Jace cried out in fear as darkness seemingly swallowed him whole.

Then he hit something, the grate smacking into it first and because he still stupidly held onto it Jace followed through. His right wrist snapped and several of his fingers dislocated as he banged about and then he lost his grip on the grate.

Tumbling he hit something jagged with the right side of his chest and felt it puncture through, cracking several of his ribs.

His legs whacked solidly numbing his ankles. The back of his head struck something pointy and ice filled Jace’s mind and body. He coughed and spluttered as he smacked into icy cold waters then, face down. All, was lights out for Jace as he struggled pitifully to right himself and hold his breath. His body didn’t respond. Then he was weightless and falling still within the water. His legs crumpled as he hit a rock at the bottom of a small waterfall, his back bending awkwardly as he had a brief moment of fresh air.

It was too brief though and Jace missed it. Then he was back under, flowing with the current or rapid, which ever it was he was losing time and air.

He couldn’t hold it any longer and bubbles started to peek and erupt from the corner of his mouth and out of his nose. Water rushed in to fill his mouth, throat and then lungs. He tried to shake his head, to reject this kind of end. He stopped fighting then, and for a seemingly endless moment, all was cool.

Warmth spread through and seized his lungs. He would’ve described it as pain, but all he could manage was stillness. He jerked and compressed. And then stopped. Stopped Everything.

The fighting. The running. The pain. The fear. All of it evaporated. His eyes slid shut.

Then snapped open as a something gripped the collar of his tunic and lifted Jace bodily out of the icy cold water. Before Jace could even gasp in surprise, or expel his lungful of water. He was dropped unceremoniously to the ground, smacked his head, and then passed out.

~*~*~*~

Mrs. A, looked at her husband at he dragged her fathers agent out of the water and let him go to flop like a fish on the ground. “Honey,” Mr. R, said turning to her with a cocked eyebrow. “I believe he’s dead.”

“He’s only pretending,” Mrs. A, sniffed and looked at the mangled corpse.

For a long moment they simple stared at it, “he did say this one right?” Her husband asked her.

“I believe so. Apparently they were acquainted some time ago. This one owed father a favour,” she replied and peered closer at the corpse. “Father did say that he had given the man a few gifts.”

“Apparently none of those involved breathing water,” Mr. R, noted with a dry laugh. Mrs. A, looked at her husband and rolled her eyes. They were simply meant to check in with the man, drop off a present or two and shoot out of there.

“Can you save him … without using any spells,” she added hurriedly as bands of green began to form around her husband’s wrists.

“Hmmm,” Mr. R, hummed for a long moment and then shrugged. Bending down he grabbed a hold of the man’s leg just above his broken ankle and lifted him bodily off the ground. Mrs. A, took several steps back to avoid the water splashing off the corpse as her husband whipped it around in a circle, and accidentally let go.

The body slammed into a tree and crumpled there. “Shitfuckpissass,” her husband gunned and suddenly appeared next to the broken body. “Honey?” he called to her, sounding both innocently apologetic and sheepish.

“I’m coming,” she grumbled a sigh and walking over, trailing a path of dead foliage even as those around her feet sprang to life and died in her wake she stopped by her husband.

“I think you’ll to have take this one. Otherwise we’ll be here all day,” he said and adjusted his glasses while fingering at the chuff of his suit sleeve.

Mrs. A, bent forward at the waist, ignoring the spank her husband gave her bottom. And reaching out she cupped the chin of the corpse, it skin slimy, cold and pale blue. Her white irises glowed as she expelled a breath filled with glowing blue mist over the man’s head.

“Fucking Instant Recovery. Strange from the source. How I miss those,” Mr. R, sighed wistfully.

Standing up Mrs. A, patted her husband’s shoulder. Knowing full well how he missed the old days. Times were simpler then.

They both stepped back as the corpse began to twitch and spasm violently. Then they both turned as its bones started to contort and realign. “You know. If we finish this fast enough, we can back to your father and then make it home in time for Ally’s delivery.”

