It had been a pair of long, exhausting days filled with worry. Three of them really. Ever since Jes had called him out of nowhere after so many years of not hearing a word. He kicked the dirt off his boots before he climbed the stairs to the porch he had spent half his childhood running tame around. He slipped his dirty boots off and left them on the porch, well aware that Gwendy wouldn’t tolerate dirty boots on her rugs. As he opened the door, the smell of the house hit him, lemon polish, fresh bread, and Gwendy’s familiar perfume. He paused for a moment, guts wrenching at the familiar smell. Why couldn’t all of life be as simple as childhood?

Gwendy was in the kitchen, he could smell whatever was cooking on the old gas stove. Smelled like spaghetti with a rich red sauce, Jes’ childhood favorite if he remembered correctly.

Rowdy didn’t come to greet him at the door, which was unusual, but as soon as he stepped into the living room it was clear to see why. Jes was sitting, curled in the corner of the couch, with Rowdy’s head on her lap as she gently stroked his cheeks. She didn’t look great, with bandages still covering almost half her body, but she looked better. There was no blood around her mouth anymore and her one visible eye was clear and focused. She held herself stiffly as though her side pained her, but it was nothing compared to even the morning.

Words failed him for a moment as his eyes took in the sight of her sitting up.

“Rock.” There was a smile in her voice and the half of her lips he could see reinforced the sound.

“It’s good to see you up.” Rock said as he padded in his stocking feet to the other end of the couch. “How do you feel?”

Jes was silent for a long moment, the fingers of her left hand softly stroking the dog’s cheek. “Alive.” She said at last. “Sore.”

“To be honest, I thought you would still be unconscious.”

“Mmm.” Despite the fact that she had slept for most of the last day and a half, she looked tired. Exhausted really.

They sat in silence for a long while, with Rowdy sprawled between them. Rock scratched the dog’s flank and Rowdy’s eyes rolled back in his head in sheer delight. After a while, they could hear Hadrian’s deep voice talking to Gwendy in the kitchen.

“I think he’s got a crush on Ma.” Jes said, her golden eye sparkling for a moment before her wide grin pulled at the burns on her face. Both the smile and the sparkle vanished.

“You’re probably right. I better go fight him for her.”

Jes wanted to laugh, but even the small chuckle that escaped her sent waves of agony through her burns. She gasped and hissed through the pain. “Don’t make me laugh, Rock. I can’t.”

“Reader’s Digest told me laughter was the best medicine.”

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

“It was wrong.”

“Lies.”

“Tell me, what happened?”

“That storm ripped through town, there were fires. There were bucket brigades because none of the fire engines are working. Cell networks are down. Internet’s down. Not that it matters, nothing electronic seems to be working. Hospital’s barely functioning without power. A lot of people died from the storm, more from the rioting.” He shook his head.

“Shit show.” She heaved a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. “This year just keeps getting worse.”

He reached out and took her hand in his, the one that had been stroking Rowdy’s soft cheeks. “It hasn’t been all bad has it?”

Jes was saved from answering by Hadrian emerging from the kitchen. “Dame Gwendolyn has asked me to call you two for dinner. Jes, do you require assistance to the dining room?”

“Mi’lady, allow me to carry you.” Rock said, rising to his feet.

“Not funny, Rock. I think I can walk.”

“Probably, but should you?”

“Definitely not.” Hadrian answered for her, “You should rest as much as you can. Allow us to help you, until you are fully recovered.”

One embarrassing ride later and Jes sat blushing at the dining room table. Garlic bread, a thick red sauce and perfectly cooked angel hair pasta. Rock took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents of one of his favorite childhood meals. There was something about comfort food, served in a candle lit dining room that made the last couple of days seem somewhat less horrifying.

“I scouted the Azmaelans before helping Dame Gwendolyn make dinner.” Hadrian said as he finished scooping sauce over his pasta. That gained the attention of everyone at the table.

“Why didn’t you say earlier?” Rock asked, his fork paused halfway through twirling up a bite of spaghetti.

Hadrian’s ears twitched, drooping for a moment before they flared back against his head. “There is little we can do about their actions. We are too few, and none are spellweavers. Our might does not begin to touch that of the Empire.”

Rock’s hand tightened on the fork in his hand. “What then? What can we do?”

The orckin shook his head slowly, from one side to the other. “Truthfully? I do not know. We have been fighting them for generations, pushing them back and away. At one time, they controlled most of Ograkill.” Hadrian huffed out a sigh and scooped up a forkful of spaghetti.

“What makes them so horrible?” Rock asked.

Hadrian’s heavy featured face was made for scowling. His brows drew closed over his red-brown eyes and his lower tusks lent a fierceness to the expression that no human could match. “The Azmaelans believe that they are the only pure creatures in the world. That all other kin are beneath them. They have been purging elfkin for a milenia, but in the last two centuries, they have begun purging anything that isn’t a ‘pure’ elf.”

“That’s terrible.” Gwendy said with a gasp.

Rock struggled to swallow a bite of spaghetti with a throat that had suddenly gone dry. “They won’t find anything but humans here.”

“Then they will have no qualms about wiping the world clear so that they may have a sanctuary for elvenkind.”

The delicious meal Gwendy and Hadrian had worked so hard on suddenly tasted like ash in Rock’s mouth. “And there’s nothing we can do?”

Hadrian offered a pale excuse for a smile and gave the slightest shake of his head. “I don’t think there is much that we can do.” He gestured around the table with one thick nailed hand, “But perhaps we can gather others to our cause and find a way to overpower them with the might of your world.”

“If there is one thing humanity is good at, it’s war.” Jes’ voice was almost faint and the expression in her golden brown eye was unreadable when Rock met it.