Getting back to Betty had been easy enough. As Joe had suspected, they had spread their forces thin throughout the forest in an attempt to find him. He’d had to hide from a lot of dangerous creatures in his time, ones that made these guys look like teddy bears in comparison, so it was comparatively easy. Still, there had been a lot of them out there, moving in pairs through the forest. He hadn’t wanted to kill or harm any of them though, for doing so would indicate that he was still nearby in the woods. He wanted Prolo’s dad to think he’d vanished like a fart in the wind.

And he managed to do so, it just had taken all night to get back here. The early gray of the morning greeted him as he finally moved into the clearing, his eyes heavy. Thank goodness, now he could get some shut eye… He pursed his lips. What if those men found Betty out here? Would they try and break in? Would they know that it belonged to him? Well, if they did, there would be a nasty surprise waiting for them. Joe would worry about that if it happened… He’d be taking his nap, he knew there would be no way for anyone to breach her hull, not unless they had welding equipment or a rocket launcher.

He groggily thumbed the garage-door opener, Betty’s airlock door lowering to reveal its inner door. He then walked up the ramp, did his secret knock, and stepped inside, shutting both the airlock and door behind him before letting out one of the biggest sighs of his life. Joe slung off his backpack, leaving it next to the door before getting to work removing his armor. He’d need to take a shower before hitting the hay, he was covered in the thickest layer of sweat and grime imaginable, as he had not bathed at the Pienturshuld manor. He simply was not comfortable letting himself be so vulnerable in unknown territory.

Now that he was back at Betty, he could relax and get himself cleaned up. Once the armor was off, he moved through his pink-carpeted front-room and into the bathroom adjacent to it, shrugging out of his clothes before opening the glass door to his shower. He stepped inside, turned the valves, and just sat down to let the hot water pour over him. He let out a bigger sign than before as he felt the yuck slide off him and pass into the drain, ready to be recycled.

That didn’t mean that he drank the same water he showered with of course; he had a miniature water treatment plant all the pipes in Betty led too, cleaning the water and readying it for re-use. It was probably time to clean it though, well past time. There was likely an intense build of hard-water and other detritus that needed to be cleared out. The water distiller he had should still be operational, but it wouldn’t hurt to do a bit of maintenance. Hmm… now that he thought of it, it was probably high time that he empty the septic tank too. He didn’t look forward to it.

He popped his back as he made way toward the cockpit, yawning as he went.. He wanted to check around the exterior before getting his jammies on, just to make sure that nothing was prowling around outside. He flicked on the cameras, checking the screens to see a single man, standing right outside Betty’s sealed airlock. He seemed to be inspecting the ground, looking at the smushed grass where Joseph’s feet had been.

He wore a hooded cloak it looked like, but the pixelation made it hard to make out the details of his face. The man then stood quickly, looking directly at Betty before running off into the woods. Joseph paled at the sight, realizing that daddy Pienturshuld had sent someone to track him. He must have been good too, being able to find Joe’s trail like that… this was bad, extraordinarily bad.

If that guy had any brains he’d assume that Joe was here, as that was where his tracks had ended. Should he gear up and give chase? It wasn’t likely that he’d be able to catch the guy in time before he could report back to the manor. He was already taking off in a sprint and Joe was still naked, by time he got the armor back on he’d be a good distance away. He could have gunned him down with one of the rear turrets perhaps, but he was already well within the trees and there was no guarantee the shots would hit. He hadn’t wanted to kill any of these guys when he was sneaking back to Betty, but now that they knew where he was there was no reason to hold back now. It was a him or them situation once again, and he would always choose himself.

Still, there was the potential for more dire consequences later if he killed Pienturshuld’s boys. It could rally more people to come after him than before, justified by both his otherworldly heritage and his killing of locals. Sure, he could try killing all comers but… No, he needed to concentrate on the now. The best thing to do in this situation was to get out, meaning that Betty would need to knock down a few trees after all. It was unfortunate, and he definitely didn’t want to harm these woods, but it had to be done. He’d try not to kill anyone but it’d be no skin off his back if it happened.

First though, he’d be slipping into his jammies.

…

…

…

Prolo glared at the man as he reported his findings to father, who stared down imperiously at the bowing tracker. If only he were brave enough to defy father, he could cut down this man before he gave his report. Yet, even if he were, the hunter was just following his lord's orders, killing him would be an act of evil, would it not? Even if it would save the Outworlder he befriended, it would not be right.

“He seems to have taken shelter in a large cabin made of steel, Lord Pienturshuld, the Outworlder was unaware of my presence. He should still be there if you set out with a party to capture him.” The hunter said.

“Very good.” Father replied, running a hand through his short dark hair, white winged at the temples, “We’ll set out immediately with riders, and apprehend it.”

“Joseph is not an it, father.” Prolo said through clenched teeth, “He is a man like you and I.”

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“It is a tool, Prolo.” HIs father replied, turning to him, “And you will refer to me as Lord Pienturshuld whilst you remain under my roof.”

“Yes… Lord Pienturshuld.” Prolo replied after a moment.

