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WELCOME TO THE FESTIVAL OF BLESSINGS
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The sun hangs high in the sky -- it must be around midday, it shan't be long until the festival officially begins. You're arriving in a small horse drawn carriage, wooden and rickety, with a frail man atop the horse ahead of you with frayed grey hair and a red neckerchief. You bought tickets from some anonymous vender, not out of the ordinary for an event of this size, but with the amount of silver you paid him, you expected a little more... luxury? Nonetheless, you were certain it'd be worth it, the festivals got so much better every year.

The horse trots ahead with its hoofs leaving kisses in the thick green grass as it approaches the stone village ahead, admiring the way the sunlight paints the tall cathedrals in glossy bright white. You're expecting to see colourful felt bunting strung across the buildings and crowds of people flooding in and out of the markets, but for now, you're sat cramped in a small wooden basket on wheels, surrounded by people you can only describe as strange looking. You shuffle closer to yourself, taking a deep breath. It can't be much longer till you'll be there.

---

You can hear the old man chuckle to himself as he takes a good look ar road ahead before turning to face the little band of misfits that are tightly packed into his little wagon, a surprisingly loud voice being heard as he opened mouth
"Oi lads, some of y'all are fresh meat ain't ye? First festival and all? Hahaha, the first one sticks with ye forever, I tell you that much! You would be surprised with the amount of growing that takes place when fighting monsters with friends."
He turns back towards the road ahead and begins chuckling to himself again, clearly having the time of escorting young folks to what could very well be the adventure of a life.
"We got some time to spare, any of ye wanna take this chance to start networking or whatever yall refer to assembling a group as nowdays? Wouldn't want to be caught alone out there and all!"

---

One would assume the excruciating pain Oceiros' wallet went through to acquire a ticket, it would also guarantee a comfortable ride to the festival. Not only was the carriage at the brink of collapse, he himself could barely fit inside.At least the driver was hearty. Oceiros was constantly hunched over for the entire duration of the trip but that didn't stop him from smiling ear to ear, eagerly waiting for his moment to shine.

Having a few glances around, it was clear very few shared his enthusiasm. "Don't fret, lad!" he playfully nudged anyone he saw being troubled. "This is THE adventure of a lifetime! No such adventure starts with a wagon made of gold to get you to where you need." he added, taking another look at the poor state of the wagon. The creaking panks, which most of them were missing nails, the foul quality of the poor excuse for curtains that were the dangling, slightly ripped pieces of cloth. Even such minute details would forever be a fond memory for Oceiros.

Alice hugs his suitcase closer to his chest. This was all the luggage that he brought with him on this long journey. The carriage was much more dingy and cramped than he had initially thought.

'So much for a festival to celebrate the gods.'

Alice sighed with exasperation. Thankfully, having a job at a church gave him a hefty salary. So the price of the ticket wasn't too bad for his wallet as a homeless.

After all, he had long stopped believing in such beings, and yet every single time, he he stretched his ears for news of each festival with the same amount of expectations as the last. You'd think at the festival went on, and as the gods gain more and more supporters, the quality of their transportation would get better. Yet for each passenger, it was all the same.

Moreover...

He looks at broken wood board on the floor awkwardly making a small window on the bottom of the carriage, before looking away and scratching his cheek, sweat dropping.

There was no way they were reusing the same carriage every year are they?

Actually the more he thought about it the closer he felt that it was plausible....

Maybe he should stop thinking before he commits blasphemy.

He turns to their coach for the ride. It was a skinny old ginger man who carried a thick countryside accent. It seems like it wasn't his first time taking travelers to the festival. Who knows how long this man has been in the business. Since they were responsible for taking travelers to a festival to celebrate their gods, the salary definitely isn't low right? Perhaps he should pick up this job once he wants to retire, afterall it's only once a year!

"How could you tell it was our first time? Did something give us dead away coach?" Alice gave the old man a questioning smile. "Say, mind giving us 'fresh meats' some tips? It would do us folks great justice you know!" He teased.

---

The green skinned person shifted a little, for the first time since he'd taken a seat. There expression had remained so very empty looking for the duration of the trip, not even fidgeting as the cart bounced along the grassy, or stoney roads. It was the very definition of, "is anybody home?" Nonetheless, it wasn't surprising at all. Green skin? And even half of its face was discoloured and just looked... off. Even with the world having so many weird and wonderful creatures, this one stood out as being especially odd. From the way they acted, to how they looked, the words that came to mind would only be good if you were almost as bizarre yourself.