“Yes. Well you did agree with father on this, and it was partially your plan,” she reminded her husband.

“Yeah- okay. Just poor timing is all. What, with these fucking fragments of the prime showing up everywhere, it’s starting to become a pain in the ass.”

Mrs. A, sighed heavily then wince as something crunched behind her. “Yes well. We have to avoid direct confrontation until the time is right. They however, don’t.”

“Well your father should just make a whole new plane which we can stuff everyone on. This whole being sneaky, really isn’t us. I mean when-”

~*~*~*~

Jace groaned and spluttered as water vomited out of him like from a blocked fire hose, spraying out of his mouth and nose in all directions. Everything ached and his mind was on fire. His throat was rung ragged and coarse.

Rolling onto his back and narrowly missing the puke of water pooling the ground beside him. He blinked at the forest canopy above, the trees all around him, and the sounds of water cascading loudly from nearby.

Then he heard the people. Groaning he sat up slightly to see two oddly fashionably dressed people standing a few yards away. Their backs turned to him.

“- I know exactly what you mean, dear. But we can’t get involved ourselves just yet. If we play our hand too early the Prime will take notice and after what happened last time. None of us want that.”

“Ex-” Jace tried to called to them, but his throat simply croaked instead.

“So we’re agreed on the other thing?” the man asked the woman.

“What? getting this over with quickly so we that can see our daughter being born … absolutely,” the woman replied and touched the man’s cheek kindly. Then they both swished about to face Jace. A few things instantly struck Jace about their appearances.

The man, wore a neatly tailored dark-brown suit, his equally brown hair was combed back, and a pair of thickly rimmed glasses sat on his nose. His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue, with vibrant red shards scattered about the rim of his irises.

The woman, wore a figure-hugging white sundress with matching white heels. Her equally white hair was stylised to frame her gorgeous face and slender neck. She shone like purity given form, made stranger by her white eyes centred by a black pinprick of a pupil. She folded her gloved hands across her sleek stomach and smiled at Jace. Where as the man shrugged at him.

“Ah! He’s awake. That’s one hard tree…” the man muttered and then grunted as the woman swatted him in the stomach.

“Sorry for the rude introduction,” the woman began and shot a look at the man who just grinned. “I am Mrs. A. And this rude Oaf beside me is my husband, Mr. R.” She waved her gloved between them.

Swallowing and gaining enough moisture to in my mouth to talk, Jace said; “if he’s your husband. Wouldn’t that make you, Mrs. R instead?”

“They’re our codenames,” the women explained in a huff.

“Plus,” the man, Mr. R, interjected. “I’m pretty certain Marcus gave me Mr. R. So that I’ll be mistaken for your father.”

“Quite likely,” Mrs. A, mused. “Uhm, where were we?” she looked at Jace then and frowned fractionally. Jace simply looked between the two of them, unsure if he should run away. Though he was certain, he should’ve been dead right now. So maybe these people had saved him. He owned it to them then to listen.

“The gifts, hon,” Mr. R, told her.

“Right!” her eyes lit up, with a soft glow and Jace leaned away from them. Something clicked then in the back of mind and tension he hadn’t known he had before melted away, flowing down his spine in a shiver.

“Now Rh- Mr. R, the other gift if you will, dear?” Mrs. A said over her shoulder to the man.

“You know. My gift from you was a lot more violent than what everyone else receives,” Mr. R, grumbled and crouching down, he pressed hands against the foliage near him.

Mrs. A, smiled at him. “You were my first in all things, after all,” she smirked at him and laughed lightly as he coughed in embarrassment. Jace watched the byplay between the two and got the sense they had quite a few good stories between them. The woman stepped back as a kaleidoscope of colours bloomed beneath Mr. R’ hands.

Jace shielded his eyes as the colour grew and intensified, washing an array of vibrant rainbows across the trees and forest floor.

As he turned away, Jace noted the dead foliage leading a trail towards where Mrs. A, stood. Around her though grass and vines grew bustling and died all within seconds of each other. I think my life just got stranger, Jace thought and blinked repeatedly as the array of colour ceased.

