"What's your name?" the lead ranger asked, riding beside Irwin.

Irwin hesitated for only a moment before responding. "Irwin."

There was a moment of silence. Then the rangers began talking all at once.

"You're Bronwyn's brother?"

"That's impossible! Look at him! Bronwyn's brother was a runt!"

"Bronwyn's almost as big… Perhaps he needed some time to grow?"

"Where have you been?"

"Did you escape the sorcerers?"

"Where are the others?"

Irwin's mind froze as he heard his brother's name amidst the sudden cacophony of voices.

"Bronwyn is alive?" he asked, nearly shouting.

"Yes, he is," one of the riders said, while the others nodded.

Irwin let out a whoosh of air as a tense, coiled-up fear unwound from his stomach.

"My mother?" he asked.

The ranger shook his head. "Sorry, I've got no idea. I don't know Bronwyn that well."

Irwin looked around, but the others just shook their heads.

"Alright, I'll find out when I arrive," he said as he noticed that the lead ranger was staring at him intently, scanning his face as if trying to find something.

"I think I can see it," the man said, frowning. "The shape of the eyes and the chin, but how did you change this much? What kind of card does this?"

Irwin tried to suppress his worry about his mother's well-being. "Do I know you?" he asked.

The ranger laughed sadly, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess I changed even more. Well, this is going to be awkward. I'm Bast," he said, giving Irwin a sad grin.

Irwin stared back in stunned silence. Bast? The brawny kid with the squeaky voice that had bullied him back in school? That made him, what, sixteen, seventeen? Why did he look like he was in his thirties?

"Yeah…" Bast said, rubbing his beard. "I guess that look makes sense. "It's a long story, but… well, not too long after you left, the portals began popping up around here. Dad had given me another card, and I had to join the Rangers. For a while, things went alright, but after a few months, some of the others and I got trapped in a portal."

"Come on, do you have to tell this? I hate being reminded of it," one of the riders grunted.

Bast ignored him and sighed. "Do you know how some portals have time dilation?"

"Yes," Irwin said.

"I guess you would," Bast muttered, and Irwin saw his eyes land on his hands before he shook his head and looked ahead at Malorin. "Well, we were stuck there for close to twenty years, trying to find the linchpin."

Irwin saw the pain in the other's eyes as he looked up at the city, seemingly lost in thought.

"It's just him and me that managed to get out," the other ranger muttered.

Irwin tried to picture being locked in a shardworld for that long and shivered.

"Imps or Galubs?" he asked. There was no way they would have survived the Nyzir.

"Galubs," Bast said. "It was an uncommon portal, so the worst were two-horned ones. When we finally found the linchpin, we were down to four."

Irwin looked at Bast, unable to picture him as the young bully.

"Did anyone else in our class survive?" Irwin asked as he recalled the different people.

Bast sighed, shaking his head. "Only a few. Clarissa and Endil were the only ones who returned from those who left with you to the sorcerer towers. Her uncle, Sorcerer Doukyser Uldrot, brought her back a month or so later, and she said everyone else had died."

Irwin continued ahead, absently rubbing the side of the Charbull as he remembered things from long ago.

"So, did anyone else from your group make it?" Bast asked after a while.

"Greldo's alive," Irwin said as he continued ahead.

"He is?" Bast nearly shouted in surprise. "How come you two survived? You both only had one card, and yours was bad, wasn't it?"

Something about the last bit caused something to click in Irwin's mind, and he suddenly saw the shadow of Bast, the bratty bully. He grinned.

"Yeah, and we were both small and weak," he added.

Some of the surrounding rangers began laughing, and one beside Bast prodded him with his bow. Irwin saw it was all good-natured.

Bast grimaced and looked down. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine," Irwin said.

Bast turned to Myda. "Are you also from Malorin?" he asked.

"No, I'm from Degonda," she said. "Just acting as a guide, nothing more."

"You look familiar," one of the rangers said. "Is it possible that I've seen you before?

Myda looked over at him and shrugged. "Perhaps. Have you ever been to-"

Irwin tuned them out as he stared at Malorin. At their current pace, reaching it would take a while, and he checked out the new walls and the larger gate.

They continued walking for a while, and eventually, the rangers got tired of asking Myda about Degonda and fell quiet.

As things quieted down, Irwin inspected the rangers. Many of them were thin, their eyes heavily lidded from too little sleep. They looked almost as bad as some of the people he'd seen in Degonda.

