Wilhelm had crawled as far away from the cottage as was possible as soon as he had found the little stream, a brook really, that bubbled out of one of the gaping caves against the mountain face. The stream ran towards the cottage before it collected into a little pond behind the cottage and then exited through another cave. He had seated himself beside the stream right up beside the mouth of the cave with his back to the cottage, hoping that whatever sound drifted his way would simply be swallowed by the darkness before him. At least, it was working for a little bit.

He swept up the cold water, splashing it over his face before putting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head with a deep sigh, letting the brisk air soak in. It was pleasant here, he had to admit, and he was starting to understand one of the reasons Phsara withdrew from the world. There were enough loud, angry, and violent people in the world to make the most sane of people to want to just run away.

"I'LL PACK YOUR THINGS FOR YOU WILHELM!"

The boy felt his eye twitch at Mirrah's cry. If she wasn't screaming at the top of her lungs with the tinge of aggitation and malice towards the pirate who was probably staring at her and mouthing some sort of annoying comment, Wilhelm probably would have shouted a thank you in response. And though his desire to protect his belongings was strong, his desire to remain as far away from people as possible was so much stronger. Wilhelm would have plunged his head into the stream if it was deep enough.

Wilhelm let out another deep sigh, attempting to regain his composure. Okay, so technically their current mission was done. He had successfully gotten Lorena to her destination, was paid with some, supposedly, legendary items. Since it seemed Mirrah was all better now, the next thing to do was to descend the mountain, and find another job. Wilhelm patted his hands dry on his pants. If he was correct, his contract with Mirrah would end in another week. Which meant he had to pay her in a week. Wilhelm was pretty sure he lost more money than gained.

He probably would have felt so much better if he had gained some sort of insight to the horns! Maybe he would have to sell them after all, though only extremely exclusive circles of historians and legend fanatics, the kind that Wilhelm had yet to find, knew about Watcher Horns. And even so, the horns would probably be the last thing he would sell in his entire inventory. There was still so little he knew about the horns! Wilhelm reached into his pocket, withdrawing one of the horns and stared at it, as if doing so could have unveiled all its secrets.

What was he even trying to figure out anyway? The most information any one person had about the Watchers was that they could peer into the future, and that this ability was solely derived from the characteristic horns atop each Watcher's head. The exact science was unknown. After all, how does one test or observe a vision into the future? That was what he had hoped to find out by obtaining these horns!

But really, what information did he gain from getting these horns? Was there even proof that these Watcher's existed? Wilhelm lowered his eyes, frowning. He couldn't start thinking like that. If they didn't exist, he was as good as scammed, and usually he was good at picking up on that kind of threat. He didn't even know what one looked like; Lorena had left before he could get that information out of her. The best he could imagine was the figure of a man or woman with the pair of horns attached to the sides of their heads.

What was up what that dream of his anyway? He had never had a dream like it, so vivid as well. Wilhelm's fingers rubbed against the ridges of the horn, smudging around the dust of some chemical still left on the horn. There were other dreams as well, aside from the one he just had. Really, just fleeting dreams whenever he was exhausted from all the pirate attacks and mountain climbing he had. All dreams about the horns and the figures that they belonged to. Perhaps, these horns once belonged to a child, like the one in his dream? That, after sneaking onto a ship off of Tranquility, had fallen into the ocean, drowned, and found by Lorena?

It was possible wasn't it? Wilhelm paused the light of excitement sparking in his eyes. He reached into his other pocket, bringing the matching horn out. What if the dream he had were more than that? What if it was a vision into the fabric of time, a vision of the horn's past? It was true that some cults practiced some tribal craft that induced sleep in a person with drugs in order to glimpse into the future or past. What if the visions of the horns he had been having were exactly this? What if, because he had the horns in his possession, the horns were imparting some of its history to him? That there was some sort of stream in the sky, that Watchers assumed the form of humans with horns atop their heads, masked with magic, and that they really lingered amongst the humans, silently listening to their speculation with smiles on their lips.

Hah! What were the chances of that? Nothing was that easy.

Wilhelm leaned forward with another disappointed sigh, looking at his splintered reflection in the surface of the water. Not that he could really tell what a normal, weird dream was from a vision of the future. He couldn't make heads nor tails out of his dream, and that was normal. He was pretty sure a vision of the future would be just as confusing. Wilhelm studied his face in the water, absentmindedly bringing the horns up to the temple of his head. The boy in his dream was about his age, who knows, what if this was what a Watcher child looked like? What if Watchers were just humans that grew horns on their heads, persecuted by the normal, hornless humans and driven to seclusion or extinction? Maybe the horns truly were just conduits to some greater force or being that could view the past and future? Like... antenna and radio waves.

Wilhelm paused in his pondering, his brow knitting. He had taken a long enough pause in his speculations to notice a strange sound. It was like some sort of static, or ambient fog noise. But as much as he tried to isolate it, his ears couldn't hear it. What was it? Wilhelm sat up straight, moving the horns from his head. The noise ceased. It disappeared so seamlessly that he almost felt like he hadn't heard it at all. Like he had imagined it.

He lifted the horns back to his head, and true enough, the noise returned. Wilhelm's heart started to race, and he removed it from his head and pressed it against his head again for good measure. No! He wasn't imagining it! It was something! "Oh my god!" He leapt to his feet, ignoring the prickling pain of the jagged ends of the horns probing into his temple. "Oh my god! Mirrah! I got it!"

He paused, looking up at the sky in an effort to filter out everything else and focus purely on the sound. It was a hazy mesh of sounds, he realized, like there was someone talking, a breeze blowing, waves crashing, underbrush rustling, all at once. Like there was too many quiet sounds all mingling together that nothing was clear or prominent. The more he concentrated, the louder the noises became but no less distinguishable.

Wilhelm suddenly felt extremely light headed. He lowered his gaze in an attempt to steady himself, but everything seemed to grow brighter, like someone was increasing the intensity of the light. He couldn't seem to pull the horns away from his head, could even tell if his hands were trying no matter how much his instinct was telling him to do it. The pain in his temples seemed to spread until it enveloped his entire brain until he couldn't even think straight anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut, darkness filling his vision instead of light, but the noise seemed to strengthen. "M-Mirrah!" He let out an agonized moan through clenched teeth and suddenly felt himself toppling over into the stream.