"Hoi, there!" I try out the way the locals greet each other from a distance.

  Cedric looks over at me from where he's inspecting some snails on the fence post surrounding his family's farm. He's wearing his usual pants and his necklace, as well as his rancher hat. It's a straw-woven cowboy hat with some small holes around the crown to provide ventilation. One of these days, I might see about having one made for me.

  They seem pretty useful when out in the sun all day and most of the locals wear them, especially when working their farms and ranches.

  Something I'm fairly certain he's supposed to be doing right now. There are a dozen or so sheep grazing an area that's not fenced in at the moment. I can understand his distraction, though. The kid loves things like snails and plenty of them are visible due to the rain from last night. He probably started looking at them while eating his lunch and then forgot about the sheep.

  According to Dylan, the locals don't usually use a fenced-in area for their livestock apart from where they're kept at night. During the day, they're usually allowed to roam a bit as the herders will ensure they don't go too far.

  Most of the time. They do still need eyes on them, though I'm sure Cedric would manage to wrangle any that escape.

  Just as soon as he realizes one did.

  "Hoi," Cedric greets me. "What brings ya out here?"

  "You know one of your sheep escaped, don't you?"

  "What?" He looks towards the herd and starts counting under his breath. "Eleven, twelve… wait. Twelve? Argh! Where's Stamriik?"

  "Over there," I point at another hill, where a lone sheep is grazing.

  "AAAH! STAMRIIK! COME BACK HERE!"

  Cedric runs after the sheep, and I chuckle as I watch the kid go. One of the three herders helping on the ranch helps him chase down and guide the sheep back over to the others. I suppose the dogs don't bother too much if it's just one sheep.

  That, or they tried but gave up.

  "And don't run off again," Cedric tells the sheep once they've returned. "It's safe right now, but ya never know when a scary monster might come and eat ya! Then we won't get to eat ya!"

  "I don't think she wants to get eaten," I tell him.

  "She ain't really got a choice in that," he shrugs. "Besides, it ain't as if she can understand me. Wait, you're still here? Did ya need me for something?"

  "Your parents," I dip my head towards a small barn. "Is that where they clean the wool and turn it to thread and cloth?"

  "Ma's in there now," he nods. "Da's helpin' Thomas with somethin'."

  "Alright," I say. "By the way, your sheep's trying to escape again."

  "Huh?" He looks over. "Stamriik! Stay!"

  As Cedric hurries over to the runaway sheep, I head over to the barn, where Samantha is currently cleaning some tools. It won't be shearing season again for a little bit, so she doesn't have more wool to spin or cloth to weave right now. That doesn't mean she doesn't have other things to do, of course, such as working on the other part of the farm with her husband and son, as well as raising and caring for the sheep. The tools she's cleaning look like they're probably used on the farm.

  "Hello," I say from the entrance of the barn, and Samantha looks over at me.

  "Rowan," she responds, uncertainty in her mind.

  "I want to ask a favor from you," I tell her. "But before I do, I had some questions. Whether or not I ask the favor depends on the honesty of the answers – I know you don't fully trust me, even if you're allowing Cedric to take lessons with me. It's obvious you're only comfortable with it because Thomas is there."

  There's mild surprise on her mind and in her expression.

  "So I know you might be inclined to lie as well," I tell her. "And I'm pretty good at telling when people are lying, something I picked up in the seven years of adventuring I did."

  She feels a little uncomfortable now. Crap. I'm slipping back into old habits, aren't I? My expression is probably rather terrifying to her, so I do my best to soften it. When I do, I detect a small bit of concern mixed in with a slight amount of relaxing.

  "Four families moved during the harvest festival," I tell her. "A total of eleven people, bringing the population of the region down to only thirty-eight, and that's if including myself and the other magi."

  The families included the couple who had a very young kid, a couple and the parents of the wife, and two other couples.

  "The only other kid around for Cedric to play with is Patrick," I continue. "Not exactly the peak of social life for a farmer's kid. In most farming families, there are usually multiple kids per family, meaning there's usually a bunch of children around, but all of you have essentially given up on having descendants. That's contributed to the current state of things."

  I hold up a hand to stop whatever it is she's about to say.

  "Not criticizing," I tell her. "Just stating my own observations. It's understandable someone would be reluctant to have children in an area where there aren't others. They'll shrink down their farms to support just them, and if they do have a child, well, they can expand it a little bit to account for that. Villages die, and it's not always a bad thing.

  "As a parent," I say. "I'm sure you want more for the son you do have. A life where he can have more friends, and maybe better odds of finding someone when he's older."

  "You want to know if we're considerin' leaving, too, ain't ya?"

  "Yes."

  She sighs, resignation and mild sadness in her mind now.

