As The Wolves laughed and began relaxing, there was a light knocking from the other side. Cid and Gabriel both went to the barn doors and readied their weapons. “Who is it?” Cid asked.

“My name is Rousalie,” said a voice from the other side, “I have a pot of stew that my in-laws wished to send over.”

Cid kicked his head towards the doctor. Come over, doctor, please.

Leonidas hobbled over, one foot pointing upwards. What do you need?

Do you know an incantation to see if this is a vampyre? Cid gestured.

Leonidas shrugged. “None that I can think of,” he said to the Felidan.

Cid turned to Gabriel and nodded for her to open to doors. Moving the large slab into the barn, The Wolves saw a woman holding a large pot of stew, the steam still rising up from within with a long handle of a spoon sticking up from the top. Behind her was a small child, a young boy bringing several wooden bowls in his arms with spoons resting inside the recess of the top one.

As she put the pot on the ground in the middle of the group, Rousalie took the handle and stirred the stew before taking one of the bowls from the child and filling it with the content inside. She first handed it to Cid who politely waved it off, “I’ll eat after everyone else has their meals first,” he said to her.

Rousalie leaned back a bit, “I remember hearing leaders taking the first share of any given loot.”

“Many do, but that’s never been my style,” Cid replied.

“Fair enough,” Rousalie said, as she handed the bowl to Maeryn.

Maeryn blew on the stew several times before taking a sip with her spoon. “This is really good,” she said to the others.

“I would hope so,” Rousalie said, “I made the meal myself.”

Silvius taking his first bite, followed, “This isn’t half bad at all.”

The rest of The Wolves grabbed a bowl and enjoyed the meal as Cid took his at the end. “Much obliged,” he said to Rousalie, “I know we sort of came without warning.”

“Nothing to worry about,” she said, “my folks believe in taking care of each other, with or without familiarity.”

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“Same with your husband’s kin?” Gabriel asked.

“Especially with them,” she said. “After my husband died, they took me in, our son, too.”

“What about your folks?” Leonidas asked.

“There was a raid in our hamlet two years back by one of lords on some partisan campaign, they … they didn’t make it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Leonidas said, lowering his bowl to the ground.

“I can’t imagine that must’ve been easy for you,” said Cid.

“It wasn’t,” Rousalie replied. “And it was followed by husband being conscripted into our lords retinue and marching off to this damned war.”

“Have you heard anything from him?” Kveldulf asked.

“Only how he died,” she said Rousalie, her voice beginning to break.

“I’m sorry,” Cid said, “we’ve been prying too much.”

“No,” Rousalie insisted, wiping her eyes. “It’s fine. Really it is.”

“Still, I think we’ve been pushing the proper boundaries of hospitality.”

“If only all our guests were so understanding,” Rousalie said.

As the others conversed with Rousalie, Jeanne was taking a spoonful of her meal when she noted the boy looking at her war-hammer. “Have you used that?” the boy asked timidly.

Jeanne smiled, wiping the corner of her mouth. “I have, in a few scraps,” she pulled the weapon out and pointed the handle to him. “You want to hold it?”

The boy’s eyes widened as his mouth dropped. “I can?”

“Only if you promise to careful with it.”

The boy nodded emphatically before taking the weapon. He stared at the shimmering star embedded within the darkness of the metal. “Is this a magical weapon?” he asked her.

“It if was I don’t think I’d be allowed to hold it,” Jeanne replied with a soft chuckle as the boy handed to weapon back.

“Have you been in battles before?”

“Oh yeah, more than my fair share of them.”

“What were they like?” the boy asked, getting down on his knees and looking up at her with admiration.

Jeanne looked away for a moment, trying to find the right words. How could he understand how the songs and stories he had been given were lies? How could he know the hopes of glory in war would never be won by him until his battle-scarred body was laid into their earth. How the very thing he’s looked up to had already stolen more from him than all the gold in this world could ever truly repay?

“In all honesty, all lies. Every last one.”

“But you’re a brave warrior,” the boy said. “You’ve probably slain giants and dragons and all kinds of monsters.”

“I’ve earned a few monsters under my belt. Though sometimes I wish I was back home on my parent’s farm, concerned about harvests and livestock, than wondering whether this is the last dawn I’ll get to see.”

The boy looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“Thank the Sheperd you don’t, not yet at least. And if you’re lucky, you won’t understand for a long time. A very long time.” Before the boy could respond, Jeanne heard Gabriel asked Rousalie a question.

“What do you mean?” Gabriel asked, after swallowing a mouthful of her meal.

“About three day’s ride south of here is the river Rodan, not far from there is a cave where some pirates have taken up refuge.”

“Have they been causing you a lot of trouble?” Benkin asked.

“Trouble is putting it lightly. They’ve been plaguing us since they got here. Especially with two of their newer members,” Rousalie said, stirring the pot before looking back at them again.

“Two new members, you say?” Cid asked. “What did they look like?”