“These are a gift from your benefactor, and an apology,” Mr. R said standing and dusting a hand across his suit trousers. In his other hand sat a dark green silken wrapped bundle.

“W-who?” Jace asked and blinked dumbly, the tension that eased from him earlier, now made his head feel light, like he was spinning in the clouds.

“Your benefactor, I can say no more than that. The apology is because we had no idea that the Prime Fragment was gorging herself on a summons’ memories.

“Memories…” Jace trailed off, “can you give back to me?” A kindle of hope burned deep in his soul at the prospect.

“I’m afraid not,” Mrs. A, interrupted before her husband could reply. Jace caught the slight frown flitting across the mans face before he sighed and then nodded.

“We can’t,” Mr. R, affirmed and stared hard at Jace for long moment. Jace nodded acquiescing and catching the strange man’s meaning. Someone could. Just not them. Then who?

“And this is the gift,” the man knelt and place the silken bundle on the ground before Jace, and removed the covering. Beneath it rested a wooden inlayed with steel vambrace. Small caricatures of figures and symbols Jace couldn’t identify decorated around the outside of a steel panel at the centre of the vambrace.

Jace reckoned that the outside layering was all wood—though why wood was used he couldn’t understand—while the interior of being a layer of steel. It looked well-crafted but other than that, Jace wasn’t quite sure of the vambraces’ importance.

“Oookay,” Jace started slowly reaching out to take the piece of armour.

“Once who’ve placed it on your arm, it will be bound to you and you alone,” Mr. R, warned him. Jace frowned at that and cocked an eyebrow. “I cannot say more. You will learn to use it in time.”

“We must be going now,” Mrs. A, told them. Jace nodded absently and retrieved his hand, leaving the vambrace on the forest floor for a moment.

“Thank you,” Jace nodded his head gratefully. Though he felt absently like he shouldn’t have been saved. That he wasn’t worth this much attention. Then again the Dweller seemed to think that Jace was an anomaly. So maybe there was some truth to Jace actually being sent here by someone else. Maybe whoever this Fragment opposed.

“Word of advice?” Mr. R, said to him. Jace nodded agreeably. “Head west,” the man then pointed to Jace’ left and he followed the gestured looking that way.

“Right, well thanks-” he began but as he turned back they were simply gone without a trace of them ever being there. Well … other than the rows of dead forest floor and the ornate wooden and steel vambrace beside him.

Standing up unsteadily Jace sighed and bending over picked the vambrace up, carefully tucking it under his arm. Then he followed the sound rushing water to the small waterfall, spouting out a cave mouth embedded in large cliff face.

Jace looked up. And up. And up. A widely thick mountain of rock, spruced by odd trees and vines dandling like wiry beards stood before him. The top of the mountain—or cliff, or whatever the hell it was—was cut completely off by a swarm of dark clouds.

If I was a betting man, he thought, and reckoned that Parkers Hold was somewhere on top, or inside this mountain. Walking over to the flowing pool of water, he crouched down at the rim and splashed some cold water across his face, arms and neck. He then took a few tentative sips of the chilling liquid. It was fresh, but he didn’t trust it beyond a few more gulps.

Afterwards he set off into the forest, heading west.

He check his possessions as he went, finding both the weird golden brush case and the journal. Oddly the journal was completely dry, and the brush case was sealed and airtight, so no water got inside. He had however lost the small copper piece he suspected was money, though of a low brand.

Looking out across the forest he saw that further ahead; the cloud coverage was endless, not even a spot of sunlight was pouring through. The sky seemed to be in a perpetual state of bleak grey clouds.

He hummed and picked up the pace.

~*~*~*~

Jace froze as a scream tore through the darkened woods. Night had fallen quickly over him, and made his travelling harder. His clothes had thankfully dried off in the trek, but the cold night air chilled his bones. Add in the sounds of scurrying and animals creeping across the forest floor. Jace decided that staying on the move was probably better than finding some place to hunker down. Who knew what could lying in wait for him.

