As they walked out of the dining hall, Morus loosened the straps of his backpack slightly, since the first heavy meal in a long time made him uncomfortable. When he was done, raised one hand to block the radiant sunlight shining into his eyes. Warmth seeped into his skin and into his innards, from both the warm meal and the sun.

  The world widened in front of them. As the longhouse was built on relatively elevated ground, the siblings could see the packed dirt path leading straight to the main gate which they entered through, with the farm plots flanking the road. Beyond the walls, however, was just the tree canopy as far as they could see. As their eyes followed the path back, they spotted the Tailor’s shop on their right, seated in the corner of the crossroads leading up to the longhouse.

  To the left and right branches of the crossroads lay several wooden huts, nearly identical in design, which could be assumed to be the abodes of the villagers here. Ten to the left, another ten to the right.

  Looking back to where they stood, three paths converged before the great door: the straight ceremonial path down the slope to the crossroads, and two symmetrical arms that branched east and west. These arms swept around the longhouse's wings, forming a service road that encircled the entire elevated compound.

  Straightforward, logical and efficient, Morus thought. Everything in the village seemed to serve a purpose, but he failed to spot anything resembling an outhouse or even a latrine from where they stood.

  Once the tension of their morning ‘jog’ and the nervousness of entering this village was washed away with a not well-deserved but deeply appreciated bath, as well as a warm meal that broke their fast, the siblings felt the need for another kind of release.

  “Hey Asa.”

  The scarred-ranger turned around at the sound of her name.

  “Can you show me where the toilets… er… outhouse is?” Morus asked.

  Ban looked at Monica and asked, “Do you also…?”

  To which the girl nodded her head.

  Asa and Ban looked at each other. Their roles assigned instantly. Ban led Monica gently by the wrists, while Asa motioned for Morus to follow.

  Asa and Morus went to their right, the wing where Morus’ guestroom was located, while Ban and Monica went to the left.

  The two pairs arrived in front of the ‘toilet’ at the same time, located at the other end of the hallways they had entered. Contrary to their expectations, which was a dirty latrine or the outhouse in a certain swamp ogre movie, a door inside the longhouse was what they saw first.

  Entering through the doors, the siblings were greeted with a sight that was surprisingly more modern than they thought. A long stone bench with carved keyhole openings was hunkered against the walls, two wooden partitions separating the three stalls and each a door for privacy.

  Mounted on the back of each ‘toilet’ was a wooden tank that had a clay pipe running into them, an easily recognizable pull-to-flush system for the siblings. At the base of the benches sat wooden steps, as well as a clay pipeline with wooden covers, presumably for sewage, which led outside.

  A wooden bucket with water and a ladle were located inside each stall, its function obvious. To the side of the entrance was a wooden basin, beside it, a wooden bucket filled with water and a ladle as well — a place to wash hands. At the bottom of a basin was also a similar pipeline that joined with the ones of the stalls.

  The place did not smell… much. Thanks to the presence of the hanging herbs of mint, lavender and what they assumed to be sage. It was also well ventilated, which might have also contributed to the lack of smell.

  Having been exposed to similar and worse toilets than this before, the siblings quickly finished their business, washed their hands and met with their respective caretaker. Though Monica did have a bit of trouble with her dress, it was just a minor inconvenience.

  Instead of moving towards the front of the longhouse, the siblings were brought out the back, through the nearest exit where they were located.

  Curious about what was directly behind the longhouse, the siblings looked over, their eyes drawn to the anvil located beneath the center of a leather canopy, the canopy itself was secured against the wall of the longhouse and two sturdy timber posts. A furnace nestled against the wooden walls of the longhouse, but a thick layer of what seems to be clay suggests proper and extensive fireproofing. Even the floor here was paved with brick tiles.

  Then the siblings met eyes, and the two pairs now reconvened.

  “Brother! Brother! Their toilet’s fancy~!” Monica mused.

  “I agree, it was better than I expected.”

  “Right? Right? I was worried about dirtying the dress, but I was just overthinking things.”

  “It would be such a pity if you dirtied a dress that looks this good on you.”

  Asa looked at them, unimpressed, “Do you think we do our business in the bushes?”

  The embarrassed look in the siblings’ eyes told her what she needed to know, and she rolled her eyes. “Not while in civilization!”

  Asa gave up, and presented with her palm, “This here is the forge.”

  “That’s obvious. But where’s the blacksmith?” Morus asked.

  “You’ve already met him. But now, let’s go on our tour.”

  Was Gad the blacksmith? He doesn’t seem like the sort. Morus pondered for a second, but he knew better to make judgements about others, as there are many layers to people.