But his reaction was surprisingly snappy. Beige raised their head, their weirdly shiny hair bouncing at the force of their sudden movement. "Not my first festival. The mister is lying." Its voice was incredibly blunt, but not quite aggressive or accusatory in any way. His green hands remained in his lap as he held his gaze on the back of Chester's head, its mouth formed in an upside down 'V' shape.

---

Chester chuckles at Beige's statement "Of course not lad! You know I didn't mean to include you as well, I would never forget lil' green man here, Haha!"
He gives a little thumbs up to Beige before returning his attention to Alice "To answer your question Blondie ,I have a really good memory and I don't quite think ive seen most of ye before! Either way most people who end up being sent my way tend to be newer to the whole thing, probably because whoever is organising the whole transport part of these festivals knows my wagon is the exact luxury to get you pumped for the action! Paired with some good tips, you will never find a learning experience quite like ride from me!"
The ginger man laughed, grabbing a bottle he had placed near him and chugging a good portion of it down, taking a nice and refreshed sigh afterwards.
"Anyways like the other kid said, this is THE adventure of a lifetime and even if its not, I'm sure the next one will be. My biggest tip is to make sure that even if you don't attain the favour of the gods, you can atleast go home feeling satisfied and ready to trt again next time. Make the journey worth the time lad, even if you don't get what you are looking for!"

---

Liza sat quietly, so not to draw attention to herself. She held her beloved katana close to her, the last thing she could remember of her life before heading to the festival with a bunch of strangers of all different backgrounds. 'This better be good', she thought to herself. 'or else I'm just wasting my social battery over nothing.' Not that she really had anything to lose anyway. Her family hadn't grown up with much, but regardless, they were happy. The memories brought tears to her eyes and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She fiddled with the cuff on her wrist to distract herself.

It had been quite a rough ride thus far, and she hadn't slept much the night before. Not to mention some of the passengers were talking and bantering with eachother, although most were quiet, which was nice. The tickets may have cost a lot of money, but that didn't mean she was going to run up to each stall excitedly or in a rush. No, instead she would attempt to take things slowly... although most of the time that never worked out as she would impulsively buy whatever caught her eye.

She sighed, defeated, and rested her chin in her hand, staring down at her boots. She would just have to let things play out, even though it had rarely worked out in her favour beforehand.

---

Alice, seeing the bottle that was being jugged down by the driver, inched his hand towards his inner cloak pocket where it held his personal bottle of alcohol he had prepared for the festival. He was going to save it up for tonight, but seeing the old man chug a big gulp down made his throat thirsty for some as well.

But before his fingertips could touch the bottle, he recedes his fingers, crying inwardly. Yes, restraint must be needed. Now was not the time to indulge, it was time to get to know the people he is going to spend the rest of his carriage ride with!

"Is that so?" Alice turns his head away from the coach and to the hooded green skin fellow in the corner huddling away in it's own solitude. Though he has to admit that the posture did look comfortable.

"Would you mind sharing your previous experiences with me then? As if it wasn't obvious enough, it's my first time here." Alice scratched his cheek sheepishly smiling. "Oh and by the way, I'm Aliceson Wallce, feel free to call me Alice." Alice smiled and offered his hand out to the other.

Thankfully or unthankfully, the carriage was so small that he didn't have to reach far for a handshake. That'll be awkward wouldn't it?

---

Beige blinked, his facial muscles not twitching even once. Did they even have muscles? Admittedly, it was hard to tell what its anatomy could look like. His sight dropped to Alice's outstretched hand, and tilted his head to the side slightly, before looking directly up at him, his yellow-orange swirled eyes looking glassy. "I don't touch strangers. Strangers tell that Beige's hands especially are bad," There's that monotone voice again, revealing their name to be Beige. So odd that such a colourful weirdo would have a name so plain and... yeah, still kinda unusual. He moved his hands together on his lap, holding them together as they continued to talk. "Festivals are different for everyone. Some laugh, some cry. I go because I have to. It's what Beige must do. Alice, what would you do?" Oh, gross. A faint, small string of drool leaked from the side of their mouth as they spoke, swinging like a pendulum as if their jaw wasn't properly attached. By the looks of their body with all the crudely made stitches, it wouldn't be surprising if their jaw would be next to appear in stitches.

