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Rifts in the Weave
027 - Early Afternoon - October 16, 2020 - Nolan Acreage near Nevada, Iowa

027 - Early Afternoon - October 16, 2020 - Nolan Acreage near Nevada, Iowa

Hadrian’s horse had kept an easy pace with the slow moving truck as they closed the last few miles to the Nolan’s acreage. Jes and Rock rode inside the cab in an uneasy silence. The familiar landscape seemed suddenly alien to Jes as she watched it go by. It was a matter of minutes before they were pulling into the long winding drive framed by old, wide spreading oaks. A final turn brought them to the dooryard of the old farmhouse.

The paint on the white wood siding was peeling. The black shutters, from an era when they were actually used, were mostly fixed wide open, but one had come loose and knocked softly in a gentle breeze. A wrap around porch ran along three sides of the two storied, many gabled farmhouse. It had once been well kept and shining, but time and the age of the occupants had let the little things get by them. Beyond the house and a large garage, were a number of scattered outbuildings. Some showing the clear signs of age and disuse, some more neatly kept up.

Home. The feeling swept through Jes like a kind of warmth. Her parents were here, waiting for her. Just on the other side of the red painted door. She was out the door as soon as Rock stopped the car and up the steps a moment later. She didn’t even consider Hadrian’s presence behind the truck, she just went for the door. It wasn’t locked, it never was, home was always a place of welcome. There was a wuff of sound from the couch as she stepped into the living room as an ancient dog climbed off.

“Is that you, sweetie?” Her mother called from the kitchen, just visible through a doorway.

“Yeah, Ma.” She answered stooping to pet the old dog whose tail thumped against the couch. “Howdy, Rowdy.” She said, her voice pitched high for the dogs benefit.

She looked up as her mother entered the living room. She wore pajama bottoms and a baggy grey sweatshirt. Her hair, more grey than black now, was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail from her soft featured face. Her eyes, the same golden brown as Jes’ were red rimmed and puffy. Her nose was red and irritated. Jes’ heart wrenched in her chest. Her eyes suddenly burned and her throat tightened. How had she forgotten?

Before she could blink she was in her mothers arms, clinging tightly, wishing she had done more, been more.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Her mother murmured, clinging just as tightly as Jes was.

“I know, ma. I wish I had come sooner.” It was hard to breathe through her burning throat.

Her mother murmured nonsense words, rubbing Jes’ back in soothing strokes. There was a slight, but comforting, sway in the embrace, like there had always been. Jes buried her face in her mother’s shoulder for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing in that familiar scent of home. After a moment she lifted her head and drew a deep breath through her nose.

“Are you baking brownies?” Jes’ tone was incredulous.

“Yeah,” Her mother’s voice was rough.

Jes half-sobbed half laughed as she shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Rock’s here.”

“Is Alan coming in?”

“Maybe. Listen, Ma. There’s some weird shit going on out there. Something happened on the way home, a couple somethings. Rock and I met this guy. I’m going to bring him inside in a few minutes. He’s different, Ma.”

“How different?”

“Really.” Jes went still as she answered the question. How was it that this suddenly seemed normal and fine to her. All of a sudden, she had been thrust into a world that didn’t really make sense anymore and somehow she had just taken it all in stride. Orckin and strange armies in a field in the middle of Iowa? Okay, what next? She frowned. “Really different, Ma. I’m not sure how to tell you. I mean, I barely believe all this myself. I guess it’s stranger than I really thought about before. I mean, well shit.”

“What is it, sweetie?” Her mother brushed the wayward curls off of Jes’ face. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

“Oh, Ma. It’s nothing like that. It’s just, let’s sit down for a minute alright? I’ll start at the beginning and tell you everything that’s happened since we got off the phone. It’s a good place to start. If there really is one.”

“You’re starting to worry me, Jes.” Her mother protested, but she sat on the sofa the dog had vacated. She seemed thinner somehow, not physically, but emotionally. Thin, worn. Tragedy had taken something from her already and almost a second. What more will the world take from her in the near future?

Jes pushed those thoughts aside and sat next to her mother. “This morning, while I was driving here, I got into an accident. I think I told you I hit a horse?” She didn’t wait for confirmation, she just pushed on. “It wasn’t a horse. I think it was actually a unicorn.”

Her mom’s lips twitched in a smile, as though Jes were making some kind of joke, she almost laughed, almost smiled fully, then she noticed how serious Jes’ face was. “A unicorn.” There was no wonder in her voice, no amazement, just a hollowed out, bereft note that almost felt like fear to Jes.

“Yes. A unicorn. I tried to avoid it, but it was so sudden, black in the darkness. It charged the car. I killed it.”

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“Killed a unicorn?” There was an edge to her voice now, almost hysterical.

“Yeah, ma. Killed a unicorn, totaled my car. Rock came to pick me up at the hospital, drive me home. While we were driving something happened. There was a field by the road, baled hay I think, and Rock almost hit some idiot on a horse racing across the road. He stopped and that’s when we saw it. This field was just full of people on horseback, people on foot, people fighting. We thought it was a LARP or something at first, SGA maybe, but then it started getting even weirder. People were vanishing, reappearing, or not. Eventually there was this guy, different from most of the guys, he came over to Rock and I started talking.” Jes shook her head, rambling words dying. “Ma, he isn’t human.” How had that been so easy for her to accept in the moment and so difficult now.