  "Yes," she answers. "Elias and I have discussed it, and we're thinking of heading out once summer ends. Patrick's a good kid and all, but Cedric does need others his age. It'll help him stay out of trouble, and we won't have to worry 'bout the wolves and other monsters."

  Just as I expected. Before I say what I wanted to next, a vision flashes through my mind.

  Of Cedric in his mid teens, dressed in just a pair of pants as he sits on a hill to watch a large herd of normal sheep. The only reason I can tell it's him and not some random teen is his necklace – it's the one he's wearing now, made of beads crafted from the shells of various insects. Its current size is a little bit big on him, but it fits him well in his mostly-grown form. Just enough slack now to not be tight when he's older.

  At that point in his life, half of his eyes have turned green, the spikes quite prominent. Even after leaving here, he keeps up his magic training.

  Sorrow fills his face as he brings a clay ocarina to his lips. The tune he plays is simple and touched with his sadness. A couple of low-rank spirits appear around him by the end of the song and linger for a few moments after, but that's all.

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  He lets out a sigh as he lowers his hands and ocarina to his lap, then looks at one of the nearby sheep, which stopped grazing to look at him.

  Hearing confirmation of his parents' plans triggered [Foresight]. That was definitely a natural one and not one the gods gave me – I can tell the difference when that happens. If they move away from here, the kid's going to be depressed by fifteen because he wants to be here.

  Since they want to move for his sake – I can feel her sincerity on it being for him – I can probably nudge them in a different direction. Cedric might like looking for insects and stuff here, but he also likes the spirits.

  "Alright," I tell her. "I wanted to ask your help with something. Yesterday, I went into the Mistwood and found some magic sheep. I sheared them-" amusement enters her mind, probably from thinking that I don't know how to shear. "-and while I could process it myself, even with magic, it takes a fair bit of time. Spinning and weaving can only be sped up so much.

  "So I was wondering if you'd be willing to handle that for me," I tell her. "Cleaning it, spinning it, and making threads and bolts for me. I want to be able to make full clothes with them, including pants, tunics, and coats, but also things like robes, gloves, caps, and such."

  "From the Mistwood?" She scoffs. "I ain't got the tools for processing that, their wool's too tough for someone of my strength."

  "Physical might isn't everything," I tell her. "I've acquired orichalcum from the mines, and it can be sharpened to quite an edge that holds. Even if someone doesn't have a high enough Strength, they can manage certain tasks with the right tools. I've made everything you'll need orichalcum for."

  Samantha thinks this over, a small bit of curiosity mixed into her suspicion.

  "From what I understand," she says. "You ain't one to offer things free, nor ask things for free."

  "Indeed," I say. "Fair trades are performed. While the job itself is considered a low-cost one by some, since you didn't have to raise these sheep or shear them yourself, the quality of the wool factors in. I was planning on offering you something more permanent for your home, but since you're planning on moving in a few months, that would become unimportant and without value then."

  That's the actual reasons why I wanted to ask about their plans, if they were planning on moving or not. Nudging things to convince them to stay here is because of the vision, and that's a more long-term plan than an instant one.

  "That was one part of it, at least," I tell her. "The other part is some soaps – a higher-quality of them than you likely make on your own. They're ones which will allow you to clean wool much more effectively and allow you to harvest the lanolin without ruining it. Magic's involved, of course, but it's all in the soap. I've got some for you to use with my wool, and additional for you to use for your own. There's additional soap as well, for you to use for cleaning your clothes, dishes, and selves. It's gentler than the local varieties and even most of what can be found in Tempest Oak, at least on your skin. No bad scent, just a little bit of a floral one."

  Making the soap is part of why I came after lunch rather than this morning, in addition to making the other items I'll let her use to process the wool. Magic made the process easy, though I did make both normal soap and soap using slime goo.

  "In addition to that," I continue. "I'll let you keep some of the cloth for your own use, in addition to allowing you to borrow orichalcum needles and scissors when you want to make something from them."

  I let her think about that for a few moments before adding in the rest.

  "Since the offer for a more permanent thing for you won't work as you're leaving," I say. "I'm also willing to offer you some of the lanolin. I do want that kept – I have barrels for you to store the wash water in after each wash and rinse, and I can extract the lanolin using magic. It'll be purer if I do it. I know it's used for things like making a leather treatment or giving wool clothes a waterproof coating and for treating dry skin or cuts a kid might have. In cities, it also has use in some beauty products. Lip balm among nobles, a coating given to make their lips more glossy."

  "The wool you have," she says. "It's magic, ain't it? Would the lanolin be, too?"

  "Yes," I answer. "And that raises its price a decent amount, especially considering how strong the sheep were. The lanolin from one of the less-expensive fleeces I have can be sold for more than what the typical resident of Tempest Oak makes in a decade. That's from one of the fleeces, and one of the less-expensive ones at that."

