Unlike Ocil, Falties is a fortified city with a large stone wall surrounding it. As they approached the gates their solitude came to an end as the road became more cluttered. People heading to and from the surrounding farms with carts and horses. At first, Rosco had worried about people seeing the tiny person sitting on his shoulder would cause a ruckus, but when he voiced this concern, Tansy fell into a fit of giggles. Hayden rolled his eyes at Tansy and told Rosco there was nothing to fret over, though he didn’t explain further.

The gate itself is a large, open archway with a set of iron bars raised up so people can pass under freely. City guard patrolled the entrance, speaking with everyone who passed through. The guard unform was rather plain, just a tabard with the governor’s symbol stitched onto the front. The city guard in Ocil didn’t have a uniform so Rosco had been a bit let down to see theirs was so boring.

One stopped them, simply raised a hand in their path, “Morning,” he greeted, eyeing the pair, “State your names and business in Falties.” The demand was not made harshly but held the authority of one who expected to be obeyed.

Rosco expected Hayden to speak for them, but when he glanced up at the god, he was staring down at Rosco expectantly, “Oh! Um, I’m Rosco and this is Hayden,” Rosco answers, gesturing to himself and the god, “We are here to visit the temples.”

The guard frowned slightly, “Did you come from far?”

“Oh, No.” Rosco chirps excitedly, “Just from Ocil.”

“You should turn back as soon as possible.” The guard advised, crossing his arms. “Your business can wait. The city is having a bit of a crisis. Kids your age have been disappearing in growing numbers around here.”

Hayden gives Rosco a once over, “I know he looks young but he’s actually not a child.”

Rosco screws up his mouth, Tansy snickering in his ear, “I’ll be 18 in the summer, thank you.”

“I meant no offence,” the guard defends, holding up his hands, “But my warning still stands. You are not barred from entering, you’re welcome to gather any supplies you need to travel back, but I’d strongly advise you not to stay the night.”

“What’s happening to them?” Rosco asks, curiosity taking control of his mouth.

The guard shakes his head, “Wish we knew, kids are just vanishing right out of their beds. Rich and poor the same. A lot of people are saying we’ve angered the mountain god, that he’s taking them as punishment.” Rosco sees Hayden clenching his jaw at the mention of gods, “We’ve neither seen nor heard from him for almost five years now,” the guard goes on unaware, “The kids started disappearing shortly after. Just a few at first, but as time goes on, more and more turn up missing.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Hayden grits out, “We will be on our way, unless you need something else from us?”

The guard shakes his head, stepping back, “No, you’re free to go.” Sweeping out his arm, welcoming them into the city. Tansy flying a few circles around his head as they pass.

Inside the walls, Rosco has trouble keeping his mouth closed, gawking openly at just about everything. The area around the gates is filled by market stalls, it reminded him of the main street back in Ocil, but like, the run-down version. The stalls here lacked the refinement of the shops he knew, little more than wooden tables with cloth awnings to keep the sun off the wares. Sellers haggled loudly with their patrons and shouted at passersbys’ to come see what they had to offer. Rosco does his best to stick close to Hayden’s back, sure he’d be lost in an instant if he lost sight of the taller man. He clutches tightly to the back of one of his sleeves to keep himself from wandering off. Tansy darts in and out of the crush of people. Happily tugging and pushing anything they can reach. Being a general pest. As Hayden had promised, no matter what the little wildflower did, not a single person seemed to notice them, only occasionally swatting a hand like one would shoo away a fly.

“Hayden,” Pushing up on his toes to speak in the gods ear, “Where are we going?”

Hayden turns his head, just enough to face him while still watching where he walked, “I’m not entirely sure, the city has changed much since I was last here.”

Rosco is once again unsurprised by the god’s lack of planning, “We need to find a place I can sleep,” chewing at his fingernails, “I don’t have any money, so I’ll need to find someone who will let me work for room and board,” letting a grin split his cheeks, “Lucky for me no one here knows me yet, so it should be easy!” Hayden stops causing Rosco to bump into his back, the boy blinking up at him.

Hayden lets out a soft breathy laugh, pulling the boy to the side of the road out of the flow of travelers, “Where will we find this place?” he asks brightly.

“Oh, Uh,” Rosco stalls, trying to get this thoughts back in order, Hayden had let go of him, but the warmth remained, “I’m sure there will be an inn with attached stables close by,” Squinting out to scan their surroundings, “People with stables are always looking for grunt workers and I’m good with animals, normally,” mumbling that last word mostly to himself. “I’ll just ask someone.”