Than was about when the sounds of shouting, fighting, and screaming started off.

He unfroze, as the scream picked up again, this time louder and joined by other voices. There was then a soft pop that seemed to travel on the night air. He ran, weaving between tree as a light bloomed up ahead. His footsteps loud and pounding against the leafy ground. Then Jace heard a sound, he’d hoped to not hear for some time. An inhuman chattering howl and feral shriek.

He rushed on pushing himself as the light ahead of him set ablaze like a burning wicker man. The fire—for that’s what it was—blossomed in a roaring gush of exhalation as a ring of three people fought desperately against a tithe of zombies. A wagon had been wedged to close off a gap in a wooden staked fence.

Jace exploded out of the forest of trees and into the rear end of the horde. Without stopping he swung wide and smashed his gifted vambrace into the face of a zombie. It gurgled a growl and went down, Jace stomped his heel into the top of its head, mushing its brain.

Twisting back around he drove an elbow into the back of another neck, snapping broke, making it fall limp. Taking the vambrace in both hands Jace brought it down on the zombies nose, there was a crunch as its face caved-in weakly.

Arms and hands gripped his shoulders and neck, and Jace rolled forward, taking whoever held him down in a falling tumble. Rolling across the muddy ground Jace came to a stop and pushed himself to his feet. Looked up and saw that the majority of the undead’ attention was now on him.

Feet sliding partially, Jace cursed the ground. Obviously the zombies and whatever people trafficked through here had churned the ground into a soft squelching mud.

Sniffing Jace squared his shoulders, there was a good seven or eight stumbling haphazardly towards him. He firmed his grip on the vambrace, as the first of them got close enough. Jace skidded into a slide and went down on his ass, yet his foot flailed out and caught the zombie just above its waist.

It fell back but managed to grabbed a hold of his boot and breeches and pulled Jace along. Kicking frantically, while trying to back pedal, he clipped the zombie in the side of its of jaw and tore the all of the skin off its mouth, chin and nose.

“Fucking gross,” Jace threw his vambrace at its head. The blow knocked it back and gave Jace enough time to slide forward, grab one of its arms, while planting his foot firmly on its chest, he pulled.

With a sickening squelch, the arm tore easily free. He swung it and back handed the zombies head, turning it to the side. Scrambling back onto his feet, Jace swung and battered the zombie flat on the ground.

Then an intense need built inside of him and Jace spun on the next zombie cutting close. The second he saw this one, it drew all of his attention.

It got one of them inside its head, he thought. Swinging home and bashing into the back of its jaw. It growled and tried to stand quickly but Jace was already slipping and sliding onto it.

Stomping his foot down on its lower back and throwing the arm-bat aside, Jace bent and gripped both of its own. With a tearing pop, Jace felt the arms tear and dislocate from their sockets. He pulled harder and stumbled back as they tore completely free. The zombie tried kicking its legs and gnashing its teeth, as it tried to move.

Jace beat the ever-loving shit out of it. Noticing that the skin on the arms where he was holding had torn away, and were now bleeding and stinking.

Throwing them at the approaching zombies, Jace scanned the ground looking for his vambrace. There! He dove for it, driving into the mud and slid several feet before stopping. Jace spun it in his hands and slipped it on over his right arm.

The instant his hand coned and slid through the open, Jace felt it pulse and grow warm. Then all of a sudden, what felt like hundreds of steel spikes drove through his forearm stabbing him continuously, though it only lasted three seconds it seemed endless.

Then it stopped and the vambrace cinched tight on his arm. Then nothing. “Well that was fucking useless,” Jace cursed and stumbled to his feet. He’d expected some awesome power and instead got a Chinese wrist burn—if a Chinese wrist burn involved stabbings nails, and bolts being driven through your arm. Wait, what? Jace shook away his nonsensical musings.

The forgotten whatever it was—he’d been thinking about—worked to only piss him off even more. “Six left,” he grumbled, and steadied himself. A horn erupted—seemingly—from the darkened skies above them. The zombies all collective chattered, like constructions workers grumbling when called off of break time early.