He clenched his fists as he forced himself to look his father in the eyes. Ragas Pienturshuld was a cold-hearted man, and his hard stony face reflected that perfectly. Even his garb seemed carved out of rock, the gray silk cloak and dark shirt beneath it making him nearly look a statue. A long, thin sword was sheathed at his belt, a mirror of Prolo’s own.

“What were you thinking, entertaining such a creature without sending word? Did you really think that our servants wouldn’t have reported this to me?” Ragas asked, face flat and expressionless, “Foolish boy, you don’t seem to understand the gravity of letting the Outworlder free.”

“He is a good man-” Prolo began before Ragas cut him off harshly.

“It is a wish waiting to be granted, think of it boy. The Ban can be circumvented with the body of an Outworlder, and any of the Overseer’s children would reward us handsomely for one. I know what I will ask for, and you will weep when you see it.” He finished, finally turning away from Prolo before shouting, “Gather riders and surround his steel cabin, we ride immediately. My heir will remain here and be confined to his rooms.”

Prolo clenched his fists, teeth grinding as two of the guards escorted him to his chambers. Joseph will have hopefully left this strange building behind, whatever it was. More than anything though, he hoped his father failed to catch him. He had been so close to learning English, one of the thousands of tongues from the Outworld… He mustn't give up yet, the book still existed and Joseph seemed to be a hardy man. One way or another he would learn English…

And find a way to go to the Outworld.

…

…

…

Ragas Pienturshuld sat straight-backed in his saddle as he and his men galloped down the trail, following after the hunter as they went. His foolish boy had nearly cost the Pienturshuld family the world, but there was still time to rectify this error. The Outworlder, Joseph, had taken refuge in a small home of metal, according to the hunter. They’d surround it and wait for it to come out, and once apprehended, he’d take the creature to be given to whatever deity gave Ragas the best offer.

Normally he wouldn’t go out on a mission like this himself, but the value of an Outworlder was worth more than anything on Faenor, and this was the first one found in over twenty years. They had become far less common in this century for some reason, almost as if they were going extinct. They had always been rare, in truth, but the scarcity of them nowadays made them nearly mythical.

What happened in the Outworld that caused such a lull in their appearances? Had something happened to their planet that reduced the human population? He frowned, whipping the reins to his horse and turning his thoughts away from the subject. It didn’t matter what had happened to them, there was one here now, and he belonged to Ragas. The hunter then slowed to a stop, forcing Ragas to slow his own horse to prevent a collision.

“It is a mile this way, Lord Pienturshuld.” He said, indicating the forest, “The trail he had left seemed erratic and was well-concealed, I suspect that this means he won’t be expecting us.”

“Good, then let us-”

The roar of a beast then echoed through the woods, the scream sounding more like a dragon chewing rocks rather than a standard monster. What manner of creature could make that sound? Ragas drew his blade, his men, twenty in all drawing their own weapons in turn. The monster seemed to be in the same direction as the Outworlder! He could not let Joseph die like this, it’s destiny was to be a vessel, not a meal!

“Men, prepare crossbows, we must slay whatever beast lay within the woods if we’re to safely secure the Outworlder.” Ragas ordered, his men sheathing their weapons to draw their crossbows.

Whatever it was, it drew closer, that rock-chewing scream beginning to deafen his ears. Then, much to his terror, the ground began to shake slightly, the horses rearing back as the sound of crunching wood grew ever closer. And then, through the trees, he spotted it. It was a massive block-shaped mass of darkness, with a row of sharp steel teeth sticking out of its mouth. It knocked down a dozen trees as it advanced toward them, roaring with wrath as the forest bent to its will, crushing trees under massive…

Wait, those were not feet… those were some kind of wheel, two extraordinarily long ones. This was no beast, it was a contraption! A vehicle of some sort, but what beast pulled it? There were no horses in the world that could pull such a thing, and larger beasts would likely struggle to move it even an inch. Yet nothing pulled the massive thing as it finally breached the trail in front of them, a trail of flattened trees left in its wake. It had carved a new trail through Everfall forest, the dark steel mass seeming to drink in all the light.

Then the thing turned toward them, its bulk taking up the entire trail before it shot forward, sending the horses into a panic as it continued to roar. His beast and the hunter’s ran in the opposite direction of the thing, still in the path of its charge.

“My lord!” The hunter yelld, barely audible, “That is the steel cabin I saw!”

If that was true, then by The Overseer, the Outworlder was within. He was tempted to try and rear his horse around, to try and board the thing and find an entrance… but he knew that would be folly. The reward was great, but his death would be guaranteed…. For now, the Outworlder would have to go free. This wasn’t a complete loss of course, for with how massive this vehicle was, it would leave a trail that was impossible to lose.

“Return to the manor men!” Ragas shouted as loudly as he could, “This is not a fight we can win!”

He’d not throw the lives of his men away in a foolish attempt to breach the Outworlder’s vessel. They needed to survive for their own families, as well as his own. Their horses all bunched together, fleeing the path of the beast with whinnying terror. They shot their crossbows, the bolts plinking off the hardened black exterior without leaving even a dent.

Then it began to gain on them.