling. The hearth was already warm, its embers glowing softly. Pacificus rolled up his sleeves and began to gather the ingredients.
First, they selected a variety of root vegetables—potatoes, carrots, and parsnips—laying them out on the counter. Pacificus grabbed a knife and started peeling the vegetables, his movements steady and sure. Leto, meanwhile, fetched a large pot and filled it halfway with water, setting it on the hearth to heat up.
"Do we have any meat?" Pacificus asked.
"We have some smoked ham," Leto replied, retrieving a chunk from the pantry. She sliced it into bite-sized pieces, the savory aroma filling the kitchen.
With the vegetables peeled and chopped, Pacificus added them to the pot, followed by the ham. Leto sprinkled in a generous handful of salt and a dash of pepper, then stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon.
"Let's add some herbs," Leto suggested, handing Pacificus a bunch of thyme and rosemary. He stripped the leaves from the stems and tossed them into the pot, their fragrant oils releasing a comforting scent.
As the stew began to bubble, Leto added a few bay leaves and some chopped garlic for extra flavor. They let the stew simmer, occasionally stirring it to ensure everything cooked evenly. The kitchen gradually filled with the rich, hearty smell of the developing stew.
While the stew simmered, Pacificus and Leto prepared to make bread. Leto measured out flour into a large mixing bowl, adding a pinch of salt and a bit of yeast. Pacificus poured in some warm water, and they took turns kneading the dough until it was smooth and elastic.
"We'll let this rise while the stew cooks," Leto said, covering the bowl with a cloth and placing it near the hearth to keep it warm.
They returned to the stew, adding a splash of wine for depth and a few handfuls of barley to thicken it. Leto tasted the broth, adjusting the seasoning with a bit more salt and pepper.
"Almost ready," she said, smiling.
As they worked, the warmth of the hearth and the delicious smells created a comforting atmosphere. Merina, still focused on her loom, occasionally glanced over with a content smile, knowing breakfast was in good hands.
Finally, the stew was done. Pacificus ladled it into bowls, the rich broth steaming in the cool morning air. Leto placed the bowls on a large tray, and they carried them out to the dining area, where the children eagerly awaited their meal. The aroma of the stew had drawn them in, their eyes wide with anticipation.
"Breakfast is ready," Leto announced.
The children gathered around the table, their faces bright with anticipation as they settled in for breakfast. Merina and the other adults, as was their custom, let the children eat first. Torrent, the kirin, slept contentedly near the fireplace, his soft fur gently rising and falling with each breath.
The children ate quickly, savoring the warm, hearty stew that filled their bowls. Their chatter filled the room, lively and cheerful, a stark contrast to the quiet of the early morning outside. Once they finished eating, they diligently washed their dishes.
Eager to get back to their chores and training, the children dispersed, their energy boundless despite the early hour. Half the town might still be asleep, but not these young ones. The older children, especially, were keen to continue their training, their dedication unwavering even in the cold winter months.
With the children fed and busy with their tasks, it was now the adults' turn to eat. They moved to the table, carrying the infants with them, who also needed feeding. The women balanced their bowls with one hand while cradling the babies with the other, displaying a well-practiced efficiency born of years of nurturing. Occasionally, Pacificus noticed one of the women discreetly breastfeeding an infant.
Many of the adults who helped at the orphanage lived nearby, having chosen to stay close so they could be readily available to support the children and each other. Their shared commitment to the orphanage was evident in every action, from the way they prepared meals to the way they cared for the youngest members of their extended family.
As the adults ate their breakfast, the room filled with the soft murmurs of conversation, the crackling of the fire in the hearth, and the occasional cooing of a baby. The warm, savory stew provided much-needed sustenance.
Pacificus observed the scene in front of him. The routine, though demanding, brought a sense of stability and purpose. He watched as Merina, with her gentle touch and serene smile, fed one of the infants, her eyes reflecting the love and dedication she felt for this place and its people.
After their meal, Merina and Pacificus decided to visit their favorite spot by the river. The river, now frozen solid, reflected the pale winter sky, and the air was crisp and cold. Snow blanketed the land, casting a serene and ethereal glow over the landscape.
They walked hand in hand, their breath visible in the cold air, as they made their way to the riverbank. The silence was punctuated only by the crunch of snow beneath their boots. Upon reaching their spot, they stood together, gazing out over the frozen river, their hands intertwined, finding solace in each other's presence.