Then all together like a pack of wolves they retreated running into the woods, circling the staked fence. “What the hell? They’re retreating,” Jace’ recollected back to when he had met Xena. The asshole-warrior-woman had mentioned that the armed-zombies had ran away from her. Maybe they’re more coordinated than I thought.

Walking over toward the fence, through which he could see a few houses, and a small barn. Jace tapped on the wooden stake, knocking. “You alive in there?” he called out.

“Y-yeah,” a man panted gruffly. “Just… give me a… minute while I… catch my breath. Son, help your mother burn more sticks.” The man said to someone else.

“Hang on. With me now…” the man said, and Jace heard him grunt as he tried to pull the wagon aside. Jace guessed the man had been talking to him, so from his side Jace planted his feet as best he could and pushed against the wooden wagon. It slid easily out and Jace heard the squealing wheels groan as they began rolling it to the right.

Clapping his hands and checking for splinters, Jace came around the wagon and almost stumbled. Standing before, muddy and exhausted was someone who bore similarities, but was also decidedly not human.

For one the man had red-furred fox ears protruding out the top of his brown-haired head and a thick bushy red, black, and white tip tail, that swung limply between his legs.

His eyes were a vibrant shade of orange and as the man squinted at Jace he noticed how the fire light reflected a stripe of silken red fur curve beneath the mans eyes lid and just above his cheek bones.

Realising he was staring at the fox-man, Jace stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Jace… -uh, Yasgaes.” He added dumbly remembering the owner of the journals surname.

The fox-man nodded and smiled slightly at Jace, and accepted his hand. “Hello Jace. I am Douglas Shaw. Thank you for helping to save my home.” Jace felt the man’s nails—or should he say claws—were rather long and sharp. “Come on, and help me to push this back in place.”

A few seconds later, they’d pushed the wagon back, and wedged it firmly through the gap. “It won’t keep the wretches out if they come back, but it’ll certainly give us notice when they try.”

“They’ll come back?” Jace asked worriedly. He looked about and saw that all that was really here was a few squat, thatched houses, two in total. A well for water, and a small barn. They’d build a pyre to help illuminate the encroaching darkness.

“They come back every night,” Douglas sighed heavily and limped towards a woman and small boy roughly around eight or ten years old. Both of them had fox-like features, though the boy’s ears were tiny, and his tail was a mottle brown.

The mother, Jace assumed she was, had long curly auburn hair with the same red furred ears and tail as Douglas, though a streak of white shot down the centre of her tail, from base to white furred tip. She had a lovely figure as well, full breasts and round hips, slim waist and a mature firmness to her. She wore a dark blue linen dress with a lace string back, and long embroidered lace sleeves.

Douglas and his son wore matching dark grey tunics and breeches. Both of them turned as they approached. Jace saw the mother grab her sons’ arm and pulled him behind her protectively, her vibrant yellow gaze narrowing on Jace.

“Jace, this is my wife Marcia Marcy Shaw,” Jace nodded respectfully to her. “And my son, Cain Shaw.” Jace smiled slightly and gave the small fox-boy a gentle wave.

“What is a human doing out here in Trager Forest?” Marcia asked Jace suspiciously. Her voice terse and sharp.

“Exploring,” Jace replied immediately. Exploring? You didn’t even know the forest had a name, Jace winced internally. And hoped they wouldn’t ask him anymore questions.

“Exploring where-”

“Marcia,” Douglas cut her off tersely. “He helped us. The least we can do is not pry the mans secrets out of him.”

Marcia’ vibrant yellow gaze churned on her husband then. An unspoken and verbally abusive silence settled between them like a battle of wills.

Jace felt a tug on his hand and looking down he saw the small fox-boy, Cain holding his wrist. Looking back up at the wordlessly arguing couple, Jace chose to ignore the boy. I do not, want to piss off his mother, Jace thought and nodded sagely at the commonly good sense.