---

"You must go?" Oceiros tone was clearly filled with curiosity. He leaned forward even further, trying to listen to what he thought would be an epic tale full of thrills.

It was rather comforting seeing people get along in this ride. "First timer here too." he added as he barely scooched closer.

Oceiros noticed the person next to him was almost clammed up, messing with something on her hand and looking at the floor. "Hey, is everything alright?" he quietly turned to her. "I can ask the old man to stop for a bit if you need some fresh air if you want." he gestured at the general direction where the driver was sitting.

Okami stared out the window, opting to think of the past rather than the possible future ahead of her. She still wondered where exactly the old Elder had gotten the money or the clothes from, but it wasn't like she could ask.

The cloak she wore was softer than anything she had ever felt, let alone made with silk from the woodland creature. It was all she could do to restrain herself from taking it off to exam and caress it. She wanted to know how it was made, where it came from. The sounds emanating from the creaky caravan reminded her to remain on guard, and she didn't like being within the enclosed space with these other random people. She was itching to get outside and run along side the carriage, since the old man insisted she go, but she remained still and quiet.

She couldn't help letting out a little "hmph" at the ginder man's comment about "an adventure of a lifetime" and "God's favor". Humans were silly creatures.

Alice frowns when he saw the stitches on Beige's face. He recedes his hands and gave the child a gentle smile. However his eyes are analytically scanning the other's physical composition.

From the monotone voice, to the assorted stitches and as well as the eerily glowing glassy eyes, the inner medic in him couldn't help but be worried. The kid in front of him didn't feel alive.

A sick nausea entered his stomach, and a lump got stuck in his throat. The figure in front of him couldn't help but overlap with images of sagging bodies that stubbornly enter his tent once more. The bodies of soldiers that refused to die.

Because they refused to die, their body would get patched once more and get sent back onto the battlefield where they would fight for their lives once again. The process would repeat till their bodies couldn't be healed anymore, and they are nothing but a pile of bones and wounds.

Alice closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before opening them, blinking the imagery out of his head. He mustered up a gentle smile to Beige and shrugged. "Me? What I would like to do in the festival? Well.." He hums in a light tone as he put an index finger to his chin as he mulled over the question.

"Well, I suppose I would just like to have a nice time! See what the hype is about, and haggle over some good quality alcohol you know?" Alice gave the other a playful wink.

"What about you Beige, why must you go?"

---

Liza began to observe the others more clearly, noticing how each of them acted and behaved. Most seemed to be talking to the man up front, but one was sitting quietly. 'At least someone can stay quiet,' she thought again. She started sharpening her katana with a bit of splintered wood she had found on the floor, louder than she would have liked, but at least it gave her something to do. She began wondering if she was boring, not saying a word. 'Whatever, it doesn't matter', although she couldn't push the thought away. Taking a breath, she tried speaking:

"Hey, uh, how much longer?" her voice sounded softer than her appearance may suggest it to be.

Well, at least it was something.

She then realised the guy next to her was watching her. "Oh, uh, it's nothing."

---

Beige held eye contact for a heartbeat longer, before turning away and looking at his lap. "They have to know that I am thankful." Their voice was so monotone, but this time, there was an extra layer added by the way they spoke, like there was more to the sentence, almost as if... the end was never the end. This was no mere child, despite how his smaller shape may appear, his voice almost seemed like it carried... wisdom? The green boy stayed put, his hands gripping his knuckles idlely. It would be a mystery as to whether there was any thoughts happening in that miscoloured dome of theirs.

---

As if it wasn't already crammed, the last thing Oceiros expected was someone to pull a katana out and sharpen the damn thing using the very flood that barely supported us.

"You sure?" he replied. It was clear something was on her head. "Well,I'll uhh..." he paused for a moment. "I'll just sit down here." he said as he briefly got up only to sit at the floor, his back cracking as he finally was able to sit straight. He managed to sit somewhat close to the person who has participated before, looking up at them with undivided attention as if it were his own parents telling him a fairytale.

"Spare no detail!" he finally added. "Who's they?.. Don't tell me..." he hushed his lips, turning to the side as if to think. "A god? You got the attention of the gods?" His voice filled with childlike wonder filled the small room they were in.

"I... see." Alice couldn't help but be lost for words as he watched the child curl in on himself. He looked so small, yet oh so fragile. What has he gone through to be so broken? The silence in the carriage turned deafening. Alice teared his eyes away from Beige, and onto the hole on the bottom of the carriage, hoping it would ease or distract his mind somewhat.

