Vaughn made his way to the butcher’s hut, located on the Western edge of the commons, right next to the village storehouse. Vaughn entered the butchery, which was devoid of fresh meat hanging for display. Vaughn scanned the building, only to find no sign of the butcher.

“Uhhh… Hello?” Vaughn called out. “Owain, are you here?”

There was no response.

“I have the meat for the festival tonight! Hello, Owain!”

Vaughn stood there in silence.

Where could he be? Thought Vaughn. Maybe he’s at the storehouse?

Vaughn left the butcher’s hut and went to the storehouse. Aside from the clerk who kept track of everything, Vaughn found no one else. Vaughn asked the clerk for the whereabouts of Owain, but she did not know, either. He left the storehouse, hanging his head low in defeat. As he passed the butcher’s hut, he crashed into something, throwing him off guard. He looked up and saw Owain, clad in his butcher’s apron.

“I’m so sorry, Owain,” said Vaughn. “I came here to look for you but you weren’t there so I went to the storehouse and the clerk said you weren’t there either so I came back here and then I ran into you.”

Owain chuckled. “Did you think you could hurt me? I’m too burly for that. So, what do you have for the festival?”

Vaughn handed the sack to Owain. He opened it and glanced inside.

“The first work I’ve had in weeks and it’s just a scrawny rabbit. Here I was thinking I’d actually get to do some work instead of having my wives call me lazy and sending me to the House of Males. I really should stop getting my hopes up.”

“There haven’t been any sheep brought in?” said Vaughn.

“None at all. From what my regular herders tell me they’ve had to cull the herds because they can’t find enough food or water for any of them. It’s allegedly better out East, but I don’t have any sources to verify.”

“So, what will we feast upon tonight?” said Vaughn.

“I haven’t talked to Arin since she and Morwenna gave me the boot, but based on what you have provided she’ll probably take some sheep's head and the rabbit and make them into a stew and serve it with fruit bread.”

"Sounds delicious,” said Vaughn sarcastically.

Owain laughed. “Good one, Altar Keeper. I’ll bring the foot and hide once I've taken apart this sorry excuse for a rabbit.”

“Thank you,” said Vaughn.

“You’re welcome, Altar Keeper,” said Owain as he entered his workspace.

Vaughn waited outside the butcher’s hut. Once he the sound of knives being sharpened, Vaughn left for his next destination – his house.

Vaughn and Rhia lived in a modest hut close to the path to the temple. The exterior was clad in clay bricks and a wooden roof, a status symbol in the village. Their house also had a small front porch, another rarity in Penmawr. Vaughn opened the door and entered the house. The interior was divided into two rooms and had wood flooring, more proof of the importance of the hut’s occupants. The front half was a living/cooking area while the back half was the bedroom. Vaughn made his way over to the tiny wash basin in the corner, still full of water and the various herbs used to clean oneself. Vaughn dunked his head into the basin, followed by both his forearms and his feet. The lukewarm water quickly became inundated with grime. Vaughn reminded himself to empty it later this evening and to thank Rhia.

Vaughn went into the bedroom and grabbed a forest green sleeveless shirt and plaid kilt from his clothes drawer. He took off his current outfit and put on the relatively clean clothes. Vaughn exited the bedroom and sat down at the table. There waiting for him were two slices of fruit bread. Vaughn devoured the two pieces of bread. It wasn’t the most delicious food, but it was food nonetheless. He went to cut a third slice, but after remembering the barren fields, refrained from doing so.

Vaughn walked across the room and grabbed a jar off the shelf above the food cabinet. He took the jar back to the table and opened it up. Inside were scrolls of papyrus paper ravaged by the passing of time. Vaughn picked out the torn scroll and opened it. It wasn’t part of his job to read, Vaughn wanted to learn for himself. He started teaching himself during autumn. Half a year later, he had the basics down. 

“Laima visited Epona and de-li-ver-ed the cry-stal of vi-tal-ity,” Vaughn read out loud in a hushed voice. 

What’s a Crystal of Vitality? Vaughn thought. Whatever it is, it sounds important.

“The crystal was a piece of Laima herself. Epona used the crystal to re-juh…” Vaughn struggled with the word. “Re-joo-veen… re-joo-vin-ate… rejuvinate the world. Sand became grass, life rose from the dirt, and...”

Vaughn stopped reading the scroll. He didn’t need to read the rest to know what came next. It was the tale of Epona, the savior of the world. The Priestess loved to tell that story to Vaughn and his siblings as a kid. What boy wouldn’t want to be told over why girls are better? 

Wait… Vaughn thought. The Priestess never mentioned a Crystal of Vitality. She always told us Laima returned life to the land once most of the men had killed each other. Strange. I must read on!

