“Thank you for letting us stay… “Charianne’s voice still holds a twinge of doubt, but she is willing to take the chance for her daughter.

“Well, learning magic is no one-day endeavor, and I see in her eyes a hunger for knowledge, and I intend to give all I know to her.” Oliver had no idea why he had offered to teach young Luna magic. Such a decision was so unlike him, it unsettled him. He started to wonder if all the years alone were finally getting to him. He could only start to grasp why he made such a decision but one thing he did know is that Luna’s eyes shining next to the morning snow made him want to do whatever he could to make her happy. Odd isn’t it? Such a strong attachment to a stranger.

“It isn’t much, but make yourself at home.” As Oliver opened the door, the musty smell of books wafted. Strewn about were spellbook after spellbook brimming with power and magic. The virtual cornucopia of spellbooks strewn about the floor and the dust that seemed to settle about, spreading its children throughout the cabin.

“Why are you so willing to help us?” Charianne’s voice was filled with interrogation, and her guard and earthy-colored ears were standing tall.

“Just needed the company is all. The walls start to speak when you’re alone for this long.” Oliver knew deep down he was lying. Being on his own was never of concern to him. Not to mention, plenty of opportunities have presented themselves for roommates, but none held the twinkle in their eyes that he saw in Luna.

“And how long would that be… hunt-,” she stops herself,”...Oliver.”

“Thank you. I think it’s been 7… maybe 9 years since I’ve been on my own. You start to lose track after so long.” The air fell silent and still. The inability to continue the conversation hung over the two. Years alone did not make for a good conversation starter.

“Mr. Oliver!” Luna chimed in, breaking the crushing silence of running out of small talk. “When are you gonna teach me magic?”

“As impatient as ever. Luna, you can start tomorrow. For now, we need to eat dinner.”

Charianne pulls a rucksack behind her. She opens it and pulls out meager samples of jerky, dried fruit, and stale bread.

“I can cook something else. A warm meal is always nice.” Oliver motioned to his cabinets. He couldn’t very well have his first guest over in what years, without so much as a home cooked meal.

“No thanks, we have our own food.” Charianne dismisses it without a glance.

“Okay then. I’ll just make enough for myself.” Oliver grabbed some simple ingredients from his cabinet. While he was no chef, he could make good enough food to satisfy himself, and that was enough. He grabbed the local snow carrots, horseradishes, some local mushrooms, and rabbit meat. Intentionally, he grabs more than he needs, just in case they change their minds. Grabbing the worn-out knife on the wall, he minced the vegetables and chopped the rabbit into reasonable chunks. Going back to the cabinet, he grabbed some seasonings, which are rare in these parts, but he has his ways. He grabbed an old pot and opened his palm. The energy gathered around him as he spoke a language no mortal could begin to understand. Then the water flows forth, filling the pot. Finally, he added the ingredients to the water and made sure to season it well. Conjuring some flame below the fireplace, he hung the pot above the blaze. Silence stayed constant, only being broken by nibbles from the Lycans and the sounds of boiling water.

Ever the bookworm, Oliver grabbed a story off the ground and sat down. His rocker was reliable and the only chair to be used, as evidenced by the dust surrounding the other various benches and furniture. His eyes were inquisitive and thoughtful, and he swayed back and forth in his chair. He put on some glasses, completely black like charcoal except for the lenses of course which were almost crystalline in their shine. Not used to the company, Oliver was quite surprised when little Luna crawled up his leg.

“What are you doing?” Luna asked inquisitively, not paying mind to Oliver’s personal space. “Are you reading books on magic?”

“Is that all you think about?” Oliver inquired, never looking up from his book.

“Well, I just think it’s so cool. It’s fantastical!” Luna crawled further, her face next to Oliver’s as he read. Luna’s mouth moved along as Oliver read, a surprising feat for someone so young.

“You can read little witchlet? And fantastical, that's a big word for someone so young.” Oliver was surprised at Luna’s ability to sound out words.

“Momma taught me a few things.”

“That’s quite impressive,” Oliver spoke, amused at her intelligence. “Anything else you know? For instance, Arithmetic.”

“I’m no good with that… momma tried to teach me but I just don’t get it! The only thing I can do is count…” Luna pouts, tracing circles on her palm in frustration.

“That’s still very impressive. Basic counting is a feat to itself.”

Luna’s face lights up at the praise, “Really? Mom, did you hear that? He said he was impressed.”

“Yes I did, dear.” While trying to hide it, it is abundantly clear that Charianne is also enjoying her daughter’s antics. Although she still kept a certain distance and a certain readiness in her stance.

