"Are you going to be putting your trousers back on, Mac?" Ramon asks while sucking in his breath.

Loaner gallops around the potato field in near panic, desperately trying to put some distance between itself and the Sage. Or more precisely, between itself and the red hot branding iron the Sage is brandishing. But no matter how fast Loaner runs, the Sage's calm, measured pace inexorably closes the distance between them. 

"Are you?" I raise an eyebrow at Ramon who's leaning heavily against the wooden shelter, a look of elemental pain on his face, trousers left forgotten by the side of the dirt road. 

"Bum's still too painful." Ramon mutters between clenched teeth, wincing from the memory of the Sage applying that branding iron on his ass. 

"Yeah. The cool wind is sort of soothing." I agree, hunched over thanks to the discomfort. It feels like a giant blister had formed on my butt. I've tried dulling the pain with my magic, but haven't had any luck so far. Its almost as if the brand struck deeper than my flesh and anchored itself into my body. 

A loud shriek from Loaner interrupts whatever Ramon's about to say, causing both of us to look up. Ramon smacks his lips uneasily as we watch the Sage press the brand hard into Loaner's flank. 

"The three of us have been making quite a ruckus out in this field." Ramon whispers softly to me, "Yet no one in the village has taken any notice."

"Makes me feel better walking about without pants on." I sigh, but get Ramon's meaning regardless. The Sage must have pulled some kind of trick to get the whole of Springvale to ignore our antics. Out of idle curiosity, I decide to test that theory out by thrusting my crotch in the direction of the farmhands working the next field over. 

"You look stupid." Ramon frowns as I vigorously move my hips to the beat of House Robeur's marching song. After so many years working for them and standing in the parade ground at attention, I'm pretty much able to hum out the beat on demand. 

"Damn, no one's responding." I observe as the farmhands resolutely ignore my manly physical movements, "Should give it a few more minutes though. Somebody's bound to look in our direction sooner or later."

"Sure, why not?" Ramon walks up beside me and begins thrusting his crotch as well, "Its not everyday you can get away with doing stuff like this."

"Seriously, you have no idea what a relief not having pants on is," I comment offhandedly, "not until you have to wear formal knight attire. Have you seen the breeches? Its always one actual size smaller than the supposed official size. Makes the fit around the waist and crotch so bloody tight."

"Never had the honor." Ramon smiles ruefully, "By the way, thanks."

"For what?" I purse my lips distractedly, "I haven't done anything in particular."

"For getting branded." Ramon waves his hands for emphasis, "And for agreeing to escort me back home. You didn't need to do it but agreed anyway. So thanks."

"No problem." I shrug, "Least I could do after I got you involved with the weirdness in Springvale."

"Still, once we get back, I'll make sure to -" Ramon begins but I cut him off.

"I said its not a problem." I rasp, feeling slightly uncomfortable at this conversation, "Let's leave it at that. OK?"

"OK." Ramon says affably, as the both of us take a breather from thrusting our crotches at the farmhands. And not a single one noticed us. What are the odds?

"All done." the Sage drones as he walks up to us with Loaner following dispiritedly behind him, "Now let's see what I can do about replenishing your supplies and equipment for your journey." 

"Wait. Wait!" Ramon objects loudly, "How does helping you save my family? You never want into the details just now."

"Ramon Dasar." the Sage's flat voice rumbles as he puts aside the branding iron, "Your family is fated to die. That is the natural course of things in this world. I am giving you a chance to change that."

"Everyone born is fated to die." I scoff, "We're really going to need more detail than that."

"Why do you say that, Mac Nair?" the Sage asks as he grabs a handful of earth and lets his hand hover over the burning brazier.

"Because its obvious." I jab my index finger out, "We're all bound to die at some time. Old age would get you, even if you managed to avoid violence, disease or bad luck."

"The passage of time." the Sage responds, slowly pouring a trickle of earth over the fire, "An inevitability you say?"

"Yes I most certainly do." I grumble before reaching out and grabbing the Sage by his shoulders. I then turn the man about so he's facing both me and Ramon. 