“There.” Hayden says, pointing across the other side of the road to a large wooden building with a nicely painted sign out front.

“Oh,” Rosco brightens, “You found that rather easily.”

“Well, yes?” his brow crinkling in confusion, “the sign says Rosewood in and stables.”

“I can’t read.” Rosco called over his shoulder, already making his way through the crowd to his destination. He doesn’t bother ensuring Hayden followed him, trusting the man can find his own way across the street.

Pushing open the door of the inn, Rosco quickly scans the space. A large portion of the bottom floor is arranged as a dining room. Patrons sat about the tables eating their lunches, wrapped up in their own lives. He reaches for a passing server, not touching her, just affectively getting her attention, “Who can I speak to about working for a room?” The girl points to a heavy-set older woman behind the bar. Rosco thanks her and makes his way over. Resting his hands on the counter, he waits for the woman to notice him.

“How can I help you?” the woman asks, lifting just her eyes to peer at him.

Rosco swallows back the rush of excited words, trying to sort them out properly before making himself look like a fool. He’s taking too long, and the woman’s eyes begin narrowing, “I’m traveling!” He finally manages to spit out, “I’d like to see if I can work for room and board? I don’t need much, and I’ve done all kinds of work before. I’m really good with animals. I can muck stables, or wash dishes, or haul stuff, or whatever!”

The woman closes her book, looking him over a little more closely, “Alright,” she says slowly, “We have been a bit short handed. I’ll give you a clean patch of hay in the stable loft and two simple meals, you keep the stalls mucked out and see to any small task my husband sets you. Sound good?”

“Yes Ma’am.” He nods eagerly.

“Elene!” she calls over to the server he’s spoken to before and the girl rushed over, “Take this boy out back to Rowen,” the old woman ordered, opening back up her book.

This time, the girl takes a moment to look him over, “Come on then,” she shrugs, unimpressed, “I’m busy.”

Rowen is a life withered old man. Deep wrinkles covering every inch of his well-used body; his sun-soaked skin spotted with age.

For a while, the two stare at each other in silence.

“You worked around horses before, boy?” Rowen asks in his gruff, smoke damaged voice.

“Rosco.”

“You worked around horses before, Rosco?”

“Yes sir.” He answers with a nod, “Lady at the front said I could sleep in the loft if I keep the stalls mucked?”

Rowen rubs his rough chin, “Aye, that would help me quite a bit.”

“I’ll clean them out in the mornings and spend the afternoons on my own business?”

Rowen nods, “That suits me just fine, long as you do the job right.”

Rosco grins, “Great!” scampering up the ladder to the loft.

His bag slips from his shoulder, hitting the loft’s wooden floor with a thump. Looking around, he can see several other places where absent people have claimed their spot of hay. Careful to avoid those, he fluffs a free spot, making a nice little clearing for himself. Shuffling around a little more he makes a little nest for his meager belongings and then nods to himself, satisfied with his work.

Rosco spends the next few hours working alongside the old man. Rowen didn’t seem to say much, but he didn’t seem to mind Rosco did either, which was a blessing for both of them. It was easy to stay on task in the new environment and with someone so pleasant to work alongside. Plus, any time his mind did start to stray, Rowen gently nudged him back in the right direction, never once getting frustrated with him.

Rowen was the stable master here, not the owner’s husband like Rosco had originally thought. The old man had worked here from before the owners took over from their father. He had started as a boy, working to help support his family. Long since, all his younger sisters had gone and married, but Rowen never left. Never meeting a girl that caught his fancy and settled down to make a family of his own. His life was simple, he told Rosco in one of his few bouts of chattiness, and he worked hard, but he was content. It occurred to Rosco this was almost the sort of life Lolly had wanted for him. Nothing fancy, just honest work, food and a bed. Rosco could easily see why, Rowen was happy and secure. He goes silent, racked with guilt and gratitude. Lolly had never had much time for him, but she really did care what would happen to him. He hated that he would inevitably let her down.

Trapped as he was now in his own head, the hours passed easily. When Rowen laid a hand on his shoulder telling him it was time to wash up, he was actually quite startled to find the work all done. Rowen told him were to wash and that he’d be fed in the kitchen before disappearing into his own little apartment built into the stable. 

Rosco had cleaned himself up and was halfway to the kitchens to eat when it finally dawned on him.

He’d forgotten about Hayden.