Jack’s body moved before his brain could process the situation. He felt the touch on his shoulder, and in an instant, he lurched forward, grabbing the person’s arm, twisting it sharply behind their back. The cry of pain was quick, followed by the scraping of chairs behind him. His other hand shot up, grabbing the person’s hair, spinning them around to use their body as a shield against what he thought was an attack.
It was only after his pulse began to slow and the haze of adrenaline started to clear that he realized what he had done. He blinked, staring at the young woman pinned in front of him, her arm still wrenched painfully against her back. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her face contorted in pain, though Jack couldn’t quite see it clearly.
Around him, the room was tense. At the dining table, Thali and Raor sat frozen, their small bodies shaking, wide-eyed and terrified by the sudden violence. Ruben stood, his hand resting on his sword hilt, flanked by three other men, their faces hard, watching Jack’s every move. And in the background, Charlet sat calmly, sipping from a wine glass. Jack couldn’t see her face, but he could feel her gaze on him, quiet and unbothered.
The woman in his grip whimpered again, and Jack’s heart dropped. He immediately released her, stepping back in one swift motion, letting her arm go. Jack stumbled back into the chair, his legs unsteady as he pushed himself away from the young woman, wincing as he realized what he had just done. His breath was ragged, and his heart sank deeper with each passing second.
"I'm so sorry," he stammered, his voice thick with embarrassment and regret. "I didn’t mean to do that. Not at all. I didn’t… I never meant to hurt nobody." His voice cracked slightly. "I’m sorry, ma’am. Truly. I reckon I just… I thought—" he trailed off, at a loss for how to explain his reaction.
He swallowed hard, his hands resting on his knees, trembling slightly. Here he was, a stranger in this town, a place that had given him refuge, and the first thing he did was assault one of its own. Jack shook his head, eyes glued to the floor, overwhelmed by the weight of his own mistake.
"I’m real sorry," he said looking up at the group. Reuben nodded and gestured for the boys to sit and Charlet laughed
“I told you it would be better to wake him up by throwing the biscuits at him, are you ok Julia? Come here let me check your arm,” she said laughing as she got up and touched Julia whispering [Pain Mangement]
She waved Jack over to the table, and he reluctantly took a seat near the two children, Thali and Roran. Thali looked at Jack with clear apprehension, her wide eyes filled with fear, while Roran's gaze held more admiration, his curiosity plain to see.
The children looked much better than before. Their small wounds had been patched up, and they were now dressed in clean clothes. Thali wore a small dress, her white bear ears and tail making her stand out, while Roran was dressed in a simple shirt and pants, both smooth and brown, matching his own bear ears and tail. Jack looked them over and still saw signs of fear and unease while thalia may be afraid of him, she still moved her chair closer to jack.
Jack glanced over at Ruben, who was casually sipping from a mug. Ruben caught Jack’s eye and nodded.
“Would ya like some, Jack? It’s Hard Snake Rum,” Ruben offered with a grin, the casualness of his gesture doing little to ease the tension that still lingered from earlier.
Jack hesitated for a moment, considering. He’d already made a rough first impression, and the last thing he wanted was to make things worse by refusin' the man’s hospitality. With a tight smile, Jack nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll take one. Thank ya.”
Ruben nudged one of the boys beside him, who had been eyein' Jack cautiously the whole time. The boy slowly got up, still starin’ Jack down, his gaze sharp but uncertain. Both of the young men were tall and broad, built a lot like their father. They looked to be in their early twenties, though they still had that hint of youth, like they were just gettin' used to their strength. The one who stood had a darker shade of brown hair, and unlike his father’s deep brown eyes, his were a striking blue.
“Sam, grab one for yourself and your brother while you’re at it,” Ruben called out, his tone easygoin’. Sam, the older of the two, gave a small wave of his hand, then walked toward the back of the house to fetch the drinks. He moved steady, strong, just like his father, though his blue eyes flicked back to Jack a few times, as if he was tryin’ to size him up.
Jack leaned back in his chair, tryin’ to shake off the lingering unease. He glanced at the two young men sittin’ near Ruben, then back at their father, offering a slight smile. “Your boys… they sure look a lot like ya,” Jack said.
Ruben chuckled, setting his mug down. “Yeah, they do. But their eyes—they get those from their mother. Both Sam and Lucas got her blue eyes.” His voice softened for a moment before he added, “But the rest? That’s all me. Used to drive her mad sometimes. She’d say she was outnumbered, with three of us actin’ like stubborn ol’ mules.”