Vaughn read the rest of the scroll, finding no difference from the story he was told as a child. He emptied the jar looking for the other part of the scroll. No luck. Just the other scrolls on marriage, farming, and his ancestor, Ufoch. Defeated, Vaughn put away the scrolls and shoved the jar back onto the shelf, carefully placing it behind the other jars of food. He grabbed a basket and his canteen and walked out the door to complete the rest of his tasks for the day.

Vaughn made his way to the western edge of the village, beyond the walls of the main village and even beyond the few farm fields on the island. Nestled between the fishermens’ shacks and the watchtower stood a small worn and simple box perched upon a thick wooden pole four feet tall. The rear face was dominated by a drawing of several light blue squiggles and two circles, one white and the other ash grey. This was the shrine to Eselda, the Goddess of the currents and moons. Laima was the patron deity of Penmawr, but that did not mean prayers to the other deities were forbidden. However, it was the job of her temple to maintain the shrines by cleaning them once a week. The gods look after each other, so their followers must do the same. Vaughn found Eselda’s shrine full of melted wax stumps and ash, evidence of many recent prayers and offerings. Vaughn grabbed his small brush out of the basket and deposited the burnt out candles in the basket. He then took the brush and cleaned out the ash, paying special attention to Eselda’s sigil at the back. Once all the ash was in one place, it was merely swept out onto the ground below.

Vaughn repeated the task at the other two shrines in the village, dedicated to Drustan and Hallwen, respectively. Once the shrines were cleaned, Vaughn made his way back up the hill to the temple. Waiting for him at the top was once again the Priestess. She stared at him with a slight scowl and frown, dumbfounding Vaughn. Had he done something else wrong? He quickly realized, though, why the Priestess looked so angry when Kenna appeared from behind the Priestess, her clothes dirtier than earlier and her hands behind her back.

"Why are you so troublesome today?” said the Priestess. “Kenna told me about the incident earlier today, how you took her new horse for a joy ride.”

“A joy ride?” Vaughn said, even more dumbfounded. “I did no such thing. I merely found her horse outside the village so I brou-”

“LIAR!!!” Kenna screeched. “You came into town dirty, just like my riding pad. You even smelled like Tesni!”

“Priestess,” Vaughn said, “do I smell like a horse to you?”

The priestess picked up Vaughn’s left arm and inhaled.

"No, I don’t think so,” said the Priestess.

“I don’t smell like horse,” Vaughn said. “Therefore, how could I have rode her horse?”

"That doesn’t prove anything,” Kenna said. “You easily could’ve masked the scent. You’ve already changed clothes. A dip in the river beforehand isn’t that much of a stretch.”

The Priestess raised her finger and opened her mouth, but quickly shut it.

“Are you really considering the lies of petty Kenna?” Vaughn said with a slight raise in his voice. “She’s just mad her horse ran off and that I retu-”

“Altar Keeper,” the Priestess said in a stern voice. “What have I told you about calling people bad names?”

"I didn’t call her a bad name,” Vaughn said. “I’m stating the truth because she is being petty.”

“And that’s calling her a bad name,” the Priestess said.

"I just wanted to go for a nice ride this morning,” Kenna said. “But instead I had to spend all day washing my riding pad and brushing my horse clean of your male-ness. Look at my hands! YOU ruined them!"

She lifted her hands for the Priestess and Vaughn to see. They were both red and covered in dirt, while her right pinky finger and ring finger were purplish, swollen, and tied together in a rudimentary splint.

"Tesni stepped on my hand while I was brushing her,” Kenna said, tears forming at the base of her eyes. “I wanted to enjoy the Life Festival but can’t, thanks to your stupid joyride!”

The Priestess looked at Vaughn with a scowl on her face.

“And here I was thinking you had grown out of your childish fantasies,” said the Priestess. “I guess I was wrong. What do you have to say for yourself?”

"Why are you believing her?” Vaughn asked. “I didn’t ride her horse. I swear on my honor.”

“Do you remember the last time you tried to ride a horse,” the Priestess asked.

“Yeah,” said Vaughn, ashamed. “I was a stupid twelve-year-old and couldn’t stay on it for more than five seconds.”

“Then you remember what happened to your cousin, don’t you?” the Priestess said. 

“Nothing happened to my cousin,” said Vaughn.

“Don’t you lie to me more,” the Priestess said. “You know the horse you rode stepped on her hand when she tried to brush it clean of your impurities. Just like with Kenna and her horse. Its mind was tainted by your impurities, causing it to step on Kenna’s hand, just like it did with your cousin.” 