“Not human?” Her mother pressed her wrist to Jes’ forehead as though checking her temperature would gauge her sanity.

“Not human. His name is Hadrian and he calls himself orckin, whatever that means.”

“Orckin?”

“Yeah. You want me to go bring him in? I don’t think you’ll really understand what’s going on until you see him. Maybe.”

“Go get him, I’ll get the brownies, they should be done any moment.”

Jes left the house, letting the dog amble out behind her. Rock and Hadrian weren’t in the dooryard anymore but there were lights on in the barn. She followed Rowdy as he shuffled toward the barn. She was suddenly in no hurry for anything. Here in the dooryard, she could almost convince herself that was her dad puttering around in the barn. She took a deep breath of the crisp fall air and tucked her hands in the pockets of the scrub pants she still wore. She had forgotten about Da. Her heart ached in her chest as she admitted that. In all the chaos and excitement, she had forgotten he was gone.

She stood in the doorway of the barn, Rowdy at her side, for a long moment, watching Hadrian and Rock. They had taken the saddle and barding off the sturdy brown horse and it hung awkwardly on the saddle frames in the tack room. Hadrian was picking the mud out of one of his horse’s hooves while Rock stroked the head of a fat little shetland pony in one of the stalls. Hadrian’s red-brown eyes flicked upward as he set down the hoof he had been working on.

“Big barn.” He commented as he turned back toward the brown horse, taking a curry comb to its dusty hide. “Your Rock was telling me of supermarkets, when I asked why you kept no animals save for the horses.”

“Yeah, this isn’t really a farm.” Jes commented as she walked toward one of the stalls. The horse within made a shrill, eager, winny as soon as it heard her voice. “Yes, Punkin, I’m here.” The leggy, mud colored horse stuck her nose over the stall door for stroking.

“He said as much. Fascinating world you live in. I thank you for the hospitality. I’m not sure what I would have done otherwise. I understand there are none of my kind in this world. Nor any other kind but humans.”

“True. And we’re not even very tolerant of each other.” She said, thinking of the riots and the unrest that had marked this year. Shitshow.

“You taking him inside?” Rock asked as he walked away from the pony.

“I have to. Ma won’t believe this whole mess otherwise.”

“At least she’ll accept him.”

“He’ll be safe here, as long as he needs to be. Wonder what will happen in that field?”

Rock shrugged. “Let’s get inside. You’ve got to be starving.”

“Ma made brownies.”

“Excellent!” Rock turned toward Hadrian, “You coming?”

“I had better. I should introduce myself to the dame of the home before I overstay my welcome.”

“Ooh, she’ll like that. Dame Gwendolyn of the Nolans.” Jes said, Rock chuckled. Rowdy sniffed at the stranger but didn’t seem inclined to waste the energy barking would take. Jes and Rowdy led the way back up the porch steps and into the living room.

“Give the brownies just a minute or two and we can cut into them. They’re best hot out of the oven, if you ask me.” Jes’ Ma called out from the kitchen.

Rock rubbed his hands together with an eager grin on his face. “Sounds great, Miss Gwendy.”

“Alan, is that you out there? It’s been positively ages since I’ve seen you. What have you been doing with yourself?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Teaching classes, doing research.”

“What was it you were researching again?”

“Slime molds.”

“Right, that was it, gross stuff.”

Jes stifled a chuckle. “Your life’s work, reduced to a toddler’s vocabulary.” She teased, her golden eyes twinkling with mirth.

“So funny, Jes. What have you been doing?”

She sobered immediately, “Nothing worth staying gone for so long.” Was all she said.

Gwendy chose that moment to pop out of the kitchen carrying a plate full of warm, thick, chocolate brownies. “Alan Stone, have you been teasing Jes again?”

Rock studied his friend for a long moment, “Yes, Miss Gwendy. I’ll stop.”

“See that you do.” She said as she set the plate of brownies down on the coffee table. “Would anyone like a drink?”

“Ma, can I introduce you to Hadrian Tien first? Hadrian, this is my mother, Gwendolyn Nolan.”

Hadrian, black beard bristling and his smile broken by two prominent lower fangs, stood next to the couch, he had been looking down at the dog, letting it sniff one large hand. Now he had turned to face Jes’ mother, bowing at the waist in greeting. “It is a pleasure, Dame Nolan. I must thank you for allowing my horse to be kept in your barn temporarily.”

“You’re welcome.” Gwendy said automatically as her eyes scoured the orckin’s visage as though seeking evidence of a mask. “Who are you really, Hadrian Tien?”

Hadrian’s smile turned sad, a bare lifting of the corners of his mouth, lip tightening against his fangs. “I was Company Commander under High Commander Blackfist in the 9th Army of Ograkall. Perhaps, in time I would have made High Commander of my own Army, but alas. I have come to Iowa and I may never see Ograkall again.”

“This isn’t -” She swallowed, “-isn’t some role playing game?” Gwendy asked, her gaze flicking from Rock to Jes looking for some sign they were playing with her.

“No, Ma.” Jes answered. “We saw him pop into view. He fought his way out of the crowd of the red army.”

“The Red Empire will likely move to secure the Weaves that brought us here, likely by holding the ground around it. They are a very dangerous enemy when surrounded. We should not let them become entrenched. Yet, I am just one man. There is not much I can do against them. There are no reinforcements coming for me.”

“How dangerous can they possibly be?” Gwendy asked.