"So, Irwin… what's with the charbull?" a ranger asked.

Irwin looked up, noticing many of the riders were staring at him.

"It came running out of Gloomforrest," Irwin said.

"It's gotta be one of Bjurn's," another of the riders said, getting a round of agreed mutterings.

"Are you alright with Bjurn taking a look when we return to see if it's one of his? I'm sure he'd be grateful if you could return it if it were," the leader said.

Irwin looked at the charbull, calm and trudging beside him, and nodded. Although he'd saved the bull, he had no intention of keeping it.

"That's fine, he said. "So, what happened to the Shadedeers?"

There was a round of grunts and pained laughter from the riders while Bast sighed and shook his head.

"We don't know. A few months ago, the creatures in the forest started acting weird, and a whole group of Shadedeers fled in the middle of the night. Your brother followed them, but they continued beyond what was safe to follow," Bast said.

I guess we found some of those then, Irwin thought as he glanced at the forest to their left.

A good while later, they finally reached the hardened path that led up to Malorin's gate, and Irwin saw dozens of rangers on the walls and towers staring at them. Bast and the riders dismounted, walking the last distance on foot.

Irwin still had questions, but he found all he really wanted now was to see his family. One side of the gate slowly swung open, and four armed guards stepped forward. Their sharp eyes flitted from Irwin to Myda.

"Bast, who do you have here?" one of them asked.

"A ranger from Degonda and Bronwyn's brother," Bast said.

The guards froze and shared quick looks before turning to Myda.

"You are from Degonda?" the one who spoke before asked, ignoring Irwin.

"I am," Myda said.

"Then you are going to have to come with us. Lord Rhym will need to speak to you!" the guard said as he walked forward, followed by the other three.

Wait, Lord Rhym? Irwin thought, suddenly realizing Bast had said the same. Bryn wasn't a lord… he was his old teacher and the father of the current smith. How could he be the Lord?

"We haven't had any news from anywhere in ages."

"Is Degonda still doing alright?"

" Do you have any news on the other cities?"

Myda held up her hands, quieting the guards. "I'll answer your questions while we walk, alright? In exchange, can someone bring Irwin to his brother?"

The lead guard looked at Irwin before turning to the rangers. "Bast, can you take care of this?"

“Yes Lordling Rolkur,” Bast said, sounding slightly annoyed.

There was a muffled grin from the surrounding rangers while Irwin wondered who Rolkur was. The name seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember who it was.

Lord Rhym and Lordling Rolkur? What is going on here, he thought as he looked closer at what he guessed was the leader of this squad of guards. There was nothing familiar about the man, but more importantly, he didn't have any of the family symbols of the lords of Malorin on his leather jerkin.

I'll ask Bronwyn, he thought, and that simple thought made him feel incredible.

"Come find me when you're done talking with Lord Rhym," he said as he nodded at Myda.

"I will," Myda said as she followed the guards.

They were barely twenty feet away before they began asking her a barrage of questions.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

"I guess a lot is different now, isn't it?" Bast asked as he handed his Cindermare's reigns to another ranger.

"More walls, new squares," Irwin said before turning to the Charbull. "Take care and stay out of Gloomforrest," he said, rubbing the massive neck.

The Charbull snorted out a plume of superheated smoke. There was a worried hiss, but Irwin ignored it as the smoke trickled around Irwin's chest and neck pleasantly.

"Don't worry, I'll get him safely to the merchant's quarters," one of the rangers said quickly, looking at Irwin's chest and neck.

"Thanks," Irwin said.

Bast and he walked away, heading across the main road which wound through the new buildings.

Bast didn't say much, which Irwin was fine with. The first part of the city was completely new, with buildings looking surprisingly clean and well-made.

"Sorcerer Uldrot brought a few uncommon and one rare building card," Bast said as he waved at the buildings. "It's incredible what you can do with those."

Irwin nodded, and they continued quietly across a square until they reached the old wall. The gates were wide open, and there were no guards, but it looked well-maintained. Irwin examined the familiar cobblestone streets and familiar sandy paths on the other side. A long burn mark across one of the buildings drew his eye, and he frowned.

"They came through?" he asked.

"Yeah," Bast said. "It was pretty bad. We lost over a hundred people that evening, and if Sorcerer Uldrot hadn't brought those cards so we could expand and improve the wall, we might never have held on this long."

