I yawn, stretching my arms above my head.

Reaching over, I bring my hand down on my alarm.

When my fingers brush against a wooden wall instead of a alarm, my eyes snap open.

I go to sit up, but all I end up doing is wiggling my legs and arms around. I try and roll over to see what is wrong with me, but all I do is rock.

Then reality comes rushing back.

Right, baby.

I close my eyes, taking a few calming breaths. Once I have gotten used to the feeling of being trapped in my body, I open my eyes.

A face is hovering over me.

I glare at the pale face of Cal, his sharp features and brown stubble all too familiar. He reaches down, holding out a finger. “You have a nice dream, girlie?”

Promptly, I grab onto his finger and commence chomping on it, trying to chew it off in contempt. Don’t call me girlie. Feel my gummy wrath!

He grunts, picking me up with his good arm.

After we had escaped the ursa and gotten safely in the town, Cal and I were brought into a house. The village head’s house to be exact.

Cal wasn’t in good shape, and was incoherent for the past day, so they had stuck him in a bed and sent for the physician. They patched him up, “only with a bit of frostbite and a nasty scar” as he put it when they were done.

Somehow, impossibly, he is walking up. Of course, he looks incredibly sick and tired. He winces as he picks me up, keeping his bad arm in the sling the physician put it in.

Well, if he can control metal, I suppose it isn’t impossible that he has increased regentive powers.

A image of dear old daddy’s cut hand slowly knitting back together comes to mind. Though definitely not as advanced as that.

Cal limps out of the small corner that my cradle was resting in and over into the main living room. A large, square fire pit rests in the center, the smoke wafting away into the rafters and seeping through the thatch that makes up the roof.

The village head’s house is by far the largest, with three rooms. One used as his family’s bedroom and the other for storage. The third is the largest, being what I would guess is the “living” room.

Wooden log pillars rest at weight bearing places around the room, aligned with each of the four corners. Benches sit around the fireplace, a kettle being licked at by the flames. Shadows are thrown over the walls, which makes the village head’s face look even older.

He looks up as we approach. Standing up, he motions to a bench to the left.

“Please, sit. We have much to discuss. Would you like some tea?” he asks in a homely tone.

Cal nods.

Grabbing the handle of the kettle with a mitt, he sets it down and shuffles away into the house. Coming back shortly, he puts down two wooden cups and pours them full of tea.

He sets one down next to Cal, sitting back down and wrapping his hands around the wooden cup. The village chief is a middle aged man, his blonde hair streaked with gray and his face craggy, his skin tough from constant cold.

He looks Cal in the eyes, “I’ll not beat around the bush. What brings one of the Djinni all the way up here? With a baby, no less.”

Cal bounces me on his knee and I gurgle at him to stop. He takes a sip of the steaming tea, smacking his lips and saying finally, “You can tell?”

The elder snorts and motions at Cal, “If the bag of metal wasn’t a hint, you standing a day later is proof enough.”

Cal shrugs, “I’ve invested a bit into Constitution.”

The chief glares at Cal, “Why are you here?”

“That ursa, biggest one I’ve ever seen. Most aggressive one too, and out during the winter, no less. Brazen bastard too, attacked us on the road just a few miles from here. Has it been attacking all the travelers headed this way?” Cal says, deflecting the question. I gurgle, trying to force my vocal chords to cooperate so I can tell the village chief that I’ve been kidnapped. It’s all for naught, though.

The chief nods, “Aye. Just a couple days ago, attacked a messenger. Tore him up good too, could barely recognize his crest, and the message was all but ruined. Crag’s been attacking any travelers of the roads around here, setting up his territory.”

Cal nods slowly, “Crag?”

“That’s what the guards are calling him, saying he’s got a thick, craggy stone hide and is a crank. Crag the crank.”

Cal leans forward a bit, covering a wince, “Well, that messenger was carrying the announcement of my coming here. It would have told you that I have been posted here for the definite future, so that Carlisle is ensured on its protection.”

The village head raises an eyebrow, leaning back and taking a sip of tea, “Now, why’s that?”

