To be a farmer was a simple life, but a fulfilling one.

In a world where every day was a gift, Oscar Pines found himself, if not entirely content than at least happy with his lot. The wilds of Remnant were dangerous after all for a reason, though lately from the news filtered through a neighbors old television set perhaps 'crazy' might be a better one. Even now, talk of the Vytal Festival was a subject often wagged about by his elders, all discussing whether or not the images played during the broadcast were real or not. As Oscar walked into the village trading post with his list of errands in hand, like clockwork it was being discussed once more as sitting around an old wood fire stove were the local gossips.

"I'm telling you, it was real. No faking that sort of horror." Colin Truffle, the local stonemason spoke with the quiet confidence of someone who had the patience to carve day after day in solid rock and his words had weight in these parts. Oscar, despite himself found himself listening as he pretended to peruse bags of seeds as Colin's younger brother scoffed aloud.

Dun Truffle, the baker drained his mug with relish, enjoying the beer he brewed on the side before he scoffed with a snort once more as if it added to his words. "Devils? Dragons? Wizards? Maiden alive brother, you always had rocks for brain. Every-thang in this world can be explained by scien-tee-fic fact! Look at Atlas? Next yer gonna tell me them floating city is done by magic!" He nodded as if he had delivered a checkmate, leaning back as he indulged in his victory once more with another drink and the third brother spoke up.

Posey Truffle, a carpenter who looked troubled as he remarked. "If it's a prank, it's in poor taste, ye gotta admit. Plus, ain't just from Vale that weird news is coming forth. That one traveler-"

Dun laughed in his face. "That old looney? Now I'm sorry, but anyone who goes looking for news from crazy, isolated old ladies ain't gonna be wanting for moonshine. Now, if you'll excuse me! Some of us gotta live in the real world. To your health!" He finished his drink, left the mug behind and the other brothers nodded as they went to their drinks.

Oscar was left with more questions than answers as he approached the storekeeper and paid for his purchases. The owner of the trading post nodded, smiling briefly as he spoke.

"Interested in that sort of thing, young Oscar?" Oscar blinked, a half-step behind the conversation as the storekeeper said more gently. "Dragons and such. Fantasy." A skinny Giraffe faunus, his ears flicked once as he peered over half-moon spectacles towards his customer as he waited patiently.

Faced with the direct question, Oscar looked to the ground, torn openly before he finally admitted. "I'd like to believe it. But I have to help on the farm and mom's needing much more help. Since we lost a worker, it's been tough. I don't have much time for that sort of thing when I have work before me."

The storekeeper nodded, understanding. Life was hard out here in the frontier, but ultimately rewarding. It was why they stuck it out, despite bandits, despite problems and the omnipresent presence of the Grimm. As he rung up the purchases, he said suddenly.

"Say lad, why don't you visit the inn along the way? Might be, a few lazy hands could be looking for work." It was certainly a common enough practice for a place this small and Oscar thought before nodding. "Well... We do have a little saved up..."

And they had plenty of room too, specifically for situations like this. He nodded, scooped up his seed packets and smiled. "Thank you sir." As he counted his money, he blinked. "Oh, sir?" The storekeeper turned partway as Oscar handed over some of his lien.

"You gave me too much sir."

The storekeeper blinked and then looked chagrined. "Ah, so I did. You're a good, honest lad Oscar Pines. You're a credit to your mother and the village." Oscar blushed, gave a nod of farewell and swiftly fled. Outside, his gait slowed down as he took a deep breath and looked about the village.

It was a place his mother had come to, before he was born. A sanctuary, where the people had been kind and friendly, a farmer putting her up in his home and even marrying her in time though he died to a Grimm attack as was depressingly normal. Still, it was the only home he'd ever known and he smiled slightly as he strode along the main road, shops and other buildings lined on the sides as various tradesman worked.

Children played on the streets, someone was playing a flute and overall, he felt he could just soak in the peaceful day with a smile as he felt himself relax further.

Workers at the inn, hmm? Well... He did have time.

Adjusting his pace, Oscar continued on till he arrived at the only inn in town, known by the wooden sign of a beowulf head dangling above the door, as well as the worn, wooden statue of a hooded woman in a pose of prayer as absently, Oscar rubbed her hand-worn smooth by generations who had done the same, for luck before he entered the inn.