“Excuse me,” Jace cleared his throat loudly, and inwardly shrunk away as Marcia’ gaze alighted on him and then fumed as she saw her son gripping his hand. “Let go of my-”

“Will the zombies come back again tonight?” Jace interrupted her, pointedly focusing on Douglas. The man shook his man, as his ears twitched forward. “No. They come once every night. Never in larger numbers than tonight. Its strange really. You read the old books and they explain how the wretches roved across the land decimating everything in their wake. Yet only a few ever show up here, attack and try to get in then retreat.”

“How long have they been doing this?” Jace asked leaning in.

Douglas cocked an eyebrow at Jace then, “some two months. We’re what?” He looked to his wife, who was still eyeing Jace suspiciously. Her full lips pulled back in a silent snarl, showing off long pointy fangs jutting down from her upper jaw.

“Nearing the mid-term of the Hindus calendar,” Marcy growled, “It’s the 49th of Hindus.”

“Ah, so almost half way through,” Douglas said and gave his wife a blank look as she continued to growl at Jace. Jace for his part tried his best to show no obvious signs of discomfort. The woman’s gaze felt like a physical thing, pushing and overwhelming his sense of bravery.

“We lost our son in law those first few days. It only took one of them stumbling out of the forest,” Douglas eyes grew distant then, even his wife stopped snarling at Jace as her ears wilted flat atop her head. “Mathia tried to help the man, believing him to be some lost stranger…” he trailed off.

“It bit him,” Jace finished softly for him.

“Aye… it did. That’s … that’s how we knew the Eclipse was upon us. Our slow inevitable end,” Douglas sighed and then his eyes brightened. “Come. Let’s go inside. I’m sure Athena is getting cramped in the crawl space.”

Jace blinked as the man swished away, though his tail remained limp. Marcia said nor did anything out towards Jace, though her eyes stayed narrowed as she took Cain’ other hand. They followed Douglas to the larger of the two thatch houses. Douglas cracked open the door slowly and whistled inside, Jace heard a small thump and someone expel a loud heavy breath.

As they entered, he saw Douglas sliding a table back and lifting a plain rug, revealing a small two by three-feet wooden floor hatch. Pulling the ring up, Jace watched as a slender and pale arm thrust upwards and Douglas clasped it.

Jace hustled inside, as Marcia nudged his shoulder and Cain took off running to climb onto a chair where he sat and swung his legs, watching his father. Douglas helped a young fox-woman carrying bundle protectively to her chest, out of the crawl space.

“We have company,” Jace heard Douglas say softly to the woman. He was amazed, he’d heard it at all. Then possibly the most beautiful woman Jace had ever seen in his forgetful life, turned and looked at him.

The gentlest yellow eyes shone on him, and he felt his insides quiver with something unexpected. Protectiveness. He didn’t even need to speak, nor say his name. Her simply staring at him across the short distance of the room felt overwhelming. “Athena, this is Jace. We would’ve been dead if not for him,” Douglas said, and sighed as Marcia snorted at that. “Jace, this is my daughter, Athena.”

“H-hi,” Jace stammered and cleared his throat. He inwardly berated himself, for fucking stuttering. Athena had her mothers beauty, though on the her it seemed kinder. The only difference between them was that Athena lacked the white stripe down her tail, and her auburn hair was darker than Marcia. Her body was fuller, and her burgundy linen dress hugged her curves gloriously.

“Its wonderful to meet you, Jace. And thank you for helping my family,” Athena cooed sweetly. Then the bundle wrapped against her rather amble chest squirmed and babbled. “Aww,” Athena laughed lightly, as a tiny-tiny pair of fox ears poofed up from within the bundle.

Then the fox baby, gaggled a nonsensical litany of garbled words.

A small baby hand pushed a fold of the wrap aside and leaned up as Athena’ arms supported beneath it. A small head and baby face shot out and looked around the room, babbling incessantly. Then stopped as it came to Jace and stared in wonderous confoundment.

Athena leaned in and spoke softly to the baby. “Gabrielle, this is our hero Jace,” then speaking up and smiling at him she carried on. “Jace, this is my daughter, Gabrielle.”