Jack’s smile faded a little as he caught the change in Ruben’s tone. He hesitated, then asked quietly, “Where’s she now, if ya don’t mind me askin’?”
Ruben’s gaze dropped for a moment, and the room seemed to quiet. “She passed ‘bout five years ago,” he said, his voice softer now. “Sickness. We tried everythin’ we could, but there wasn’t much we could do, even with all the help we had.”
Jack dipped his head, his voice genuine. “I’m really sorry to hear that. Sounds like she was a good woman.”
Ruben gave a small nod, his voice a little rougher. “She was. I appreciate that, Jack.”
At that moment, Sam returned with the rum and a few mugs. He moved quietly, fillin’ each one and passin' them around. He handed one to his father, then Lucas, and finally to Jack. As Sam’s blue eyes met Jack’s, there was a brief moment of acknowledgment before he moved on.
After taking his seat, Sam raised his mug. “Here’s to Ma,” he said quietly, his voice steady.
The rest of them followed, raisin' their mugs in silent agreement. Jack lifted his own, noddin’ respectfully, and took a sip. The rum was spiced, with a warm, smooth taste to it—not as harsh as Jack had expected. As he swallowed, a pleasant heat tingled at the back of his throat. He had to nod in appreciation—it was as good, if not better, than most rums he’d tasted before.
As Jack took another sip, Charlet and Julia came out from the kitchen, carrying plates of food. Julia glanced nervously at Jack as she placed the dishes on the table, her movements careful. Jack looked at her, guilt still weighing on him. "I’m real sorry," he said softly. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."
Julia looked at Jack, her long brown hair framing her face, and Jack noticed her eyes—blue, just like Ruben’s boys. She didn’t respond verbally, but instead made a series of gestures with her hands. Jack recognized it as sign language but had no idea what she was saying.
Before Jack could ask, Charlet took the opportunity to chime in with a playful smirk. “She accepts your apology... and says you’re one of the hunkiest men she’s seen in a while. And if you want to—”
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Charlet yelped as Julia rushed over, smacking her on the arm in protest. Ruben and the boys erupted into laughter, and even Jack found himself smiling at the joke.
Jack chuckled, nodding his thanks. “Well, thank you for acceptin’ my apology, Julia,” he said, his voice sincere. Then he turned to Ruben, curiosity in his eyes. “Is Julia your daughter, Ruben?”
“Yes, she is,” Ruben said, his voice softening as he glanced at Julia. “She had an accident when she was young, lost her ability to speak. But thanks to Granny Charlet here, she found another way to communicate.”
Charlet let out an exaggerated growl. “I told you all to stop calling me that!” she shouted, though the teasing tone in her voice made it clear she didn’t really mind. Ruben and the boys just laughed, while Julia smirked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
As they all settled in to eat, Jack made sure to pass food to Thali and Roran, helping them with anything they pointed at, ensuring their plates were full. Though they weren’t related to anyone present, the warmth of the room gradually eased the tension they had carried. Thali, while still casting the occasional wary glance at Jack, began to relax in the welcoming atmosphere. Roran, on the other hand, warmed up more quickly, laughing and joining in on the stories shared by Ruben and his family. Charlet added her gentle presence to the mix, creating an aura of comfort that enveloped everyone.
Jack knew this was mostly for the kids—they needed the break after the difficult days they had endured. So, he played along, laughing and joking, though he was careful not to reveal much about himself. It wasn't hard to make light conversation, and for a while, he managed to push his own burdens aside for their sake.
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As the night wore on, the children grew drowsy. At Charlet's suggestion, Jack and Ruben’s daughter, Julia, gently carried Thali and Roran upstairs to another room where they could sleep peacefully. The small bear beastkin, their features softened by the firelight and their ears drooping in exhaustion, seemed far more at ease now than when they had first arrived.
Once the children were settled, Jack used the opportunity to slip away and check on Kaeden. He found the man sleeping peacefully, his breathing steady and his wounds no longer a cause for immediate concern. Adjusting the blanket over him, Jack allowed himself a moment of relief, knowing that at least for now, things were calm.
ack headed down the stairs and looked at Charlotte and Ruben. "I'm going to take a walk, if that's ok," he said, grabbing his cloak from the couch.
Ruben glanced at Charlotte, who smiled softly at Jack. "That's fine, just be careful. If you head out of the village, there's a ward keeping most wild monsters away, but it doesn't stretch that far," she said.
As Jack moved toward the door, he began walking out into the cool night. When he made it about ten feet away from the house, Ruben called out, “Hold on, Jack. Let me join you for a minute.” Ruben quickly covered the distance, surprising Jack with his speed for someone of his age.
