"What am I supposed to say? I was at a party, got drunk, stumbled into bed, and suddenly woke up in an alley?" Joey thought to himself as he processed Lucius question.

"My name’s Joey, and I can’t remember anything," he said aloud, his voice calm but laced with uncertainty.

"Can’t remember anything?" Lucius repeated, eyebrows raised in disbelief. His voice carried both curiosity and concern as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "That might explain it. Could be the fall. When I found you, it was a miracle you were even alive, let alone with just one major wound." He studied Joey carefully, his expression growing more serious.

"But… really? Nothing at all? Where you’re from, your family name, if you have parents or maybe a wife?" He paused, grinning mischievously. "Or several wives?" The last part came out with a teasing, sarcastic tone.

Joey blinked and sighed deeply. "No, I don’t remember any of that. No hometown, no family, no… supposed wives." His voice dropped as he admitted it, feeling a pang of frustration at his own helplessness.

Lucius’ grin widened. "Wait, hold on. Several wives? Why did that get special emphasis with such a smug tone?" Joey’s tone sharpened as he realized the jab.

"BAHAHAHA!" Lucius burst into laughter, pounding the table with his fist as his whole body shook. His chair tilted back dangerously as he rocked with laughter, his arms flailing in a desperate attempt to regain balance.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Lucius cried, his arms flapping in the air like he was trying to catch an invisible rope. But his efforts were in vain, and with a loud crash, the chair tipped backward, sending him sprawling onto the floor. The noise echoed through the small room, shaking the wooden shelves slightly, before everything fell still.

Joey froze, unsure if he should laugh or stay serious. He didn’t know Lucius well enough to gauge what reaction was appropriate. His mind raced. "Don’t laugh, Joey. Don’t laugh. Just keep it together." He clenched his jaw, turning his head away, trying to stifle any reaction.

His mouth betrayed him, though. His lips twitched as he forced the corners of his mouth downward in a strained attempt to suppress a grin.

Then, unbidden, a random memory from his childhood surfaced. An old joke from a TV show he loved to watch as a child.

"Do you know what’s better than 24?"

"What?"

"25."

"Shit," Joey muttered under his breath as a grin broke across his face. No amount of willpower could stop it now, and his lips stretched wider, his attempts to suppress the laugh utterly failing.

Lucius groaned as he sat up, brushing dirt off his clothes and adjusting the chair back into place. "I see you’re having fun too," he muttered, his voice calmer now as he placed the chair upright and leaned on it for support.

Propping himself up, Lucius looked over at Joey, his grin returning as he saw the younger man struggling to control himself. "But seriously," he said, leaning forward onto the table with both elbows. His tone shifted back to curiosity. "You can’t remember anything? Not even how you ended up in that forest, bleeding out?"

Lucius pulled the chair back toward him and sat down again, listening closely to Joey.

"Of course I remember," Joey thought sarcastically, his internal monologue kicking in. "I randomly woke up in an alley, without any recollection of where i am I ran out of the city while having an existential crisis combined with an mental breakdown, stumbled around until I tripped, blacked out, and woke up in some dark void with a smoke person vaguely shaped like a human. Yep, that would go over well."

Instead, Joey shrugged and replied, "No, nothing. Just that I woke up in the forest, in a lot of pain."

Lucius leaned back against the chair, his arms stretched across its back, his fingers drumming lazily on the wood. His grin was still there, but it carried a hint of frustration now, like a man wrestling with thoughts he’d kept to himself for far too long.

“And here I thought,” he began, his voice light but tinged with sarcasm, “that I’d finally get something extraordinary. You show up out of nowhere, bleeding out in the middle of the woods, and I think, ‘Ah, maybe this is it. Some grand mystery. Something exciting.’” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Turns out, it’s just another case of someone who can’t remember a damn thing.”

Joey watched as Lucius pushed himself upright and turned toward the window. His broad shoulders filled the small room, and for a moment, he just stared outside, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the chair’s back.

“You know,” Lucius continued, his tone dropping into something softer, almost wistful, “it’s peaceful out here. No one bothers me. No noisy neighbors. No crowds pushing and shoving. Just me, the trees, and the animals.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “But sometimes, peace gets lonely.”

The firelight flickered behind Lucius, catching the sharp angles of his face. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said, gesturing vaguely with one hand, “I love the hunt. There’s nothing else like it. The thrill, the chase, the moment you finally take down the beast. It’s what keeps me out here. Keeps me from packing up and moving to some big, stinking city.”

