All he needed was time.

***Boots***

"You spoke with her didn't you? With Fenix?!"

"How-

"I saw exactly the same thing happen to my brother. Many, many years ago mind you."

Boots was unsure how to respond to this.

"Is it normal to be able to speak to her?"

"WHAT?!" Gerald snapped, "Are you a fool! Of course it's not bloody normal! Now put some clothes on and tell me what she said to you!"

"Oh, ah, my apologies." Boots said awkwardly, reaching down and collecting his clothes, "Excuse me for a moment."

Boots set about getting dressed. After a sort while he regaled Gerald of what Fenix had told him. He left out the details relating to his reincarnation. Of course, he did not want to go down that rabbit hole.

"Interesting," Gerald said as he took a seat on one of the pews, "Boots, All of my previous doubts about you have been wiped clear. You are a Prophet of our Goddess. We simply must follow you!"

"I appreciate the sentiment, but it is not as simple as that. We still have to win. She will not directly guarantee our victory. That is for us to achieve ourselves."

Gerald nodded his understanding, thumbing his paw, "did she… did she mention my brother at all?"

"She did not," Boots replied, puzzled, "What happened to your brother?"

"Oh, it…it doesn't matter, forget I said anything." Gerald trailed off, rising to his feet, "Come on, lets go have a look at that meeting hall then."

***Roman***

Roman had been busing himself with keeping all the guard rotations working smoothly. They were in unprecedented times, but he threw himself at his work.

He had become almost like a second in command. Dealing with all the niff-naff and trivia that went under Boots's nose. He was keeping everything under control so Boots could focus on keeping the strategies and schemes rolling out.

He moved through the makeshift camp in the centre of town. There was much hustle and bustle. Roman had organised a clean up operation that was progressing nicely.

Old bits and pieces of damaged furniture were being deposited in the square. There were lines of people filing in and out of the town hall.

Roman was quietly amazed at how well they had adjusted to the situation. There was almost no arguing, previous rivalries and disagreements had been forgotten. All in the face of a crisis.

It was amazing what could be accomplished when people set aside their differences.

Morale was high, people found comfort in purpose and the clean up of the town was serving that purpose. There was plenty of idle chit-chat to be heard, there was even a new nickname for Boots floating around, that Roman was hearing more and more frequently around the town.

'Boots, the Hammer of Fenniton.'

It had a nice ring to it, most people just shortened it to 'Boots the Hammer'. Roman smiled to himself. It was quite a fitting title.

As he was walking through the camp, he caught sight of his sister. Fiona noticed him and gave him a wave before coming over.

"Hey! How goes it." She asked with a smile.

"Things are moving along nicely; I'm looking forward to the meeting. Who knows what he'll think up next."

"You mean Boots?" Fiona said with a hint of surprise, before admitting "I have no idea how that man's mind works."

"Yes," Roman considered for a moment, "perhaps he received some kind of formal training?"

"I doubt that." Fiona said immediately, "But anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something, Mum and Dad are still out at the farm Ro, we need to go get them!"

Roman scratched the back of his head, "True, they are out in the sticks, but I honestly don't know where would be safer. They could definitely do with a warning, at least."

"So?" Fiona said with a hopeful look.

"I will bring it up at the meeting, no doubt there are other families on the fringes as well."

"Roman, they are our parents. We need to go get them!"

"We can't just act on our own Fiona. We need to think about the bigger picture for now. We have time to get them if we need to, but we can't just abandon our duties here." Roman said sympathetically.

"Fine." Fiona pouted.

***Oswald***

Oswald was busing himself in the library of the town hall. There were many books and tomes lining the dusty shelves. One in particular caught his eye.

'The races and peoples of Arca – Wanderer's Edition'

"Fascinating!" Oswald muttered to himself. Reaching for the book without thinking.

He ran his hand along the cover, feeling the pits and cracks of the leather. Ever since learning to read at the Tower of Radiance, he'd had an almost obsessive need to learn. He simply loved books.

Poetry, history, geography, stories and novels. Anything he could get his hands on. It was all knowledge he had no idea existed. Learning to read opened his eyes to what felt like a whole universe of information.

He absentmindedly flipped through the pages.

There were even illustrations!

As he sat down on the floor to begin his study. Something caught in his pocket.

Oswald rummaged around for the source of the discomfort.

It was that damn trinket again. He'd forgot he had it.

He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to do with it. It was just a silly thing that made noise when you shook it.

Was he supposed to give it to someone?

Oswald ruffled his hair in frustration.

That stupid prophecy left too much unclear. Was he even supposed to meet Boots and Fiona at that junction?

Surely the prophecy might have mentioned he'd be in for the longest day of his life!

But if he was in the right place, as he suspected he was, then that just left the trinket to deal with.

'Curse that Lucia and her misleading prophecies!' Oswald thought clenching his fist. If it wasn't for the trinket he could consider his job done and head home.