"Any news about the men?" Pacificus asked, his voice low and thoughtful.
"No," Merina replied softly. "Not really... the last message we received was about them being involved in a siege. They built a wall around a castle and are planning to starve the defenders out."
"I see... They won't return for months," Pacificus mused, his brow furrowing with concern.
"I'm afraid so," Merina agreed, squeezing his hand gently.
The couple stood quietly for a moment, contemplating the frozen river and the stillness of the landscape. Despite the uncertainty and the distance from the men of the town, they found comfort in each other's presence. For them, the world was reduced to this moment, to the warmth they shared amidst the cold.
"How is the project you were working on?" Pacificus asked, breaking the silence.
Merina snuggled closer to him, her laughter a light and joyful sound. "It's going great. We need more blankets, especially for the infants. It's only been a month into winter, and it's already getting so cold... How about you? What are your plans?"
"I'm focusing on feeding Torrent. I think he should be hibernating, like most beasts though,"
Merina chuckled, "Knowing you, you're probably thinking of going to the Ever Resting Forest to find new crops."
Pacificus raised his hand in a playful gesture of surrender. "You know me too well, Rina."
The tender moment between Merina and Pacificus lingered in the air, a silent exchange of love and understanding that transcended words. Their lips met in a gentle kiss.
After a moment of shared closeness, curiosity sparked in Merina's eyes, a glimmer of intrigue that danced in the depths of her gaze. "How do your rituals work, Pacificus?" she inquired, her voice soft with genuine interest.
"Pardon?" Pacificus responded, his tone reflecting a mix of surprise and readiness to share.
"You were a monk, right?" Merina probed further.
"Yes... I am. I inherited that role from my father and mother,"
"That means you can practice rituals," Merina deduced, her mind already turning to the mysteries that surrounded his spiritual practices.
"I can... but... I haven't performed any rituals yet," Pacificus admitted.
"But you can do it," Merina pressed on.
"Of course,"
"So how does it work?" Merina's curiosity bubbled forth, her desire for knowledge driving her inquiries.
Pacificus chuckled softly, a warm sound that filled the space between them. "All right, my love. We don't actually have temples. The temple of Gaia is simply a huge tree, in which her spirit and the spirit of Thanatos resides... We perform our rituals outside, preferably underneath a tree."
"Outside?" Merina's cheeks flushed with a mix of surprise and intrigue at the thought.
"Of course," Pacificus confirmed, his voice gentle and reassuring.
"D-don't you have to get naked to perform the ritual?" Merina's words tumbled out, her face a rather bright shade of red.
"Huh?... What? Of course not. You just need a cloth with an exposed back for convenience,"
"Oh," Merina relaxed. "Wait, wouldn't you stink because of the miasma and pus that releases from your body?"
Pacificus's expression shifted. "Oh, you will, all right... I still remember that smell... it was... it was so vile. That is why we use incense to somehow remove the smell during the ritual. Though it is more recommended to take a bath after the ritual."
"Your ritual is different from ours. We usually take a bath first before we begin the ritual,"
"I see... Anyway, we simply kneel to the tree. The goddess of life, or at least her image, will show herself to the one being blessed and the monk... As a monk, it is my duty to ensure that the transfer of the blessed one's gifts will be delivered to their body and soul,"
"This process... it seems... the same with ours,"
"Yes... after that, it is pretty much required to take a bath in a nearby river... or any body of water, actually... It is not really part of the ritual... it's just that... the goo and pus that comes out of the blessed body... it stank... the stench... the stench is just vile... and it covers the entire bo-"
"EWW, PACY! Don't remind me of that," Merina interrupted, her playful disgust breaking the seriousness of their conversation.
"As for the symbol of Gaia and Thanatos... It was actually a tree. With green branches on top and roots that look like dead branches on the bottom."
"For our goddess Vesta, its a torch."
"Why a torch though?" Pacificus asks.
"I don't know. Not really. Mother says the Vesta is the everlasting flame. She gives us protection from invaders and she its true. I have seen Vesta's blessings save many of my family." Her eyes widen, her smile became brighter "It was like a fire in your heart that... that suddenly became bigger and brighter... it was... it was an amazing and also frightening experience."