Cal stays silent for a second, sipping from his tea. I stare between the two, quite interested in this conversation. Cal speaks after a minute of tense silence, “Carlisle is on the border with Sosian, and the kingdom wants to ensure it is properly manned.”

The chief sits back, waving at me, “And the baby? I can guess what this is. You were exiled, so, whatcha ya do?”

Cal keeps his features schooled, “Soma would like to ensure that the border with Sosian is properly watched. My past is of no importance.”

The chief shrugs, “I suppose it’s not important. But I’ll tell you, folks ‘round here don’t take kindly to strangers, especially when they’re Djinni. So, I’d watch yourself, and that half-child of yours. They most definitely aren’t gonna like her.”

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Not like? Cal did say that elves weren’t well liked.

“Are you threatening me?” Cal asks, tensing up.

The chief shakes his head, pouring himself another cup of tea. “No, ‘course not. The people around here don’t like you Djinni for the fact that bad things always follow where your kind walks. Nothing good can come of exiling one all the way up here. And the stigma around elves has risen quite a bit recently, what with the rebellion.”

A rebellion? Like rebels?

Cal nods and takes a sip of the tea, setting it down next to him on the bench. He cradles me in his arm, but looks the chief straight in the eyes, “That is fine, I never expected to be welcomed with open arms, especially here. All I need is a cabin away from your village and I’ll not bother you. But if you ever threaten me or this child, I will make sure that before I die, you’re coming with me to the Black Gate.”

The blonde haired man gulps and nods stiffly, he takes a sip of tea, breathing slowly and watching Cal’s every move.

Dang, Cal’s ballsy. I hope this doesn’t come back to bite us. What’s the Black Gate?

Despite the fact that Cal is acting as my captor, I can’t help but like him. He doesn’t seem to want me dead, quite the opposite if our interaction with that whatever ursa is any proof.

Cal sits back, his expresion losing its hostility. He takes another sip of the tea, and I watch the chief closely. He glances between me and Cal, nervous. Probably wants us out of his hair.

Cal speaks after a few moments of awkward silence, “So, Crag. How long has he been attacking people on the road?”

The chief thinks for a minute, then says, “About a month. Came down from the mountains around the first snowfall, and has been stalking the wilds ever since. It’s a good thing that he didn’t arrive earlier, or our hunters wouldn’t have been able to gather any food for the winter. But the way it’s looking, we’re gonna be running short.”

“And you haven’t tried to send for help because he’s cut you off,” Cal nods, sipping from the steaming cup of tea.

The chief shrugs, “Wouldn’t matter if we could. Just ‘cause we are one of the farthest towns, doesn’t mean Everstar cares about a problem with an ursa. As long as he gets his metals, he couldn’t care less.”

Cal looks up, “And the ursa blocking the metals from getting out isn’t a problem?”

“We only send a shipment every two months, the paths up here are treacherous during the winter. We stick to the quota and make sure enough black steel is dug up and shipped off to him.”

Cal nods slowly, “Carlisle is a mining town, correct? You dig up black steel?”

“Aye, tha’ mountain ridges are chock full of it, if you know where to look. Make a decent wage off the stuff we dig up, with minimal risk of the Ancestors’ wrath.”

Cal tilts his head a little to the left, his eyes locking again on the chief, who is looking anywhere but at us. “The Ancestor's wrath?”

The chief nods slowly, a haunted expresion coming over his face. “Yes, if we are not careful, the spirits will get angry with us. We’ve lost many good men to the mines. It can be dangerous, but if yer careful, you can survive.”

“You’re saying some of the ruins are still active?”

The chief nods, “Aye.”

“Hmmm. Back to Crag,” Cal waves his hand, taking a sip of tea, “Did you open anymore mines recently?”

The village head thinks for a second, then speaks, “‘bout a month ago we stumbled across a new vein. Mined it a bit and accidently opened one of the Ancestors’ tombs. The miners, being greedy fools, decided to take a look around. Disturbed the Ancestors, they did, and they ran back to here. Lost one, though. You think Crag has something to do with this?”