It was surprisingly busy today, in no small part due to the new entertainment. An outsider was here, playing a bamboo flute with surprising skill, though in the past they had played host to more than one sort of bardic entertainer.

What made this one unique was the act that came with it.

Seated upon his shoulders, his head, seemingly every part of him were the most beautiful canaries he'd ever seen, not that he'd seen much in person. Their song warbled and mingled with the flute, adding onto it in perfect harmony as more than a few people clapped along. Oscar found himself coming closer, making a brief apology to an old woman with cybernetic eyes as he looked on.

The outsider was an old looking man, Mistral by the looks of it. Dressed in the old ways too, and perfectly content as he suddenly opened his eyes. Oscar froze.

The eyes for a moment seemed intense, deeply colorful, like a kaleidoscope he had once looked into as a curiosity. Like staring into the infinite, and knowing it was looking back at you. He couldn't breath, his heart began to pound as the music wove and seemed to sink into his skin, the spell one neither of them wanted to break.

Who are you? Oscar thought to himself, he had to know more.

And then the doors burst open, as everyone seemed to jump as the following person entered.

A grumpy looking Huntsman-in-training from the looks of it. Silver haired, long and growing now into a ponytail kept back with a leather thong. Bangs across his eyes did little to obscure the annoyed scowl on his face, and the distaste as he carried over his shoulder with as much effort as Oscar was carrying his seed bags, a giant boar as he huffed and set it on a nearby table before he spoke aloud.

"There! I got it! You happy old man?!"

Oscar was scandalized, more so as the musician ended his performance and began to laugh. The canaries flew away, up to the rafters as he approached and beamed upward to the huntsman, about little more than a bit above his waist. Looking at the boar, he grinned and spoke earnestly.

"Very much so. This bounty will be well-shared with everyone. Well done."

To Oscar's astonishment, the boy scoffed and glanced away-a small tint of red on his face at the looks around him as he spoke gruffly. "... Its just a pig. Can't do shit...akie mushroom about it."

The innkeeper laughed, moving around his counter as he clapped a hand on the huntsman's back, which he wasn't expecting as he cried out. "I can! It will be my honor to butcher and prepare this for you and your nephew, Mister Fizban."

Fizban bowed back, regal as if he was in a royal court as he spoke sincerely. "Your acceptance of our service and circumstances compels me to thank you! Not many would be so understanding of our plight." The innkeeper snorted.

"Maybe in the city they'll toss you into the streets. Here in the wild, we take care of folks."

Oscar, compelled by an odd feeling approached the table timidly, as the Huntsman and Fizban sat and spoke to each other.

"-these people are so disgustingly cheerful, it's sickening."

"Does human interaction truly give you offense? You are one of them after all, young Mercury."

Mercury snorted. "You can find a thousand of them, and the graves of ten thousand more. Life is full of suckers, I don't intend to be any of them."

Fizban merely smiled, a canary landing on his shoulder and chirping as he said simply. "And yet, you go out of your way to help. We needed only some small game, you went for a prey that would feed many. Through your services, many shall be all the happier for it and you are to blame for it."

Mercury snorted. "Maybe I just wanted to kill something worth my time. Besides, that's not the issue here. We are broke and I doubt the more major civilized places are going to accept porcine currency. What are we even doing here?"

Fizban smiled again, leaning back as he spoke sagely. "When the student is ready, the lesson will appear."

"Not your damn student old man." Mercury said, but to Oscar it had the weary tone of repetition. He scowled and added. "We're lost in the boonies, we're down to playing music in taverns like hobos and we need money. It's not like it's just going to drop into our laps because of karma." Oscar cleared his throat.

"Um, excuse me?"

Both turned to look at him, Mercury raising an eyebrow as he looked him over. Oscar stared... They seemed nice enough. Plus, one of them at least was Huntsman trained and he stood straighter, looking at them both to Mercury's amusement and Fizban's casual interest as Oscar spoke.

"You said something about being broke? We're looking for workers and we provide room and board into the bargain, so..." His voice trailed off under their combined scrutiny.

Mercury stared and then turned to Fizban, pointing a finger his direction. "This means nothing."

Fizban laughed openly.

AN: Guess what has two thumbs and a new laptop.

This guy!