Irwin nodded as he walked towards Ratdistrict.

"Where are you going?" Bast asked in surprise.

Irwin stopped and looked back. "Bronwyn isn't home?"

Bast grimaced and shrugged. "Right, I forgot you used to live in the Ratdistrict. No, he has a place behind the old crafters square now."

I guess that makes sense, Irwin thought as he turned and headed in that direction.

It didn't take long for them to reach it, and with Bast's directions, they eventually reached a small, two-story home snugly nestled between two others. Waste and debris lay stacked high between them, flies moving about, while the narrow alleyway ended in a dead-end a few houses further.

"I'm not sure he's home," Bast said. "If he's not, I'll take you to the Rangers Tower."

Irwin nodded as he walked up to the door, staring at the dark, smooth wood. As he raised his hand to knock, he felt a knot in his stomach. Would his mother be here, or would only Bronwyn have survived?

There was a hollow knock as he hit the door.

"Coming!"

Irwin had no difficulty recognizing Bronwyn's voice, and he took a slight step back. He felt a sudden calm come over him. Whatever had happened, his brother was alive. Part of him wondered if Bronwyn would even recognize him or if he'd be surprised by some towering metal stranger before his door.

The door was forced open, creaking and protesting by a young, curly-haired woman.

"Hi," she said hesitatingly before turning to Bast. "Bast?"

For one moment, Irwin thought they had the wrong house and that he'd imagined his brother's voice. Then, a hulking man with brown hair and massive shoulders walked up behind the young woman. He was almost as tall as Irwin was, and he looked at Irwin in surprise.

As soon as Irwin met the other man's brown eyes, he recognized him. Although he was older, had a well-trimmed brown beard, and was almost twice as thick and wide as the last time he saw him, he realized he would recognize his brother anywhere.

"Hey, Bronwyn," Irwin said, grinning wider. "Don't tell me, you-"

Bronwyn surged past the young woman, and suddenly Irwin was wrapped in strong arms, and then he was hugging his brother.

"Irwin… you're alive," Bronwyn whispered. "We thought you were lost. Killed for the benefit of those bastards in the towers."

Irwin hugged his brother back, a sense of incredible relief and joy filling him. He noticed the young woman stood behind them, smiling at him and rubbing at her eyes.

"Irwin?" a familiar, older voice came down the hallway. Irwin's head came up with a snap as he looked behind the younger woman to see his mother limping forward, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. She was carrying a softly struggling baby.

"Mom…" Irwin whispered, barely noticing how Bronwyn stepped aside. "Mom!" he said again.

His mother expertly hobbled further, barely seeming to notice how the young woman took the gurgling and squealing baby. Irwin stepped into the hallway, amazed at how tiny his mother looked. The last he'd seen of her, she had been almost as tall as Bronwyn. Now, she was over two heads shorter than him.

"I made it back," he said, noting the tears that were slowly streaming across his mother's face. She reached out an arm, making a grabbing motion, and Irwin walked forward, leaning down. His mother wrapped an arm around his neck and put her head in his chest, and Irwin heard her softly cry.

"Where were you, foolish boy?" she whispered. "I almost died of worry."

Irwin shook his head, holding his mother. Suddenly, he realized that, for now, everything was alright. His mother was alive, his brother was alive, and he was alive.

Bast cleared his throat. "Enjoy your reunion. I think Lord Rhym will probably want to see you soon, but for now, he should be busy with your ranger friend. I'll try and keep them away for a while."

Irwin didn't hear Bronwyn's reply, but a few moments later, his brother closed the door.

"Mom, Carla, let's go to the kitchen so we can sit," Bronwyn said softly.

Irwin nodded, but as he released his mother, she gripped his hand, not letting him move away. She stared at him with red, tear-filled eyes set in her familiar stern face, scanning his face almost as if she wanted to engrave it in her mind. Then she nodded.

"Yes. I need to sit down before I fall over."

Irwin smiled as she turned and hobbled down the hall to an open door, showing no sign of falling over.

"She's fine," Bronwyn whispered as he walked beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. "Come, let's sit."

They walked into a kitchen at least five times as large as the one in their old house. There was a heavy and probably expensive table on one side and a long beam near the ceiling. A five-foot-tall Owl was perched there, staring at Irwin intently.

Glint, Irwin thought, staring at his brother's summon. It had grown!