Ruben stood beside him, and they began to walk together. The night was dark, and the only light came from the two moons above. Jack paused, staring up. One moon was full, white, and bright, similar to Earth's, while the other was a bit smaller and both were at half-moon phase, casting a soft glow over the landscape. Despite the moons being at half-phase, the night felt as if they were walking under a nearly full moon, the light casting long shadows.
Ruben followed Jack's gaze to the sky before looking at him with a curious expression, a quick but unreadable shift in his demeanor as they continued to walk in silence for a moment.
As they walked under the light of the two moons, Ruben broke the silence. “Jack, what’s your plan for the kids?” His voice was calm, but there was a weight behind his words.
Jack slowed his pace but kept moving, thinking carefully before he responded. “Well, I ain’t got much of a plan,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I’m gonna keep ‘em safe and, hopefully, get ‘em back to their clan.” He meant every word. The moment he had stepped in to protect Thali and Roran, he had taken on a responsibility that he couldn’t just walk away from. They were his to protect now.
Ruben nodded thoughtfully, casting a sidelong glance at Jack. “I’m glad to hear that. Charlotte said it would be your decision, but I’ve never been one to leave things to chance.” His tone was steady, but there was a subtle intensity in his gaze. They continued to walk, the house and its lights fading into the background as the soft glow of the moons bathed the surrounding landscape. Despite the tranquility of the night, there was an unspoken tension hanging in the air between them.
After a few moments of silence, Ruben spoke again, his voice lower but more serious. “I hope you can trust us, Jack. Slavery has been outlawed by the Seven Families for over four decades now. The beastkin despise it, and the Skylifts want nothing to do with it either. The Dreski... well, they still allow it, but that’s a distant, fractured place. When I say you’re safe here, I mean it.” Ruben’s words were direct, meant to calm some of the unease Jack might still be feeling, but they also carried an edge of conviction.
Jack exhaled softly, appreciating the reassurance. “Well, I reckon I’ll hold ya to that. Just keep it in mind, though, in case some group rolls in and tries to give y’all trouble,” Jack added with a slight grin, half-joking.
Ruben’s laugh echoed in the quiet night. “We’re tougher than you think, Jack. We’ve survived bandits, goblins, and monsters for over a hundred years since this village was founded. We’ll get through whatever comes our way.” He clapped Jack on the back, the friendly gesture firm but reassuring.
The two men continued walking for a while longer, comfortable in the shared silence. Ruben eventually broke it again, his tone shifting to one of warning. “I’m heading back now, but don’t wander too close to the lake. There’ve been some Fin Stalkers seen around lately. Nasty things. They like to creep close to the village and ambush anything—kids, pets—that strays too far from the village proper.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, looking at Ruben. “Fin Stalkers, huh?”
Ruben nodded. “Stealthy, agile predators. They’re tough to spot unless you know what to look for, and they’ll strike when you least expect it. Just be on guard if you go near the lake, especially at night.”
Jack nodded, appreciating the warning. “Well, I’ll be sure to steer clear. Thanks, Ruben.”
With a final nod, Ruben turned and made his way back toward the village, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts under the pale glow of the moons. The night, though calm, seemed to carry an underlying sense of danger. Jack watched Ruben’s figure disappear into the darkness, his mind now more alert to the possibilities of what lurked beyond the safety of the village.
Jack walked for another five minutes, the night stretching on in silence before he finally spoke again. "Everon, you there?" he asked, his voice tentative as he waited for a response from his elusive, phantom passenger. Seconds ticked by, and with each one, Jack's unease grew. The familiar wind that had been rustling through the trees just moments before suddenly stopped.
Looking around, he noticed something strange—everything was gone. The moons, the lake, the village lights, all of it had vanished, leaving only a black void in their place. His heart began to race, a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. As the eerie silence pressed in, Jack’s thoughts churned, his breath catching in his throat. Then, cutting through the tension, he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Jack, I thought you had forgotten about me," Everon’s voice chimed, calm yet unsettling.
Jack slowly turned to face her. She wore the same outfit as usual—a long black gown that seemed to flow like liquid shadows, her pointed witch’s hat perched elegantly on her head. But it was the throne that drew his attention now. It looked as though it had been forged from darkness itself, black as night, with smooth, swirling shapes that gave the impression it had been melted into its current form. Tendrils of shadow curled and twisted from its base, as though it were alive, pulsing with an otherworldly energy. The armrests seemed to drip, like molten tar, but solidified just before touching the ground.