  I look over to where Cedric's currently chasing one of his family's herders, playing more than working. None of the sheep have escaped or are attempting to, so he probably won't get into trouble for that. The kid really likes it out here.

  "And I'd let you keep some from each variant," I look at Samantha. "Enough that as long as you manage the spending well, you'd have more than enough for you and your husband to retire, and even for Patrick to live off of until he's old. If you reinvest it into a new sheep ranch wherever you move, your family would be set for generations. Cedric would have no issues making friends."

  Judging by the feel of her mind, she's ready to accept my trade offer. Stating that she can ensure her family's future, as well as make it easier for Cedric to make friends, was all that's needed.

  "Also," I add. "Cedric's asked me a few times about teaching him how to play the ocarina, a type of instrument you blow into. I'm sure you know that with a guitar, you can't just learn it in a sitting. It takes time, effort, and practice. The same goes for any instrument, really. That's the main reason I've been declining so far. That, and I'd need to make an ocarina just for him – you do put your mouth on it to play, after all."

  That's not a lie, he really has been asking me about teaching him to play them. I was planning on waiting until winter to ask his parents about letting him learn. We both have other things to do beside the classes I'm already teaching him and the others. Adding on more to that just takes more time away from other things.

  But if I invest two or three months into teaching him how to play the ocarina now, then he might convince his parents to not move. That would change the outcome of the vision I had, and all I have to do is agree to teach him sooner than I'd planned. If I'm right, that will result in a happier Cedric once he's older.

  It's entirely possible that staying here would make him depressed as well, but it doesn't hurt to try and change things. He can always move after learning more about spirits – and figuring out the best place to move to.

  "If you work the wool for me," I tell her. "I'll give him an hour of lessons twice a week, after the other lessons. Up until either you move or he decides to stop, and I'll make him an ocarina of his own as well."

  She sighs at this last part and looks in the direction where Cedric and the sheep are, even if she can't see them due to the barn.

  "He's been begging us to try and buy him an ocarina," she tells me. "Said we should have enough money leftover from the festival for it, if Thomas can find a cheap one next time he and Chief head into town."

  "Unlikely," I shake my head. "Ocarinas aren't a well-used instrument, they're mainly used by people with a blessing from the spirits. The nearest person I know of who knows how to make them other than myself lives almost two hundred and thirty miles away. The price is pretty high."

  "Alright," she says. "I'll accept your offer for my work. I take it you've got the stuff stored in your bracelet? Thomas borrowed one from you for the docks."

  "Yeah," I hold out my right hand as five bracelets appear in it. "They're actually in five bracelets, as I encountered five distinct types of magic sheep during my trip yesterday. I'll expect them back once everything is ready, you can just have Cedric bring them to me when he comes for lessons. Each bracelet has all of the fleeces from that one, the soaps for them, the barrels and bins, the tools, and everything else you need. I do ask that everything is kept in their separate parts – especially the water/lanolin. Separating them gets tricky."

  She hmphs a little as she accepts the bracelets, and I teach her how to use them. It takes a lot of effort to not have a small smile on my face when she pulls one of the fleeces out. She wants to see my job and I know I did a good one.

  That effort intensifies upon seeing the shock on her face and feeling it in her mind upon seeing the pale grey fleece. It's not done exactly the same as a professional would, but it's my adaptation of how I was taught to shear sheep.

  Using magic rather than shears changes things a little and the job is still good.

  "My ex-boyfriend is a sheep rancher," I tell her. "He taught me about shearing sheep. Anyway, there were quite a lot of sheep and I acquired a decent amount of wool from each of the five varieties. That one is simple air sheep wool and as you'll note, it's lighter than ordinary wool. The brown wool comes from earth sheep, and it holds earth magic properties. It's a bit firmer than normal wool while still being soft, which makes it great as an outer part for mattresses. Then there's wool that has a natural variation in the greys of it, giving it a cloud-like look. That's from a cloud sheep and is even lighter and softer than the air wool you're holding.

  "There's also a more yellow wool," I continue. "And it has a faint glow to it. That's from light sheep, or sheep with light magics to them. Its grease water will have the glow as well – light sheep lanolin glows. The same goes for the sun sheep, whose wool is golden in color and warm to the touch."

  Samantha asks me about all of my intended uses for the wool, probably so she knows how to process it and in what quantities for each type. Once that's done, we both exit the barn and spot Cedric chasing after a runaway sheep while the others watch.

  If Cedric convinces them to stay once he's learned the ocarina a little, I might offer to help them with getting a fence installed. Not having a fence for their livestock just seems weird to me, and I'm not entirely sure why they don't. It's probably a remnant from a time when families were bigger and everyone had more eyes to keep on the animals.

  "That looks like fun," I say. "Well, I'll see you around, Samantha. Have a good rest of your day, and may the gods and spirits guide your paths."