“What!?!” said Vaughn. “I did not take her horse out for a joy ri-”

"I have had enough of your lies, Altar Keeper,” the Priestess said as she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the temple. 

Vaughn became paralyzed by shock, making it easier for the Priestess to drag him towards the temple. He looked back, seeing Kenna standing with a smirk plastered on her face. As the duo approached the entrance of the temple, Rhia stood in front of it, her arms extended out.clan

“What are you doing, Diviner Rhianon?” said the Priestess as she tightened her grip on Vaughn’s arm. “This liar needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Vaughn isn’t lying,” said Rhia. “You’re forgetting obvious evidence: Vaughn’s tendency to avoid horses. Sure, he’ll help deal with a horse when asked, but other than that he avoids them like a sheep avoids wolves. Do you think he’d suddenly go around trying to get on a horse?”

"You know how males can be,” the Priestess said. “They all act on impulse under the right conditions.”

"Vaughn’s tendency is stronger than any impulse,” Rhia said. 

“You have a lot to learn, Diviner Rhianon,” the Priestess said. “Now, please, move so I can deal with this rowdy male.”

“No,” Rhia said. “I’m not letting you harm him. For goodness sake, he’s your own son! How can you believe her over your own flesh and blood?”

The Priestess tensed up, further tightening her grip on Vaughn’s arm. Vaughn felt his arm tingle as it was deprived of fresh blood. He went to loosen the vice-like grip, only to have his hand swatted back by the Priestess. 

“Don’t you start causing more trouble, Altar Keeper,” said the Priestess. “As for you, Diviner Rhianon, step out of the way or you’ll suffer the same fate as him.”

"Diviner Rhianon is right, though,” said a calm and monotonous voice from inside the temple. From Vaughn’s left, a tall, thin, woman with long dark brown hair moved to behind Rhia. Her green robe, the same as Rhia’s, draped off her flat body like the clothes of an adult on a child. If it wasn’t for the robe and feminine voice, she easily could be mistaken for a long-haired man.

"Diviner Senga?” said the Priestess, “why are you interfering, too?”

“To stop you from invoking the gods’ wrath,” said Senga as she ducked under Rhia’s arms and exited the temple. “Diviner Rhianon is indeed correct. Vaughn’s tendency to avoid horses is stronger than any impulse. Two days ago he deliberately took a longer route from my home to his simply because the shortest route went right by the stables. Do you think someone who wouldn’t even go near the stables to save time on his journey home would then go ride a horse only a few days later? In addition, I was at the stables this afternoon with Kenna. She was being too rough with her horse, crushing her brush against her fur. The horse didn’t like it, but Kenna seemed to not care. On my way out, she had already tried to kick Kenna twice as a result.”

“His impurity still could’ve made the horse ornery,” the Priestess said.

"Really?” said Senga. “Which do you think is more probable: the obedient Altar Keeper suddenly breaking the rules, or improper horse care?”

The Priestess opened her mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it once more.

“Need I also to remind the Priestess that wrongfully muting someone would lead to catastrophe?” Senga said. “So, which do you think is more probable?”

“The latter, of course,” said the Priestess as she let go of Vaughn’s arm. “Kenna, if you leave now and stop wallowing in your anger, I won’t punish you. Is that clear?”

Kenna nodded and bowed before sprinting down the hill. The Priestess walked back into the temple.

“Altar Keeper,” said the Priestess. “You would do yourself a favor if next time you see a lone horse you either ignore it or go get someone more qualified to help.”

"Yes, Priestess, sorry, Priestess,” said Vaughn as he bowed to her.

"Excellent,” said the Priestess. “Now, I must get ready for the festival. Altar Keeper, clean up the temple. Diviners, while you wait for him to finish, get the materials and scrolls ready for tonight’s ceremony. Then, he will join you to escort our special guest to their sleeping arrangements. I will pick up the offering from the butcher on the way back. I’m counting on you tonight.”

“Yes, Priestess!” said Vaughn, Rhia, and Senga in unison.

Senga and Rhia walked to the storage shed and the Priestess left down the hill, leaving Vaughn to enter the temple. Vaughn found a complete mess at the altar. Remnants of herbs and other liquids stained the floor and altar pit while broken bits of ritual bowls were scattered across the temple. Vaughn sighed and got to cleaning. Luckily the Priestess had left the dustpan out, along with a rag and a partially full goblet of water. He collected the broken bowls with the dustpan. Then he cleaned up the liquids with one rag and wet another, using the wet rag to collect any remaining liquids on the floor. When Vaughn was done, Senga and Rhia were finished with their preparations. With the Sun setting, the trio began the walk to the market.