“I think the soup is done by now… The offer is still on the table if you want some.” Oliver glided across the hard surface floor to Chairianne’s utter confusion. She wanted to press about his movement further but ultimately decided not to, she didn’t want to share her secrets. Why should he have to share his?

“No thank you…” Charianee stated in stark contrast to her daughter’s pleading eyes. Oliver strolled over to the boiling pot and extinguished the fire below. He grabbed three wooden bowls from his cabinet and poured the soup with a ladle into each of them. The gentle smell of a warm meal wafted in the air.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Please, have some.” Oliver presented a bowl to Charianne. No person should go without a warm meal, especially if they’re guests.

Charianne looks at her daughter, Luna’s eyes filled with hunger and her stomach rumbling. “Fine, but only if you eat some first.”

“Okay then, odd request.” Oliver grabs a spoon and drinks some of the soup from the pot. It’s no tavern specialty, but it gets the job done and tastes better than it looks.

“Please, eat some.” Oliver pleads after tasting the soup for himself.

“Okay, fine then…” Chairanne growled, keeping her foot angled towards the door. She carefully scooped a small amount of soup into her spoon and raised that spoon to her lips. Her hand shaking, she tasted the soup. As the liquid hit her lips, she expected to find a potent poison and was ready to spit it out at a moment's notice, but instead, she was met with a melody of flavors she hadn’t tasted in years. She quickly started to scarf it down along with Luna.

“Easy there, no one is going to take your food,” Oliver reassured. Chairanne and Luna quickly ate all that they were given and felt an undeniable comfortability right now. A sense of belonging. Odd isn’t it? Such a strong attachment to a stranger.

“More please!” The Lycans begged in unison. Such rude people, they hardly know any table manners. Oliver chuckled slightly.

“Coming right up!” Olver was happy to know someone enjoyed his cooking. He couldn’t help but feel a little pride watching people scarf down his food. “Is it that good?” Oliver was met with frantic nods, the two Lycans continuing to move their spoon. After only a few minutes, the soup in a pot that could feed a family of 6 was completely empty.

“That hit the spot…” Charianne put the bowl down with a satisfied sigh, along with her daughter. “You really are a good cook, you know that?” Her voice lightened up, warmed up by the soup.

“Oh please, anyone could make that soup, just some of the forest ingredients and some spices.”

“Spices? You have spices?” Charianne’s ears perked up with curiosity, and their tailstarted to wag slightly.

“Yeah. An old friend taught me how to conjure them with magic. They are surprisingly complex to make.” Charianne’s eyes lit up. Her tail was now wagging more frantically, and her guard was dropping further. She slams her hands on the table in excitement.

“Please make more food in the future!” Oliver, noticing her change in demeanor, nods his head to both the Lycan’s delight. Charianne became quite a bit more talkative; her eyes were not so narrow, and her ears were not at full attention. “How much magic do you know? You seem to do so much with ease. I can barely do basic magic, let alone conjure a bird out of the snow.”

“Enough to become a local legend.” Oliver states that it is an average amount of power to wield. But to him it was.

“A local legend? Is that an example or are you infamous around here?”

“Actually, you may have heard about me, but I hate the legends. They’re so glorifying. It places too much on me. I prefer to ignore them.”

“But Mr. Oliver!” Luna pipes up. “If you have power, you should use it right. That’s why I wanna use magic myself. It seems so cool to blast away enemies or solve your problems in a blink.”

“Now little wichlet, magic is incredible but you mustn’t wield that power irresponsibly, if I’m gonna start teaching you tomorrow you need to understand that.” Oliver’s eyes are filled with a twinge of mischief.

“Tomorrow!” Luna’s eyes light up at the confirmation. “Momma, can I really learn magic tomorrow?” Charianne looks Oliver up and down, sizing him up before sighing and resigning to her daughter’s pleas.

“Yes, honey, you can learn magic from Oliver. But remember,” Charianne glances up at Oliver, “stay safe. That should always be your top priority.” Luna is only half listening, too enthralled by the idea of becoming a magic user herself.

Oliver and Charianne start to clean up the mess from dinner together. They babble about their lives, seemingly now having no problem with more small talk, while Luna runs about with boundless energy. Her golden locks drifted along, acting as a trail of how she bolted like lightning all around the lodge chanting, “I’m gonna learn MAGIC”. Oliver couldn’t help but feel a tad content with his new house guests, their company bringing more energy into the admittedly dingy place. The way they looked at him was nice and it eased him from a pain he didn’t know he was feeling.

“This is nice…” he thought, “I could get used to this.” The energy continued to be lively, and he entertained the thought that this could become a more permanent arrangement but ultimately dismissed it. While magic was no easy endeavor, after that, it is likely they will move on. They must have someone else to get back to; I shouldn’t keep them for too long.” His mind brushed aside the idea of living like this forever, although he really shouldn’t have.