The baby burped at Jace, gurgled, and then dribbled some sick over itself.

~*~*~*~

A few minutes later Jace was sitting down at the table as Douglas played with his granddaughter. His son flicking through a picture book. Athena and Marcia were gathered around a stove fire, cutting, chopping and mixing all sorts of greens and sparse meat into a pot.

Jace couldn’t take his eyes off either Athena, nor her daughter. The baby, though he was avoiding going near her, had sparked another intensive surge of protectiveness within him. And frankly, that terrified Jace, now that he had the chance to calm down and collect his thoughts.

Should just leave tomorrow. Continue on westward. Find this town mentioned in the journal. Oedrin? They’ll just slow us down. And I doubt they’ll leave here anyway. His objections were weak willed and Jace knew it. Something inside him, told him to remain with the Shaw family.

There was a familiarity to this family setting, that Jace recognised. Did I…? His mind drawing back to the scene the Dweller had shown him. Shaking away the morose thoughts. Jace pried the journal out from within his tunic and ran his hand down the cover.

On a whim, Jace placed the journal on the table and slid it over. “Douglas, what do you make of that?” Jace asked the man. The man eyed it briefly and then held out Gabrielle to Jace.

“Take her for me, a moment.”

Grumbling, Jace did so. Holding onto Gabrielle, Jace and the baby simply looked at each other. The hair on the top of her head was a light shade of red, almost orange like Douglas’ eyes. He wondered if that was inherited from her father side. Her eyes were a bright forest green. Her tiny ears twitched at Jace, and then baby reached out both hands making grabbing gestures.

“Dab-bah,” Gabrielle babbled at him.

“You’re a right little stinker, aren’t you?” Jace said softly and even surprised himself by smiling at the baby. Lowering his face down, he flinch as Gabrielle slapped both of his cheeks roughly. “Hey!” Jace chuckled. He felt like this was somehow a turning point for him. That it would change the way he viewed others and their worth to him.

He was still analytical and steely at heart. That change had happened the minute everything went crazy in that room he’d woken up in. He still expected himself to crash and break down at some point.

But the stinker he was holding on to, as she patted his face and scrunched up his mouth, cheeks and nose warmed something inside him. Made him realised that even if he did break down and crash, that it would be okay in the end.

~*~*~*~

As Jace occupied himself with making Gabrielle giggle and bubble with laughter. Douglas leafed through the small journal. When he came to the last entry and saw the bloody fingers prints, he gasped lightly and the read the entry silently to himself. After and flicking back through and finishing once again he looked to the young across the table from him, playing with his granddaughter.

The lad seemed innocent enough. But how many innocent people would run charging into the rear of a small horde of wretches?

The name, he thought checking the front page of the journal. Tormund Yasgaes. Douglas wanted to ask this stranger a couple of questions but feared the others might hear what he had to say. Placing the journal back down on the table, he poked it twice with a claw tipped finger catching the young man’s attention.

~*~*~*~

Jace looked over at Douglas, his face flush with laughter and red from the many faces he’d been pulling. The fox-man eyed him sternly for a second or so and nodded fractionally, his eyes flicking briefly to the women who were still cooking. Jace understand the unspoken later, that passed between them.

Taking the journal back he hid it in his tunic, tucking it down by his waist. Hugging Gabrielle to him to make sure he didn’t drop her. Jace spent the next few seconds bouncing her on his knee and blowing raspberry on his arm.

When diner was done, Athena took Gabrielle back with a kind and thankful smile that burst his heart into sparks, and they all dished themselves some stew. “We’ve no mead or the like here,” Douglas told Jace after they’d cleaned their bowls empty with a slice of bread. Soaking up the juices of carrots, onion, potatoes and something that tasted similarly to beef.

“That’s fine with me. I’m not much of a drinker anyway,” Jace replied and accepted the mug of cool water that was passed to him. Drawn out from a bucket that Jace guessed came from the well. It was fresh and chilled and Jace gulped it down greedily. He sat staring into the small stove fire at the centre of the house.