But his head kept overlapping the child with the images of his friends, his companions, his family. How they all became haggard overtime during the war. How they acted so grateful towards him for healing and patching up their wounds.

Yet at the end, he was the one who sat here, in the carriage, alive.

Reaching his hands into his inner cloak pocket, Alice fished out his flat flask of wine. He promised himself that he would save this for the night, but right now, he just couldn't stand the soberness of his mind.

Uncapping the bottle with a pop, Alice took a long swing before settling back into his seat before sighing. Right, perhaps he should use this time to relax! Who knows what would happen later down the lines?

---

Beige let out a soft sigh, scratching his chin exaggeratedly, like did do in cartoons. "N... no. Beige has not seen the Gods," They started, giving the individuals in the cart a slightly worried look at their eagerness, their gaze shyly hovering on Oceiros for only half a moment, out of hesitation. "But... They have seen Beige. I'm sure of it." It hunched over, hanging his head as his cheek creased in effort. He took a moment to scratch at the stitches of his hands, before flinching away. It was clear he was conflicted in some way, his glassy eyes lifting to dart from each individual. He felt no obligation to remain in good spirits, as usual, likely, and held his honest, blunt demeanour.

---

Okami had to bite her tongue to not say something like "of course you haven't". Last thing she needed was a group of angry people.

Whatever the human, Alice?, was drinking smelled good. She wondered what it was and where she could get some. She has a bag of coins, but their meaning and value completely escaped her. And she wasn't able to ask. She hasn't used her voice in weeks either and despite her annoyance, she was anxious about her ability to communicate. So far, she's been able to keep up with what's been said, but what if they had some new words or talked too fast?

Letting the conversation in the waggon wash over faer, Blithe watched the scenery pass with an almost nostalgic smile. It had been so long since fae had time to simply breath and take in the rolling lands that were blessed by the gods, always too busy organizing the circus members. But this time, fae had left that up to faer understudy to try it's hand at the duties expected of faer, leaving fae with more than enough time to hitch a leisurely ride to what would soon be faer fair grounds. Reconnaissance you could say though Blithe preferred the term paid vacation. It sounded so much better that way.

When the topic of God's and who had caught their attention came up, fae only scoffed silently. What good was a Gods gaze when all they did was sow more discord than heal? Fae couldn't help but agree with the blond human who brought out a flask of wine, even if day drinking wasn't faer preferred vice. Unfortunately the open nature of the wagon meant that any smoke accumulated would float away in the pleasant breeze in an instant and thus fae settled for imagining the curl of smoke on faer tounge as the winds tugged on beryl hair.

Despite the talk of gods, Blithe could understand why everyone was so intrigued with the patchwork man. It was clear that something had happened for it to appear as dead as a doorknob yet still chatted as freely as any other person their age. The work of the gods, perhaps, but Blithe wasn't one to put much stock into heavenly miracles and thus simply chalked it up to a extremely talented mage or science obsessed experiment. Though, Blithe would admit that despite faer well travelled history, this was faer first time seeing such a specimine. Certainly intriguing but fae prided faeself on faer gentlefae like manners and asking such personal questions to a stranger was like leaping over those boundaries and rolling down the hill into a muddy ditch. Simply too audacious to be worth considering.

But still, this idle chatter was quite a welcome background noise to the trip, a companionship so different from what Blithe was used to. Here fae wasn't obligated to take charge nor be the voice of reason. Here, fae were simply a well dressed teifling who held as many secrets as anybody else.

---

The fish-like person stopped sharpening her weapon and stared down at the dragonish person sitting on the floor, enthusiastically asking questions. It was strange how people could change so much in a matter of seconds. She looked back down at her cuff again, although now, she was also listening in on the conversation, though of course, she couldn't show it. But... after all, if they would be arriving soon, she would at least have to know something. She wasn't quite sure why she was going in the first place, after all, the 'Gods' hadn't protected her family.

'But they had protected her'. She pushed the thought away

All of a sudden, she felt a strange sensation in her wrist.

Oh shoot.

She quickly covered it with her other hand, hoping nobody saw. She kept it there until the fizzing went away. She hadn't focused that hard, or 'envisioned' as she called it, in a while, and she thought she never really would again. To pass the leftover time, she continued sharpening, all the while listening to the conversation that was happening.

---