Deciding the night’s energy had to halt one day, Oliver brought his guest to a spare room. Unkempt as it was, it was still infinitely more comfortable than sleeping outside. After handing them some spare blankets and a pillow, Oliver went off to bed, but not before grabbing a book for nightly reading.

Charianne was still in shock at this living arrangement. She was not used to people’s kindness, which resulted in nothing but misery. She kept her ears peeled for suspicious noises, her guard still not lowering or faltering. Her daughter and all her naivety immediately lay on the bed and drifted off to sleep. Charianne followed suit, her eyelids getting heavier and heavier as she succumbed to exhaustion. Her sleeping position still allows for easy escape in case the need arises.

Charianne awoke, not in the bed she slept in, but in an all too familiar hut on the outskirts of society. Charianne arose, her stance tense, and her heartbeat quickened. As she got up, a voice nearly sent her into a panic

“You okay darling?” The voice is kind and gentle.

“Amorius!” Charianne flies to hug him, her arms embracing him and squeezing like she never wants to let go. Tears gently streaming down her face. The tall figure hugged back and warmth filled the room. Because of this, Charianne felt the nostalgic roundness of her stomach.

“Hey easy now, I’m not going anywhere now.” Amorius reassures. “Now, we’re about to leave soon.” He plants a gentle kiss on Charianne’s forehead.

“For what, darling?” ‘Darling’ came so quickly it was almost like a reaction.

“Our honeymoon, silly. Had too much mead last night, eh honey?” Charianne feels a pang of grief at the mention of the honeymoon but looks up to Amorius with a warm smile, just wanting to stay as close as possible.

“Okay, let’s go.” Charianne wanders through her village, clutching her newlywed husband’s arm the whole way through.

“We should get something to eat first. I wish I could cook you something like I normally do but we should get going before duty calls once more.”

“Being a chief is never easy, where do you want to go?”

“Wherever you are, love.” His smile lit up Charianne’s heart, a warmth long forgotten. “Why don’t you pick?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” Charianne pretended to think long and hard. “Let’s just try the banquet hall. Simple and no hassle.”

“Sounds perfect, my dear.” Their tails swished as they walked, Charianne’s oaky brown fur contrasting with Amorius’ golden yellow; they headed to the banquet hall. Along the way, they met with friendly face after friendly face, which Amorius could recall with scarily good accuracy.

“Hello, Kendra. Hey, Silver and Gold. Good to see you both.” The names of the clan came to him as quickly as the letters of the alphabet. It was almost terrifying in its consistency. People were never as grand as Amorius made them out to be, they provided some good times yes, but the only one always worth everything she put in was Amorius. Chariane clutches his arm further as they enter the banquet hall.

Strewn about on some tables were regularly restocked food, fitted with fruit, bread, meat, cheeses, and spices, a rare and delicious commodity. Charianne, never letting go of Amorous, drags him around and piles food on her plate adding pepper and other such spices to her food. As they sit down, Charianne begins to scarf food down with unsurprising vigor, relishing the taste of her local cuisine. Absolutely exquisite.

As she and Amorius get done eating, with Amorius commenting on how much she ate, they leave the banquet hall only for Charianne to be pushed.

“Amorius! What’s up with tha-” Amorius, standing before her, had an arrow lodged straight through his heart. His face pale as the blood rushed out of him. His body grew weak as he lost more and more strength. And the arrow was only the first. As Amorius collapsed, more arrows flew. The arrows are replaced by fireballs, which are replaced by magical nets as invaders take villagers into their carts, bounding them with iron chains and magic metal shock collars.

“HUNTERS! RUN!” Someone in the crowd screamed. CHarianne didn’t know who… Amorius would have. Amourius…. OH AMORUIS! Charianne tried to pick up Amorius in the chaos.

“Please my love, get up, you can still go on!” Charianne’s face scrunched with tears.

“This is where my story ends, but you still can be the one to go on. Take care of her okay?” Amorius presses a hand against her stomach before going limp.

“Amorius? Amorius!!!”

Charianne has no time left to grieve as weapons and spells continue to fly. Her instincts kicking into high gear, Charianne takes off into the forest. Charianne’s legs are on fire as she continues to sprint, her entire body being put forth in order to get as far as possible. Her natural instinct taking over she runs on all fours, her natural physique allowing her to bound greater and greater distances. There’s only one goal in mind, flee. She is running and running… and then she awakes… in the lodge on the mountain with her daughter laying right beside her and her stomach empty. She needed a meal.