  Looking forward, another slope that led down the hill, another crossroads, perhaps the housing paths join up here. By the crossroads, two buildings stood. A workshop of some sorts on one side, difficult to tell its purpose with the doors closed. Opposite it was definitely a clay workshop of sorts, with several kilns which were both in and out of use, and bricks laid stacked in one corner of its open area.

  Further ahead, there was a little localized wasteland located near the walls, a branch in the straight path that led towards it. Further up the straight path, what appears to be a lumberyard with several stacks of logs already stockpiled. But what was most eye-catching, was the building that resembled a greenhouse with its mostly transparent walls, that allowed one to see a vague hint of green within at this distance.

  Once they moved down the slope, Morus noticed that the pipes joined together on the right side of the path, the other end leading towards the wasteland that they saw a moment ago.

  ‘They dug trenches and used a pipeline, so it doesn’t affect walking, that’s smart.’ The part where the pipeline crossed roads was covered with wooden planks, which didn’t go unnoticed by Morus.

  Asa pointed at the building to their left, “This here, is the carpenter’s workshop. Anything and everything you’ve seen made of wood. His hands.”

  Ban added, “The wands and staves he makes also makes casting magic easier!”

  “Really!? If I use a wand, can I cast magic too?” Monica ‘ooh-ed’ at that and her eyes sparkled.

  “That depends! Do you know magic?”

  Monica looked at Morus, and he shrugged in reply.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Uhm. I don’t know?”

  “Well! Some wands can store magic! So the caster doesn’t need to be a mage to use one! All it requires is just the person to insert a tiny amount of mana to trigger the spell!”

  ‘At least my wizard-dream isn’t out the window!’ Monica thought to herself.

  Before Ban could continue with her spiel about magic, Asa stopped her promptly.

  “We can leave the lessons later.” She turned around and pointed to the building with many kilns placed outside, “This… is the Potter’s workshop. Bricks, clay, pottery, you get the idea.”

  Monica stifled a snicker and looked at Morus, but the disapproving look on his face told her that he knew what she was thinking and didn’t find the joke funny.

  Ban pouted a bit after being interrupted by Asa, she stared off into the distance, towards the hut in the small wasteland.

  They walked forwards further, Monica’s eyes dazzled at Ban as she pestered the tailor-mage to give her magic lessons later. Morus’ eyes were glued to the greenhouse that was getting closer, although the view was worse compared to when they were on the hill.

  As they reached the fork in the road, they moved onto the branching path. There was a slight slope downwards, and Morus noticed the pipes going this way as well.

  The closer they got to the ‘wasteland’, Morus had an inkling of what it was after seeing the earth around the path stained dark, barren of any vegetation, weeds included, cratered with pits and troughs. Only when they crossed the ‘threshold’ and saw the tanning hides, and the smell… oh the smell, confirmed it for them, this was the Tannery.

  The sharp stink of ammonia mixed with rotten eggs caused the siblings’ eyes to water. Morus found the ammonia stench unpleasant but it was the smell of sulfur that really irritated his airways. Monica, having no experience dealing with university-grade chemicals, possessed no resistance towards this intense stench of chemicals, and gagged a little.

  Asa’s nose twitched a bit but Ban was largely unaffected. The two locals seemed quite amused by the two outsiders, but were expecting a bigger reaction from Morus. Perhaps because he looked frail and didn’t appear to possess experience dealing with such things?

  It took a few seconds for Monica to get used to the smell, and once she was better, the group moved towards the Tanner’s workshop, careful not to step into the pits and troughs. Both in worry of catching the stench and drawing the ire of the Tanner.

  Once they got used to the smell of ammonia and sulfur, the siblings noticed a sweet… sickeningly sweet stench that threatened to make them gag, and the smell of rancid dairy originating from the pits in the ground. The moment the group got close enough to the hut, Ban ran forward.

  “Bay! Your sis is here to see you!”

  And she slammed into the door, headfirst.

  “Ow…” She put a palm against her head.

  Asa palmed her own forehead, for a different reason.

  Monica and Morus just alternated between shock and horror.

  After a few seconds, the door flew open from the inside. Narrowly missing Ban, who quickly stepped out of the door’s trajectory.

  “WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” A young man shouted, a slight desperation and annoyance in his tone.

  The young man was wearing an heavily-oiled apron that was the deep saturation of old wood, not from filth, but from its years of drinking in oil and tannins. The apron extended stiffly from his chest to his knees, but when he moved, it moved, no, flowed with his body. There were no visible stains on the front of his apron, suggesting he was a master of his craft and perhaps something more.