She went closer to Pacificus her head landing on his shoulder. "Pacy... How many children do you want?"
Pacificus suddenly choked and coughed at her question. "C-calm down" he panics. "W-we-we-we-we need to build a house first.
Seeing his reaction Merina simply laughs. Seeing his lover laugh made Pacificus smile, and eventually that smile turned into a laugh as well. The couple laugh as they both cover each other in their warm embrace
In time, spring arrived, breathing new life into the farm. The landscape transformed, with blossoms adorning the trees and the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers. Pacificus and Merina continued their daily routines, their lives intertwined with the rhythms of nature and the ever-growing community around them.
During the seasons of spring, summer, and fall, the children flocked to Pacificus's farm, eager to train and learn. The number of children seemed to increase little by little, each one finding a place in the structured yet nurturing environment Pacificus provided. The farm buzzed with activity as the children engaged in their training sessions, their youthful energy and determination a testament to the impact of Pacificus's guidance.
In time, Artemis and Apollo became the only ones practicing archery, their dedication and skill evident in their precise and powerful shots. The siblings worked tirelessly, their bows an extension of their will as they aimed for perfection. Hyakinthos found a worthy sparring partner in Kaveh, the son of the blacksmith couple. Kaveh, already strong for his age, was allowed to train with Pacificus under his mother's watchful approval. The young blacksmith's son engaged in intense sparring matches with Hyakinthos, each bout a learning experience. Despite being younger and not yet blessed, Kaveh's determination shone through. Though he consistently lost to Hyakinthos, his defeats only fueled his desire to grow stronger. Pacificus observed these matches with a mix of curiosity and pride, noting Kaveh's raw strength and the areas where technique needed refinement. Under Pacificus's supervision, the matches were conducted safely, ensuring that both boys learned and improved from each encounter.
Meanwhile, a young girl named Hecate joined the training sessions. She quickly became close to Rhapso, the two often seen together, sharing in their lessons and chores. Their bond grew strong, providing each other with companionship and support. Demether, too, found a new classmate, further enriching the diverse and dynamic group of children on the farm.
Among the new faces on the farm was Iasion, a quiet and unassuming young man with a peculiar fascination. His love for flowers, particularly the dangerous man-eating variety, set him apart. Iasion's infatuation with these plants bordered on obsession, and he often spent hours studying them, as if hypnotized by their deadly beauty. Despite his silent nature, his presence did not go unnoticed, especially by the adults like Merina, who kept a concerned eye on him. Merina's worry deepened when she learned of Iasion's peculiar fixation. The young man expressed a desire to grow stronger, not for typical reasons of self-improvement or defense, but to get closer to the flowers that captivated him. This revelation only heightened the adults' concern.
Thus, a year had passed.
Information about the whereabouts of the soldiers and men remained scarce, leaving the town shrouded in uncertainty. Children worried for their fathers and brothers. Wives fretted over their husbands and sons. Each day, they prayed fervently to their gods, beseeching their safe return.
Inside the castle keep, a man sat heavily upon his throne. He was corpulent, dressed in luxurious clothing adorned with gold and silver threads, the colors vibrant yet incongruous with his weary demeanor. Scrolls of documents, letters delivered by pigeons, and crystal balls cluttered his surroundings. His eyes, heavy with dark circles, betrayed his sleepless nights. As the son of the town's lord, the burden of leadership fell squarely on his shoulders in his father's absence.
"When will this war end?" he murmured to himself, despair tainting his voice as he read the latest reports from the frontlines. Scholars and advisors surrounded a large map, meticulously placing figures that represented armies, merchants, nobles, and villages.
His gaze fell upon the map, scrutinizing the figures. "An army is missing," he stated to an old man clad in battle-worn armor standing beside him.
"Yes, my Lord," the old man replied. "A significant force is unaccounted for. Do you suspect they might have crossed the mountains?"
The noble closed his eyes, contemplating. "That treacherous bastard wouldn't risk losing his men to the mountains... would he?"
"That remains to be seen, my Lord," the old man responded, his tone somber.
The noble's eyes shifted to the figure representing his town, then to the Ever Resting Forest, and finally to Pacificus's farm. "This town has two guardians from the south," he thought. "The Ever Resting Forest and the monster that resides on the farm. The west is safeguarded by the treacherous mountain range, while the north is defended by my brother's castle."
