The butcher had calmed down enough for them to get the full story out of him, but the commander in charge of this recruiting squad was only left with more questions.

“I do remember someone mentioning a young woman had been found about a week ago. But Owen has testified that she was a rabid wild animal, no, a monster. You’re telling me she slept in your home for a week with no issues?”

“Do I look like the sort of madman who would keep a monster in my house to ya? You have my word of honor, every word I said to you here is true.” The look of indignation at the fact that he was still being doubted was clear on the butcher’s face despite his lingering fear.

“Truth be told, I don’t know why or how you could lie about that. But then—why? What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. I take it ya man had nothing strange about him either?”

“No, not a thing. He was a recruit like any other, used to be a forestman some hundred or two kilometers north of here. On the edge of the Perien forest, like you. Only thing of note was that he was a little full of himself.”

…

The hunger woke Idelle again. Or maybe it wasn’t hunger? She didn’t know any more. Her head was fuzzy again, it seemed to be that way more and more often. Like she was still asleep. She raised her head and looked around. Where was he?

“Damon? Hungry. Any more?”

He came through the doorway a few seconds later and she caught the tail end of his words.

“...knew such a big eater…”

Oh. Was he talking about her? She should apologize.

“S-sorry. I'm just hungry.”

He snorted at that. “You’re sick too. Eat. You found it anyway.”

She didn’t understand that, something she was beginning to grow used to. Found what? The food? She didn’t let it bother her. She was eating, that was the important thing. Eat, and get her strength back. That must be why she still felt hollow. She was weak. Too weak. It wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right, it was wrong.

She didn’t like that wrongness.

He had another big bowl of the delicious soup. She liked that. She’d never tasted anything better than the soup. When she was drinking it, she felt like she was finally herself again. Like she was whole again. Like her missing pieces had been filled in.

What missing pieces?

“Here.” Damon handed her the bowl with a wistful smile on his face. At least she thought it was wistful. She couldn’t tell sometimes. It didn’t matter.

She tipped the bowl back and drank, and drank, and drank. Something inside her squirmed and repositioned itself, and she was suddenly aware of just how weak and empty her limbs felt. But she couldn’t stop drinking until she’d finished it—the fluid was too delicious! She had to get every drop. She didn’t even think she needed to breathe while she was drinking it, that’s how good it was.

Finally, the wonderful warmth flowing down her throat slowed to a trickle and dried up. The bowl dropped onto her lap as she let the strength go out of her hands. She should thank Damon, he was giving her so much of this amazing food. She turned to him and smiled as wide as she could.

“Thanks.”

He snorted. “Ain’t a problem. One second.” He took the bowl, and came back a minute later to set it, newly full again, on a little table she saw was next to her bed. So smart! Now she could eat next time without bothering him. She smiled and thanked him again.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Still don’t remember ya name?” The words took her by surprise.

“But, I’m Idelle? You said…”

“No, ya **** name.” She blinked in confusion. What?

“I’m Idelle.”

Damon's face fell into a complicated expression. She must have done something wrong. Ugh.

“Sorry…”

He sighed and smiled at her again. “Ts’ all good. Not ya f****”

What was that last bit? Fault? It wasn’t her fault? Then why did he look disappointed?

She resolved to make it up to him, one way or another. She owed him a lot. But for now, she needed to sleep more. The wrongness was creeping back again. When she was herself again, she could help him.

…

Something was really wrong this time. Not just with her, something was wrong with Damon. Instead of bringing her that amazing food like normal, she could hear his voice raised. He sounded angry. How she wished she could understand!

She’d help him regardless. She’d just have to figure it out as she went.

Then she heard it. Another voice. Unfamiliar. Who?

She pulled the blankets off herself for the first time in - how long had it been? How long had she been here? She didn’t know. Where was here anyway?

No, focus. Even if she wasn’t strong again yet; if Damon needed something she should help. She owed him, right?

Slowly, gingerly, Idelle sat up and dangled her feet off the side of the bed. Her body felt strange to her as if it belonged to someone else. It wouldn’t be a problem. She slid a little further until her feet touched the floor, then calmly, naturally, walked over to the door. She pulled it open.

The room that met her eyes was small, like the one she was in, but with different furniture. Her eyes took in a counter, several racks of drying meat and pelts, and a few chairs. Some blankets were left messily in the corner, and two men were arguing across the counter. One of them was Damon, but the other was unfamiliar, tall and young. What did this guy think he was doing?

“Who are you?” Her voice startled the pair, and they turned to face her. Damon’s look of surprise quickly turned into a slight smile, and she smiled back, as wide as she could manage. But before either of them could speak they were cut off by the stranger.

“Hah? I’m a ********* ********, and who are YOU?” Idelle didn’t like him. She didn’t like his tone. He was the one causing problems for Damon, wasn’t he?

“I’m Idelle. Leave.”

Both men flinched back a little at the antipathy in her words.

“Idelle, it’s good. Go sleep more.” Damon’s words were reassuring, but he still sounded a little nervous. Her eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. Wrong. Very wrong. Her body felt weird. Worse than the normal hollow weirdness. And something smelled good, and it was distracting her.

“No. You, leave.”

The man gave a snort of laughter without any humor in it and said something. She couldn’t understand it. Argh! She took another step forward and bared her teeth at him.

“Leave!”

The man ignored her, turning to Damon and saying something in the same nasty tone as before. Damon replied quickly and came over to her, looking angry. What had the other man said to upset him?

“Idelle. It’s good. I can ****** this.” His voice was reassuring, and she hesitated. Was she confused? But the feeling of wrongness was still building, like a simmering pressure hiding inside her. She forced it back and smiled at Damon. She should stop talking for now, figure it out.

Despite that, he frowned and gestured at the door she had come through. She shook her head. She wasn’t going anywhere until—

The stranger interrupted before either of them could speak again. She didn’t need to understand the words to know he was annoyed. Damon, exasperated, turned to him and responded, sounding annoyed in turn. The stranger turned to look at her, surprised for a moment, then snorted. He came around the counter and walked up to them.

“Oi, Idelle, didn’t your parents ***** *** *******?” Her name sounded like a curse in his mouth. What was his problem? Damon started to say something but Idelle just snarled at the stranger. He laughed in response, then turned to Damon and said something. Damon’s eyes widened a little, but he nodded after a moment’s hesitation. He responded, gesturing at his head in a little circle. Was he making fun of the stranger? What was it that smelled so good?

Maybe nothing was wrong after all? The pressure pounded slowly inside her. The tall man turned to her.

“Come, you.”

She understood that. No way. She shook her head. His brows tightened into a scowl, and he repeated his demand. She shook her head again, harder. She wasn’t going!

Then, he stepped forward and grabbed her shoulder, and all the pressure inside her exploded in an instant. She moved, feeling faster than she’d ever felt before, lunging forward on instinct without a moment of hesitation, and for a moment she seemed to feel something more wondrous than even Damon’s soup. Then every part of her body seemed to twist inside itself and an agony like nothing she’d ever felt dropped her instantly into a black void of unconsciousness.