After a few moments, he looked around the kitchen, noting all the unfamiliar things and a door leading to another room.

Still, although much was different, within moments, Irwin recognized his mother's touch. A bowl of water for cleaning stood on one side, and a corner was dedicated to taking off and cleaning boots. Without even thinking about it, he walked there, put his backpack on the ground, and took off his boots. Then he dumbly stared at his incredibly filthy bare feet, unwashed in weeks, and hesitated.

"It's fine," his mother exclaimed. "I'll worry about filthy feet later. For now, sit down! I… I… “

Irwin saw how she sat in her chair, staring at him and barely seeing him. He walked forward and carefully sat down on one of the large, heavy chairs.

"Don't worry. If they can hold me, they should be able to hold you," Bronwyn said as he crossed his arms and looked at him.

Irwin looked at Bronwyn's massive arms, the backside covered in thick, coarse hair.

"Yeah… you're a bit bigger than I remember," he said.

Bronwyn's eyes widened as he looked back, and there was a moment of silence. Then his brother burst out in a booming laughter. Irwin saw his mother shake her head, smiling brightly.

After a short while, Bronwyn regained his calm.

"How did you survive? What happened?" Bronwyn asked.

"Where were you?" his mother whispered.

Irwin cringed at the hurt in her voice, especially because he knew his priority had not been coming back. At least, not at first.

"That's going to be a long story," he said softly. "Before we do, I need to ask a few questions. I need to do that before Lord Rhym comes to ask his questions."

"Don't you cause trouble," his mother said. "Without Rhym, we would not have been here, and he paid… well, more than most- more than us for it."

Irwin saw his mother's eyes turn wet again, and he quickly nodded. "Of course. I didn't mean anything with it."

His mother's snort showed she didn't believe him, but it made the next onset of crying disappear.

"How come he is the Lord now? What happened since I was gone?" Irwin asked.

Bronwyn hummed as he put his arms on the table. "Lots of bad things," he said. "A few weeks after you were taken, portals appeared on the edge of Gloomforest. Before we could close them all, a surge of Nyzir came out. We were, let's call it lucky, that there were only a few dozen. Had there been more, that would have been the end of us. As it was, those shadow buggers made their way across the walls as if they weren't there and into the old inner castle."

Irwin grimaced. That couldn't have ended well.

"The nobles, to their credit, gave as good as they got," Bronwyn said. "When the other rangers and I arrived, only three Nyzir remained, but all the nobles were dead. Even then, those three Nyzir managed to take out a lot of rangers before we killed them."

Irwin sighed as he saw the sad looks of the people around the table. The young woman, Carla, his brother had called her, was staring at him curiously, gently jostling the quiet baby. Irwin blinked, then looked at her, the baby, then back at Bronwyn.

His brother's frown vanished, replaced by a grin so wide Irwin thought he could hear his cheeks crack.

"Irwin, meet my soulmate, Carla, and our son…" his brother blinked, then hesitated as he rubbed his chin. "Well… Uhm…”

"Ah, don't make such a problem of it," his mother said. "They called the child Irwin in honor of you, but he's only a month old, so there's no reason not to change that!"

Irwin leaned back, staring at the baby, then back at his brother in disbelief.

"You named your son after me?" he whispered.

"It was her idea," Bronwyn said, smiling at Carla.

"Not a difficult one, with how much you talked about him," the young woman said. "It's a good thing you are this big because with how highly he spoke of you, I'd expected as much. Besides, he's called Irwin Drum Roddington. We can just call him Drum from now on."

Irwin stared at Carla, noticing she was pretty, with very light brown eyes and darker brown hair and eyebrows. He was impressed at how in-stride she took everything.

"Thank you," he said, feeling both uncomfortable, happy, and honored all at the same time at having someone named after him. Besides, he knew it had been because they had believed him dead, and that saddened him.

"Alright, I need to know a few things quickly," he said. "Besides Rhym, are there any other people in charge?"

"Why would you need to-" his mother began.

"Everyone listens to Lord Rhym except for Sorcerer Uldrot, who is somewhat of an advisor to Rhym," Bronwyn said. "You will probably remember his cousin, Clarissa?"

Irwin nodded, thinking quickly. Depending on what Myda was telling him, Lord Rhym would hopefully be ready and willing to prepare for an evacuation. Hopefully.