“Jace,” Douglas prompted him, “you can stay here if you like. It’s the least we can do for helping us.” Jace saw Marcia eyes narrowed dangerously at the suggestion, though her husband paid her no mind and ploughed ahead. “Just know that if you do, you’ll have to help around the lot tomorrow. If you stay past that … well, we’ll discuss it then.”

Jace blinked at the fox-man, his mind tumbling. Should leave them and go. Oedrin needs you. Needs to know what you know. Would they listen to him though? He was a stranger in a strange land. So far he’d been pretty accepting of his situation. But would others be of him?

“Thank Douglas. I guess beyond that, we’ll see.”

Athena smiled across at him, as Marcia scowled wiping Cain’ face and fingers free of stew.

“Bab-dah-bah-baba,” Gabrielle babbled her agreement.

Not long after that, the bowls were rinse out and everyone made ready for bed. Douglas pulling out a straw mat and throwing two thick wool blankets down for Jace. A curtain was erected then, dividing off the women as they changed into their nightwear. Jace for his part looked to Douglas and the fox-man nodded to the front door. Once outside in the bitter cold, the men turned to each other.

“You have questions?” Jace guessed, and Douglas nodded slowly.

“Aye, I do. First off: Does that journal belong to a relative of yours?” Douglas asked him quietly.

“No,” Jace replied simply and shook his head.

“Your surname isn’t Yasgaes?” again Jace shook his head. “You’ve been to Parkers Hold?” this time Jace hesitated and then nodded.

“It wasn’t a pleasant place. I almost died escaping.”

“Aye, son. I know of it. But I imagine it was something entirely different for you.”

“What’d you mean?” Jace asked him.

Douglas took a long moment to consider his reply, “it’ll be better if I explain tomorrow morning as you help around. But, lets just say, that a few people know of Parkers Hold. The most disturbing thing though is that its now overrun, if that little book of yours tells the truth.”

“From what I saw inside,” Jace paused, “I would say it’s more than occupied.”

“Alright, next question. Are you a Magus?”

“A what?” Jace asked confused. Then from the look of confusion mirroring Douglas’s own face Jace realised he should’ve simply said no instead of questioning him.

Douglas nodded slowly then, as if agreeing with something he had thought of. Jace felt like whatever it was, it wouldn’t bode well for him.

“Maybe- maybe I should just go,” Jace mumbled, looking out into the dark forest beyond the small farm lot. The pyre still blazed, lighting the entire surrounding area though it was noticeably dimmer now than before.

“You don’t have to that son,” Douglas said not unkindly, “if… if you are what I think you are, then I suspect you’ll have questions of your own. Some I may even be able to answer. But tomorrow,” he added as he saw Jace about to spew forth a closet full of questions.

Nodding reluctantly Jace went back inside and rolled onto his straw mat. The women were done changing and now all of them slid into their beds to form a rough semi-circle near the stove fire still burning.

Jace rearranged his blankets getting more comfortable. Then he heard a feral growl and bolted up right on his straw mat looking frantically around. Except that the growl was coming from his left, rolling up from deep within Marcia throat.

Looking over her way, Jace blushed heavily. Marcia was growling a warning and baring her teeth at Jace as he looked and saw that in fact, Athena had one of her heavy swollen breasts out. It was ripe and full, swelling with vitality.

Athena then popped Gabrielle on the nipple, and the baby tiny mouth stretched to latch on. Jace swore that Gabrielle even winked at him as Athena blushed and titled her head. Long curly dark red hair spilling over her shoulder and blocking Jace from view.

The growling grew, and Jace immediately snapped his eyes shut and spun on his mat to face away from them. Stranger and stranger. All I need now is a harem of warrior babes in bikinis and a thick-ass sword that bitches at me. Even as the strange thought registered and then flitted away, Jace’ mind roiled into the thick haze of sleep.

So ending his first day on Aederon.

This novel is the work of Rhys Thomas. If you are reading this and it has not been published by Rhys Thomas, then this work has been stolen. Please report this to Amazon and me at email: [email protected]