But he had to admit, it was never boring following Boots around. He'd have to go home at some point though, he had a lot of studying to do. He'd tried to bring a Dark Magic tome with him, that got him in a bit of trouble with the librarian though.

'Curse that librarian and his meddling' Oswald shook his fist at the ceiling menacingly.

How he'd love to punch that librarian.

Oswald shook his head to clear his mind. There was reading to be done!

He'd be damned before he wasted his break scrutinising the past!

He flicked to a random point in the book and looked at the image before him. It was of a Snow Fen, a felinian like species thought to have died out during the 'Great War of the Dragons'.

Their original homeland is not known, but they were thought to have populated most mountainous regions in the past. Including the Gemlock mountains, which weren't too far from here.

They had a snowy white coat with black speckles, coupled with a pair of ferocious fangs. They looked very intimidating indeed!

Oswald sighed, he always felt a tremendous sense of loss when he heard something had become extinct or had otherwise vanished from the world.

He felt like he was missing out. The Snow Fen's were gone, he'd never meet one and ask it what it liked for breakfast. He'd never see one of their villages, take part in a festival.

What a terrible shame.

***Garv***

The small trio lingered in the ruins of Bandlehurst for some time. Trying to come up with a plan of action.

"We could always try checking out the town?" Garv offered.

"No, it's too risky, they will of definitely left somebody watching what's left of it. I just don't know how they turned it around so fast." Magar said scratching his head.

"Hmm," Garv mumbled, "Well maybe we could head over to Foxville, over the bridge?"

"The fishing village to the north-west of the town?" Magar considered briefly before shaking his head, "No, it's still too dangerous, the only road takes you right past the northern gate.

"Why don't we… follow the baddies?" Cassandra offered with a hopeful look on her face.

Garv chuckled, "That's a very good idea! But the bad guys might turn around an-"

"No wait," Magar interjected, "She might have a point, we've given them a decent head start, as long as we take our time, we can stay well behind them. There are plenty of villages and towns we can stop off in, it's the main road after all."

"Then you guys can kill them all!" an overjoyed Cassandra said, raising her rebellious little fist in the air as she did so.

There was a brief stunned silence.

"Ah, maybe… not all of them." Garv said with a forced smile.

"Oi goldilocks," Cassandra said moving in close to Garv's face, "I said. All. Of. Them."

Garv gulped at the menacing pair of blue eyes staring into his soul.

Is this little girl a demon!?

"We, ah, will do our best but there are quite a few of them. That would take some time." Magar said reasonably trying to appease the demon's bloodlust.

'Humph!' She pouted and sat back down, "I don't care, as long as we get them in the end."

Garv and Magar watched the grumpy little girl pouting with her arms crossed in stupefied silence. She had certainly come out of her shell.

Magar stood snickering in the corner, "Goldilocks…" he snorted.

Garv pulled an ear round to eye level, looking at his golden fur, "I suppose I am..."

Magar burst out laughing, much to the confusion of Garv at first. But he eventually chuckled along at his friend's raucous outburst.

They stayed in the hut for a while longer, just to be sure of the Crusaders withdrawal. Before heading back out onto the path.

It was early afternoon and pleasantly sunny.

Garv picked up Cassandra and placed her on his shoulders. They turned for one last look at the town in the distance.

Who knows if they would see it again?

But this was not the place to linger. Garv turned back towards the main road.

It was time to get underway.

***Boots***

Boots sat in the meeting hall, looking over a large map he'd requested. It was much more detailed than the map he'd liberated from the snatchers and outlined the whole continent. Boots was looking for potential allies.

There were many to choose form, but he didn't have the political knowledge to know right off the bat if someone could, or even would, help him.

Boots furrowed his brows and rubbed his temples, the people moving furniture around and tidying up the place was quite distracting.

The meeting room contained a large oval table and plenty of seats. The walls were decorated with wooden inlays and there was a soft green carpet across the floor. The room dripped with bureaucracy and there was a strong smell of paper and ink.

Boots set the map aside and procrastinated for a while. Fiddling with a quill.

He really needed to learn how to read. Relying on others for such a simple task just would not do. It was unbefitting for a ruler.

Not that he was one, yet.

"Hmm" Boots considered.

But what if he were a ruler?

What if he could get recognised as an independent state?

Was he thinking too far ahead?

He would need to form military alliances to defend himself in that case. He would also need to bring something to the table.

An export maybe?

Boots slapped the quill down in frustration, he still didn't know enough. He would first have to unify as many people as he could under his banner.

The tyranny of oppression had done all the work for him. People must be willing to take any escape to King Pino's rule. He could definitely use that.

Then with enough people a full-scale rebellion could be born, he could turn towns one at a time and then try to declare independence.

If he could secure enough resources, he could probably set up trade with other nations. That would open the door for alliances.

All he needed was time.