"I have no idea why all these things are important," his mother said as she restlessly tapped the ground with her cane. "But I want to know what happened! I can barely believe I'm seeing you here, alive and… What happened to your eyes? Why do you gleam like one of Endil's chest plates?"

"And how did you get this big?" Bronwyn added, grinning widely before turning to Carla. "You have any questions for him?"

Carla smiled, but before she could say something, little Drum decided he'd been nice and quiet long enough. A soft crying came from the waddled-up baby, and Carla's smile faded as she looked down. "I'll go and feed him," she said hesitantly.

Bronwyn nodded as he got up, staring at one of the cupboards. "I think there's still some dried meat from yesterday. Eat it, or-"

"No, Bron, you need that. There could be a portal again at any moment, and you will need your strength," Carla said.

Irwin saw them stare at each other, and he quickly rose and walked to his backpack. Although he'd needed some of the rations he'd brought, Trimdir had given him more than enough to get here and back.

"Here," he said, taking out the rations he had left and putting them on the table one at a time, quickly creating a small pile.

"Thank Yilda," his mother whispered. "Look, Carla, fruit! It will help your milk production!"

Irwin blinked, then quickly picked out the dried fruit and some meat and handed it to Carla, who was looking at the food as if she'd never seen any before. Drum's crying intensified, almost as if he realized something was happening, and Carla snapped out of it.

"Thank you," she whispered, nodding as she turned and disappeared through the other door.

Irwin took another bit of meat and handed it to his mother.

"No, I'm fine," she said, shaking her head. "It's better we save it for Bronwyn and Carla and you now!"

"Eat," Irwin said as he held the meat before her. "I need to tell you something, and you're going to need your strength."

His mother stared at him, then at the meet, and finally, hesitantly accepted it.

Irwin sat back down, took a piece of dried meat, and pushed another to Bronwyn, who took it without comment.

"Should we wait for Carla?" he asked.

"No, it will take her a while to feed Ir-... Drum, and she will need to rest after that," Bronwyn said.

"Alright, then I'll explain a bit about what happened to me, but because I don't know how much time we have, I'll not go into too many details, and I'll need to skip much. I promise, when we have more time, I'll tell you whatever you wish to know, but for now-"

Irwin tried to imagine how Daubutim would tell the story, leaving out anything useless and just focusing on the facts.

It took longer than he'd expected, either because he wasn't as good or because of the questions his mother and brother kept asking, especially at the start. He was glad he left out some things, like Ambraz and Scintilla. Still, as he skipped certain parts, he saw his mother's eyebrows furrow as she stared at him.

When he finally finished, flickering candles provided the only light in the room, and his mother seemed to be fighting her sleep.

"So… we are going to leave? To another world?" she whispered.

"Yes," Irwin said calmly, staring at her. "One without demons and portals."

His mother nodded before stifling a yawn.

"So… you can make cards stronger?" Bronwyn asked, frowning. "Can you do that for any cards, or are there limitations?"

Irwin was about to answer when their mother rose.

"I need to sleep, or I'll not be able to help Carla in the morning," she said before hobbling to Irwin and hugging him. "I'm so glad you are back," she whispered before moving out of the room, muttering something about Frozir's that helped instead of killed, giant desert worlds, and cardsmiths.

Irwin smiled and turned back to Bronwyn.

He was about to answer his question about smithing when his brother raised his hand. He was looking at the door, listening to something. Irwin heard his mother walk up a staircase, and the ticking of her cane faded as she headed further into the building. Only when it was completely gone did Bronwyn lower his hand.

"Tell me about the cards later," Bronwyn said as he leaned forward, serious. "You said your friend will be able to create that portal somewhere close? Do you know where?"

"No idea," Irwin said. "The other one ended up near Hangman's hilltop, well hidden."

"Yeah, that's what I gathered," Bronwyn said as he frowned. "You know, there's not many places here where things could be well hidden."

"I know," Irwin said, sighing wearily. "It's very likely that it will be inside Gloomforest."

"Yes, and that's going to be a problem," Bronwyn said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Only some people know this, so don't tell anyone, but there's a powerful demon hiding inside the Gloomforest. It's been killing or chasing away everything inside."

"I was afraid of that," Irwin whispered. "Has anyone seen it?"

Bronwyn flinched and nodded. "I have," he whispered. "It's a monstrously big bird that seems hellbent on eating everything it comes across."