  Ban went in for a hug.

  “STOP!”

  Ban halted, arms still in a hugging position.

  The young man continued, “Just give me a second.”

  He went back inside the workshop, from the outside, his silhouette can be seen taking off gloves, then untying the apron from his back, then hanging the apron onto a hook that was behind the wall. He did it swiftly, but not in a haphazard manner, in fact, there was a sense of sacredness or rituality with how he had taken off his gear.

  ‘A kindred spirit.’ Morus commented in his head.

  The young man walked back into the sun, and into Ban’s embrace, he said the magic word.

  “Continue.”

  As if time unpaused, Ban squeezed her brother tightly. Her head dug into his chest, and Bay’s hands just dropped down in defeat.

  Morus estimated Bay’s height to be about the same as he was, and Ban was as tall as Monica.

  “Now, what do you want? You know I hate it when I get interrupted while working.”

  “Nothing much! Just introducing you to my new friend, Nichole! And her brother, Russel!”

  “Right. And I should care, because?”

  “Does a big sis need a reason to see her little brother?” She raised her hand to pinch his cheek, but it was slapped away.

  “Uh-uh, no touching. Now, if you’re done, can I get back to work?” Bay sighed and looked towards the trio, “Asa?”

  Asa smirked at Bay, “Yes, yes. I’ll handle her, you go ahead.” Then the ranger proceeded to walk towards the other pair of siblings and dragged the older sister away by the collar.

  “Noooo~! Bay-bay!”

  “Why do you keep doing this when you know he hates it?”

  “Eh… Because it’s fun? Tee-hee!”

  After that short sibling drama, they went back the way they came and spotted Gad at the fork.

  “Asa!” Gad shouted. He was waving a stick at them. Upon closer inspection, it was not a stick.

  ‘Holy shit. Is he waving a warhammer?’ The same thought ran through Monica and Morus.

  “Where’d you guys go? I thought you got lost!”

  “Sorry Gad.” Asa answered meekly, before she could say more, the giant continued.

  “Anyways, the Chief says he’ll be at the dog house. Let’s go!”

  Asa and Ban looked down the path immediately, Morus and Monica looked as well, but failed to see a dog house anywhere in sight.

  The group moved as Ban explained what they’ve been up to for the past half hour or so, minus the boring parts and omitting the fact that she hit her head.

  Morus looked longingly at the greenhouse, but was forced to follow because he knew the meeting with the Chief was inevitable, better have it done and over with so he knows his fate… their fate, before it was all too late.

  Monica scanned the road for anything interesting, but nothing caught her eye, except the obvious stuff like the lumberyard or greenhouse, but there wasn’t any ‘wow’ factor for her.

  They could see the end of the village as the walls approached. Just as Morus was about to ask where the dog house was, they saw it.

  How could they not notice the tree by the walls? The tree was just the right size, everything about it seemed ‘just right’, the light filtered through its leaves just right, it cast a shadow unto the dog house before it, leaving dots on the grass that could make it pass like the night sky. The largest ray of light that landed on the ground shone at and around a stone pedestal, the familiar beast bathing in the spot of sun, gnawing on a deer thigh the length of its entire body.

  The dog house itself resembled a niche… Or a buddhist altar that was built with sufficient space for a large dog. A round mattress located in the center where the assumed beast sleeps on.

  Chief Ata was wiping at what seems to be a stone plaque embedded or carved into the top of the dog house.

  “You know…”

  Everyone’s attention focused towards the Chief.

  “We call it a Guardian.”

  He walks over to the dog, crouching down and starts combing its fur with one hand.

  “How long has it been?”

  He looks towards the tree.

  “Four years? Five? We planted the tree when it arrived.”

  He looked affectionately at the beast he was petting.

  “We’ve always called it a Guardian. Names have meaning. They have a purpose. Or so said my Brother.”

  Then he looked up, at Morus, into the depths of his soul.

  The intensity behind that gaze made Morus feel like he was the one looking up.

  “As the first outsiders in our village. I request this of you...”

  Monica and Morus both swallowed their saliva. The air was electric. They were nervous. They didn’t know what to expect. Before they managed to make another thought…

  “Give it a name.”

  His tone made it clear that it was not a request, but a demand.

  The siblings gulped yet again.

  They looked at each other, nodding at the same time.

  “Vigil.” “Vigil.”

  They spoke at the same time.

  A breeze.

  Ruffling the leaves of the trees.

  Ruffling the hairs of the siblings.

  Ruffling the fur of the Guardian.

  A moment gone.

  A moment… Witnessed.

  By the world.