Chapter 2 - Ride to the Square

After breakfast, I help Mitch load the wagon for the ride to the square. Since father did so well at this month's maker's market, there isn't as much to load as usual. Still, Mum and I have been busy while father was gone, so it takes two of us to heft the large baskets onto the wagon. My family grows and creates herb bundles for cleansing and cooking. However, it's our purifying herb wreaths that really keep us doing well. Father uses a special process to weave, dry, and preserve the plants so that their potency lasts at least half a year. Most other wreaths made in our territory only last a couple months at best. The Protectors are some of our best customers since they can usually afford my Pa's prices and need the wreaths more than others. Most people can live comfortably just from purifying their homes and receiving blessings a few times a year. Even then, it's mostly a precaution. It's extremely rare for demons to make it all the way to a village, whether they are ethereal or corporeal. Avalata is surrounded by multiple barriers that are patrolled by the Protectors all day and night. Protectors even patrol a certain area outside the barrier to monitor for any sign of demon activity. They are also in charge of keeping the traveler's road to the other districts maintained and cutting back any brush that comes too close to the district. Most importantly and most dangerously, the Protectors go on ranging missions. While all Protectors are fierce in combat and weaponry, it is only the best of the best that are designated for ranging duty. These Protectors seek out the very beasts and demons that make the borders necessary and they destroy them. In this way, they are almost constantly in danger of demonic contact. Possession is one of the worst case scenarios, but even touching or being in close contact with a demon can have drastic negative effects on the mind and body. Hallucinations, vomiting, fever, rash, and emotional outbursts are just some of the ways in which a demon's touch can taint a person. Sometimes, the symptoms are permanent and can lead to madness. My village calls it the Scarlet Touch because of the bright red and almost claw like pattern of the rash itself. This is what our wreaths are so effective at preventing. They can be tailored to fit over the ranging hats all the Protectors wear or can be hung above their heads in their tents when they camp. They usually buy the herb bundles in bulk as well so they can purify the tents each time they make camp.

The ride into the square doesn't take long. Pa lets Mitch sleep in the back, because he's had an extra soft spot for him ever since he spent a month sick in bed with Slender Pox a few years ago. They call it that, because between the vomiting, diarrhea, and long sleeping spells, most people lose so much weight that they literal waste away. I'm not exaggerating when I say Mitch almost didn't make it. I think it's wrong to coddle him so much, but I would never say this to Pa. I glance back at him every now and then. We have the same dark skin and hair like Pa, but that's where the similarities end. He's got mum's amber eyes where I have Pa's black ones. He's got Pa's stocky build where I'm tall and athletic like mum. He always sleeps in as late as possible, where as I'm up with the sun. He struggles with his wreath work, often having to unwind and start over, but I'm almost as good as Pa. Honestly, I don't think Mitch tries very hard. Maybe he thinks it won't matter since I'll inherit the farm anyway, being the oldest female. Still, he'll struggle to find a wife if it doesn't look like he can pull his weight. I push this concern away as we near the square. One worry about Mitch has away of multiplying into twenty worries, and I have to focus. I only have a one more day of training and a day of rest before the Trial. Every trainee who turns twenty this month, has to face their Trial on the first day of the following month. My birthday is tomorrow, the day before the Trial. I'll be facing it with four others.

We pull into the square and stop abruptly which wakes Mitch up. Setting up our stall and unloading the wagon takes very little time. Pa presses a juniper bundle into my palm before I take off. I know he means for me to trade this for a pork bun during the afternoon break in training, and I give him a quick hug in gratitude. Pa has always been supportive even if he doesn't fully understand my decisions. I've been training almost every day for five years and Pa has never tried to change my mind about becoming a Protector. Perhaps it's a little easier for him than Mum. As far as I know, no one in Pa's family was ever a Protector. It's actually one of the reason's Mum chose him. She could of had her pick of men in town, being merchant class and set to inherit her family's farm. Not to mention her fair skin, light brown hair and amber eyes set her apart from most of the other women in town. Many women want a Protector for a husband since they earn a decent wage, but my mother was drawn to the sturdiness and dependability of Pa. Aside from his monthly trips to the district maker's market, he has no desire for travel or adventure. It also doesn't hurt that Pa came from a family of basket weavers, and thus had the potential to learn the trade of Mum's family with ease. This proved more than accurate since Pa's wreaths and herb bundles outsell everyone else's.