The sun was warm and mellow by the time Ronald returned from the fields. His hands were dusty, his shirt damp with sweat, and he smelled like earth and effort. The farm looked wonderful in the orange light — rows of green stretching out toward the horizon, glimmering faintly with health.
"Alright," he muttered, stretching his arms. "Bath time."
The small stone pool he'd built by the river was ready. The gentle stream flowed through it in a slow loop, the surface rippling like glass in the fading light. A few of the river-fish — the strange amphibious ones that had chosen to stay — darted in and out of the shallows.
He'd noticed something about them earlier: wherever they swam, the water cleared. Mud and silt would vanish in their wake, the bottom left clean and gleaming. One had even gulped down a clump of algae, then released a trail of shimmering bubbles that smelled faintly sweet, like wet grass after rain.
"Guess that solves the filter problem," Ronald said with a grin.
Corvo was leaning on a fence post nearby, his human shape leaning lazily on one elbow. "They're Purifish," he explained absently. "Natural water cleaners. They eat waste, exhale pure mana. The gods of rivers made them to keep streams healthy."
"Huh that's neat." They kinda look like water in fish form just a bit more fish like.Roland shared his thoughts with Corvo.
"Don't drink them." Corvo replied jokingly.
Ronald laughed. "I wasn't planning to."
He stripped off his shirt, set it neatly on a rock, and stepped into the pool. The water was cool but not freezing — just right after a day of work. He sank in up to his shoulders, closed his eyes, and exhaled deeply letting the tension leave his body.
The current was so gentle it almost felt alive. The Purifish circled lazily around him, nibbling at bits of dirt that floated free from his skin or hair, leaving little bursts of coolness as they passed. Within minutes, the water was clearer than glass.
Sol lay nearby, head on his paws, watching with that serene look only dogs seem to have. Every time a Purifish leapt near the edge, Sol's ear flicked — as if counting them to make sure none tried to escape.
From the porch, Corvo watched in silence. The air was calm; the fields swayed; the smell of damp earth mingled with faint sweetness from the carrot patch.
"Hard to believe this used to be wilderness," he said softly.
Ronald opened one eye. "Hard work pays off."
Corvo smiled faintly. "Sometimes, yes. Other times, it gives you a sore back."
"Good thing I don't get tired," Ronald said, splashing a bit of water toward him.
The crow laughed and sidestepped easily, feathers flickering faintly under the sunset light. "Careful, mortal. Splash me again and I'll bless your hair to grow moss."
"Would save on shampoo," Ronald joked.
They shared a quiet laugh that drifted over the fields like a warm breeze.
As twilight deepened, the world seemed to slow even further. The bull and cow settled into the barn their home. Aeris the sheep rested under the eaves, wool glowing faintly in the moonlight. The totem stood silent and still, its leaf-shaped wings barely rustling.
Ronald finally stepped out of the bath, clean and relaxed. He toweled off with a rough bit of cloth and sat on the grass beside Sol, who leaned against him with a satisfied sigh.
The Purifish darted in lazy circles through the water, the current carrying their soft blue glow downstream. Fireflies type creatures began to appear in the distance filled with a variety of glowingcolors.
"Tomorrow's another day," Ronald said quietly.
Corvo nodded from his perch, his voice soft. "A peaceful one, I hope."
For a moment, everything — the water, the air, the faint hum of night — seemed to agree.
Roland went home and decided to relax and go to bed." Early to bed early to shine" he said to himself. He laid on his sheep wool pile that he made into a mattress of sorts and closed his eyes and slowly drifted to sleep.