"What are you doing?" the Sage asks, mildly annoyed. 

"You know, talking while looking away from the person you're conversing with doesn't make you look mysterious." I give the Sage a critical look, "Its just annoying. Stop it."

"Makes it hard to follow what you're saying too, good sir." Ramon adds, "No offence intended."

"None taken." the Sage answers mildly, "Though I daresay most people would be offended by being confronted by a pair of trouserless men."

"And most people would be offended by being branded with a hot poker." I point out, "We can't get everything we want in life."

"Fair enough." the Sage nods, "Consider this then, do both of you remember your pasts? Before you became the men you are today?"

"Just give us a minute." Ramon says as he begins putting on his trousers with me following suit.

The pain in my ass had died down by now, and the Sage had such a glacial temperament that there was no point in trying to get him flustered. I get the impression that the Sage was the kind of guy who would react the same way whether he was walking down the street or stepping into a wild sex orgy. 

With polite indifference and completely unflappable calm. 

"Sure. Its a blur, but I can remember the important bits." I shrug, "It was decades ago, y'know."

"Same here." Ramon nods in agreement.

"Good." the Sage's mouth mechanically, "What was the last big event in both of your lives, before you two settled in Deshawn City?"

"My parents gifting me a sword and sending me off to the Academy." I reply immediately. 

"Attending my brother's wedding back at the manor." Ramon pipes up as well. 

"And when did these events occur?" the Sage's gaze becomes heavy, almost inquisitorial. 

"Years ago, obviously." I remark and Ramon makes a vague noise of agreement. 

"Are you sure?" the Sage presses, his eyes boring into us. 

"Yes!" Ramon exclaims, growing uneasy and impatient, "Why are you asking us these questions, good sir?" 

"Think. Carefully." the Sage urges, "Do both of you know how to calculate time by the celestial cycles?"

"Of course." I respond, "The movement of the sun and moon is the surest way of counting the days. The constellations even change in set patterns as the years go by."

"Ea starts the cycle, the first constellation," Ramon rubs his chin, "After that its the constellation that represents Enn ..."

"Don't forget Hackal." I mutter, "His constellation shows up every few months to break up the year. A sign of the dark god always returning or something like that."

"Hm. So first its Ea," Ramon muses while counting with his fingers, "Then ... then ..."

"Pahlaver's Star should finish the sequence." I bite my lip, recalling my lessons at the village school, "That would make twenty years, give or take."

"Uh huh." Ramon's voice drifts away as his brows knit together, "Are you sure that's right, Mac? Pahlaver ending the sequence?"

"Pretty sure." I say, my voice is wavering. Something is wrong. I know my knowledge of the celestial cycle is correct. 

But I have never seen Pahlaver's Star. 

"No wait." Ramon clicks his tongue, "Are you sure Enn is the second constellation? And not Hackal?"

"Yes. I'm sure." I begin counting with my fingers, "The sequence is Ea, Hackal, Ea, Hackal, Ea, Hackal, Enn, Hackal -"

"Can't be." Ramon's mouth is dry as he begins to tremble, "Doesn't Hackal have a year of his own?"

"What? No." I shake my head in confusion, "Hackal's not a creator god. He can only interrupt the year."

"But that would mean ..." Ramon begins to tremble noticeably, "Can't be though. Its impossible."

"What was the last major constellation you remember seeing?" I ask Ramon with a lump in my throat. 

"Enn." Ramon licks his lips nervously, "It's that dipper thing pointing down from the night sky, right?"

"Same here." I murmur, shaken by the implication of what Ramon is saying. The Sage merely looks on in silence, letting us draw our own conclusions. 

"How did we never notice this?" Ramon suddenly blurts out. 

"I don't know." I say, honestly bewildered, "I mean it makes no sense. We're obviously the age of adults."

"If we go by the celestial cycle though ..." Ramon trembles, unable to continue. 

The Sage though, is more than ready to pick up the slack.

"Both of you would be slightly more than a year old."