"If there were to be an attack, I suspect it would come from the east during winter when the Ever Resting River freezes," the old man speculated.
The noble nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Can we withstand a siege?"
The old man hesitated before replying, "With only women and children fighting... I doubt it, my Lord."
"Raise the militia," the noble commanded, resolve hardening his features. "We need every soul to fight for our town's defense."
"Understood," the old man replied, bowing before taking his leave to carry out the orders.
The noble's gaze remained fixed on the map, his thoughts swirling around the vulnerable town and the looming mountains to the west.
Two years had finally passed.
It was spring.
Pacificus was now riding his cart, pulled by the majestic Torrent, who had grown to the size of a horse. Torrent's transformation was striking. Two grand antlers adorned his head, which now bore more resemblance to a wolf than a horse. His scaly hide revealed powerful muscles beneath, and his long, fluffy tail, a stunning blend of white fur and mane, frequently reached into Pacificus's basket, greedily snatching apples and other treats. Torrent's scales shimmered in vibrant shades of green and red, adding to his majestic appearance. His hooves had evolved into claws, and long whiskers flowed gracefully in the wind, almost as if they were floating. Despite his powerful build, Torrent had a rather large belly.
The cart Torrent pulled was impressively large, laden with enormous sacks of food products. In addition to the supplies, the cart carried eighteen children and two adults. Despite the immense weight, Torrent pulled the cart effortlessly, showing no signs of strain. Instead, the kirin appeared bored, his attention more focused on the enticing basket of treats within his reach.
The children chatted animatedly among themselves. The oldest ones—Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos—were the most excited, their anticipation palpable. They had just turned ten, and the approaching Festival of the Gods was a momentous occasion for them.
Also riding in the carriage were Pacificus and Merina, their hands adorned with matching rings. They sat close together, the warmth of their connection evident in their every glance and touch.
Inside the town, statues and symbols of faith were proudly displayed in front of every household. Each one was adorned with an array of flowers and little altars, their vibrant colors standing out against the backdrop of the quaint homes. These altars and symbols seemed to compete with one another, each trying to outshine the rest in a show of devotion and reverence. Despite their already elaborate decorations, women and children continued to add more flowers to their altars, their hands busy with the task as if it were a distraction from their aching hearts. The uncertainty about the fate of the men who had gone to war weighed heavily on their minds, and this act of beautification provided a temporary solace.
Children returned home early, eager to prepare for the annual festival that brought a rare sense of joy and unity to the town. This was no ordinary festival; it was a grand celebration, so significant that attacking anyone during this sacred time was considered sacrilege and would mark the offender as an enemy of the Gods.
Even though the festival had yet to officially begin, the town looked ready to burst into celebration. The streets were lined with colorful banners and streamers, fluttering gently in the spring breeze. Children ran about, their laughter echoing through the streets as they helped their families with the final preparations.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the town, the final touches were being made. The altars now shimmered with the last rays of daylight, each one a testament to the town's unwavering faith and hope. The town was ready, not just for the festival, but for a moment of collective joy and remembrance of better times, as they awaited the return of their loved ones.
The children inside the orphanage tried to sleep early, but their excitement for the upcoming festival proved too much. Before long, they found themselves gathered in the kitchen, cooking up a feast from the ingredients they could find. Laughter and the clatter of utensils filled the cozy space as the aroma of their culinary creations mingled with the lingering scent of freshly baked bread.
The adults, far from reprimanding the children for being up past their bedtime, joined in the impromptu celebration. They shared stories and jokes, the lines between caregiver and child blurred by the shared warmth and joy of the moment. Plates piled high with food were passed around, each dish a testament to the children's growing culinary skills.
Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of the orphanage, Merina was making the finishing touches on three special garments for three of the children. The clothes appeared ordinary at first glance, simple and practical, but a closer look revealed the meticulous care that had gone into every stitch. Each thread was woven with precision, each seam reinforced for durability. The fabric was soft but sturdy, chosen for comfort as well as resilience.
What set these clothes apart, however, was the design: the back of each garment was open. Merina's fingers moved deftly, her years of experience evident in the speed and accuracy of her work. Just beside here are two fabrics one black and one white, near the two fabrics is a drawing of a tree with its roots. She hummed softly as she sewed, the gentle melody blending with the distant sounds of laughter from the kitchen.