Cal rocks me a little in his arm, thinking, “Perhaps. Did they take anything?”

The chief nods, standing up and shuffling out of the fire light. There’s a creak of hinges as he opens up the storage room, disappearing inside. After a few minutes, he comes out, shutting the door behind him. Shuffling up to Cal, he holds out his hand.

In his palm glints a scoffed bracelet of iron. Embedded in the center of it is a purple gem, glinting in the firelight. Strange silver scrawlings cover the surface of the iron, swirling around the gem.

Cal winces as he uses his bad arm to pick up the bracelet gingerly, inspecting it in the orange light. The small purple gem embedded in the iron seems to glow with a hidden power.

This is strange. Cal knows something, and what could these ruins be that are ‘active’? Strange word choice.

The chief speaks up again after a minute, “The fool miners say they snooped around a bit, then they heard screams. Old Gert was found dead near the entrance, with that bracelet on his wrist. The miners grabbed it and ran. Didn’t even bother looking back, they told me.”

Cal looks concerned, his brow furrowed as his eyes scan the bracelet. “And they gave this to you?”

The chief shrugs, “Well, no, sir. I bought it from them, as a gift to my wife for our anniversary. But…”

I can’t keep my eyes off the purple gem, the spirals of strange symbols undulating around it.

My captor looks up from the bracelet, setting it down in his lap next to me. “But what?”

The chief sighs, rubbing his brow, “It’s a strange thing. I just get the chills from it, might be the Ancestors. I decided it best to not give it away, just locked it in a chest and left it there. Though… sometimes I swear I hear it calling for me. Wanting me to put it on.”

With intense focus, I look at the metal bracelet, reaching out one of my hands to grab it up. I’m not listening to Cal’s conversation, my attention riveted on the strange jewel.

I move it clumsily around in my hands, the bracelet far too large for me.

“It calls to you?”

The chief nods, “Aye. I hear it whispering to me in my dreams. ‘Course, I know better than to listen to such a thing. I was going to sell it down in Lindow, but then Crag started attacking travelers.”

My tiny fingers brush the purple jewel, and I can feel something. Like a broken piece, something very similar to the longing I feel when I touch the hollowness in my chest.

“Did the miners tell you anything about how Gert died?” Cal asks with concern.

The chief taps his chin, “I think they said his eyes were glazed, and crying blood. Along with his nose, his face twisted in pain. Like his brain liquified. Do you know what could do that to a man?”

I stare at the purple gem, looking into its crystalline depths. I can sense something in there, something calling to me. Something to fill the hollowness left behind by my Djinn being removed.

Cal shrugs, “I’ve no clue. Perhaps it was the Ancestors, or something else.”

Looking intently into the gem’s depths, I think I see something move inside it.

At that moment, Cal looks down. He takes the bracelet from my hands, and I whine at him, reaching out for it. I need that!

He looks down at me in confusion, but keeps the bracelet, holding it up in front of the chief. “If you don’t mind, I think I should hold onto this. Just till we figure out what it is, and if its dangerous.”

The chief looks regretful, but nods. “So, yer thinking that Crag has something to do with the mine?”

Cal shakes his head, “No, seems unlikely. Just a coincidence. But back to business. I need a place to stay.”

The chief takes a sip of his now cool tea, “I think I can arrange some accommodations for you, but it isn’t going to be quality, and it will take sometime. It’ll be on the edge of the village, about half a mile.”

Cal nods, bowing with me in his arms. “Thank you, if you don’t mind, I think I should rest for a while more. Wake me when you get our accommodations in order.”

“Of course, I’ll get right to it.”

I gurgle in annoyance, my desire for the bracelet fading.

Cal walks back to the corner of the room, laying me back down in the wooden crib. He pockets the bracelet, groaning as he falls back into the fur covered bed.

I blink, yawning. What was that? I’m going to have to be careful around that bracelet. It was like it was trying to control me.

My eyelids fall down, and I find myself falling asleep soon after.