Everon sat in the throne with regal ease, her eyes locking onto Jack’s. There was something different about her this time. She looked more vivid, more alive. Her skin, pale and luminous, stood out in sharp contrast to the dark void around them. Her smile was bright, almost too bright, and carried a vivid hunger that sent shivers down Jack’s spine.
“No, I bloody didn’t! Why the hell do I have the head?” Jack growled, yanking the thing out of his bag. The severed head of Varkas, one of the slavers, dangled for a moment. Jack's frustration was palpable.
Eveon casually waved her hand, and the head floated out of his grip, landing softly on a table that seemed to form from nowhere.
“Fine, we’ll get the business out of the way first,” Eveon said, her voice calm as she flicked her fingers. A pen floated into view, unlike any Jack had ever seen. Its body was made of a polished, obsidian-black material that seemed to shimmer faintly under the light. Fine silver filigree spiraled down the length of the pen, forming intricate patterns that gave it an air of elegance and mystery. The grip was subtly textured, with gentle indentations that hinted at a perfect fit for his hand. Embedded just beneath the surface, a small emerald glowed faintly, its light pulsing softly as if alive.
The nib itself was crafted from a silvery metal, razor-sharp and precise, gleaming with the promise of perfect strokes. As Jack reached out and grasped it, he was surprised by the warmth that radiated from the pen, almost as if it had been waiting for his touch. The weight was balanced, neither too light nor too heavy, and it sat in his palm as though it had been custom-made for him.
Jack turned the pen over in his hand, feeling the subtle craftsmanship, his brow furrowing deeper with confusion. “What am I meant to be doing with this?” he muttered, his tone laced with suspicion.
Eveon simply smiled, her eyes gleaming as another head, an illusionary one, floated up next to Varkas’s. Slowly, inscriptions began carving themselves into the forehead, swirling around in an intricate, almost ritualistic pattern that connected in a strange, wired circle. It looked disturbingly like a twisted tattoo.
Jack's gut churned as a sickening feeling washed over him. He glanced back at the pen in his hand, unease gnawing at him, unsure of what he was being pulled into.
“You need information, and given your... limited magical capabilities, this is the easiest method,” Eveon said with a sly smile, her tone calm yet condescending. The words seemed to float effortlessly from her lips, dripping with a confidence that grated on Jack. His stomach twisted as her intent became clear—she wanted him to carve those runes into the flesh.
Jack’s grip tightened on the pen, his breath catching for a moment. His face twisted in disgust as the realization hit him. He breathed in deeply, trying to steady himself, then exhaled, but it didn’t ease the sickness churning in his gut. The idea of slicing those unnatural markings into a corpse, one that was already haunting him by being in his possession, made his skin crawl.
His eyes darted between the pen, glowing faintly with that ominous green gem, and the eerie floating head with the grotesque, slowly forming symbols. It wasn’t just the act she was asking of him, it was the sheer cruelty of it—the invasive, twisted nature of the magic. His voice came out low, edged with revulsion.
“You want me to carve him up? Do I look like some kind of demented maniac?” Jack growled, his voice heavy with rage. Killing someone was one thing, but this? Mutilating a corpse? That was a step too far.
Eveon’s smile widened, a smug smirk that only served to infuriate him more. “My dear Jack, whatever is the matter? You can take a life with such ease, yet a little carving makes you queasy?” she drawled, her voice light and condescending, like a lady at a garden party. “I had imagined you had more fortitude. I was mistaken.”
“Why the hell do you think I’d be okay with this? Killin’ is one thing—carvin’ up a body is a whole other deal,” he snarled, fists clenched at his sides. “I got lines, and this? This crosses ‘em. I ain’t some sick freak that’s gonna hack into a corpse just ‘cause you ask.” His rage simmered the sharp edge in his voice showing that while Jack had seen and done a lot, this was something he wouldn’t budge on.
She let out a full laugh this time, clearly entertained by Jack’s anger. “Oh, darling, you’re so delightfully serious. It’s almost adorable!” Her eyes gleamed with amusement as if the whole situation were nothing more than a game to her. “Well, Jack, just out of curiosity do you normally carve into things with a pen? Or perhaps, you’re more accustomed to writing with it, hmm?”
Jack clenched his jaw, his frustration boiling over as Eveon’s laughter echoed in his ears. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, his fingers gripping the pen a little too tightly. With a reluctant sigh, he turned toward the table with the head on it, narrowing his eyes at it. He brushed the pen slowly across the cheek with green ink following form it jack sighed and began the long process of tracing the runes onto his head