Lucius leaned his head back and let out a slow breath. “But the hunt… it’s fleeting. A rush, and then it’s gone. And then what? You wait. You sit and wait for the next one.” His voice grew quieter, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to Joey. “Sometimes I think about leaving. But then I remember how much I hate people.”

Joey stayed silent, unsure whether to respond or just let the man talk.

Lucius turned back to face him, his grin returning, though it had a sharper edge now. He leaned forward over the chair, his eyes locking onto Joey’s. “You know what? I don’t care if you’re lying or telling the truth. Doesn’t matter. Life’s boring as hell anyway. I need a reason to shake things up.”

Joey blinked. “What… what do you mean?”

Lucius pushed off the chair and stood to his full height, crossing his arms as he studied Joey. “You’re in no position to say no, kid. Not after I saved your sorry ass and patched you up. That leg of yours would’ve had you dead in a week without me. You owe me.” His tone was firm but not unkind. He smirked. “So, I’m cashing in. I need an extra set of hands around here, and you’re it.”

Joey’s heart sank slightly as he tried to process Lucius’ words. He glanced at the man’s broad frame and confident stance, then back down at his own aching body, still held together with bandages and sheer stubbornness. “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?” he said, his voice carrying a note of resigned humor.

“Nope,” Lucius said with a laugh, clearly enjoying Joey’s discomfort.

Joey exhaled slowly, feeling a knot tighten in his chest. “Great. No idea how this is gonna end,” he muttered under his breath, the corners of his mouth twitching into a weak smile.

Lucius caught the look and barked out another laugh. “Relax, It’ll be good for you. Besides,” he added, clapping a hand on the back of the chair, “I could use the company. Don’t make me regret it.”

Joey gave him a nervous grin, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified. “Yeah. Sure. This’ll be… fine,” he said, trying to convince himself as much as Lucius.

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

"You must be starving," Lucius said, already making his way toward the small cooking area near the hearth. "You haven’t eaten since I found you, and who knows how long it was before that. If you’re gonna get back on your feet and help me, you’ll need a proper meal first."

Joey nodded weakly, the idea of food suddenly making him acutely aware of how empty his stomach was. “Yeah… that’d be great,” he said, managing a small smile.

Lucius grinned at the response, his energy picking up as he reached the corner of the room where a few cooking supplies were neatly arranged. “You’re in luck. I’ve got fresh meat, I caught it yesterday. A young boar, not too big, but plenty of meat. Tender, full of flavor. One of my favorite dishes. You’re going to love it.”

He gestured toward a wooden hook near the door, where a piece of the boar’s meat hung wrapped in cloth to keep it fresh. The cloth was stained with faint streaks of blood, and Lucius grabbed it with practiced ease, unwrapping the bundle to reveal a cleanly butchered cut of dark red meat.

“Nothing beats fresh meat,” Lucius said with enthusiasm, his grin widening as he set the meat on a flat stone slab near the hearth. "Especially boar. You’ve never tasted anything like it, I promise you."

Joey watched as Lucius worked, his movements quick and efficient. The hearth was clearly the centerpiece of the room for more than just warmth. It doubled as the cooking area. A small iron spit was set up over the glowing embers, and several clay pots and wooden bowls were arranged nearby, filled with coarse salt, dried herbs, and other basic ingredients.

Joey watched as Lucius worked, his movements quick and efficient. The hearth, nestled into the stone wall of the room, was clearly the centerpiece of the space. Unlike the sleek, modern stove tops Joey was used to.Stainless steel, gas burners, electric buttons but this was raw, primal. An open stone frame cradled the glowing embers, their orange light casting flickering shadows across the room. Thick blackened soot lined the inside of the hearth, evidence of years of fires built and meals prepared. Above the embers, a small iron spit was set up, its legs resting on the uneven stone floor, and Joey could see where the constant heat had warped the metal slightly over time.

The tools around the hearth were equally foreign to him. Instead of knives with polished blades and ergonomic handles, Lucius worked with simple, rugged instruments. A broad, flat blade with a wooden grip that looked hand-carved, a pair of tongs hammered from raw iron, and a heavy mortar and pestle stained with traces of ground herbs and spices. Joey couldn’t help but notice how each item seemed well-used, the marks of time etched into their surfaces. They weren’t clean and shiny like the utensils back home, but they had a strange charm, as though every scratch and stain told a story.

Scattered nearby were clay pots and wooden bowls, each one slightly irregular in shape, their rough edges betraying the fact that they were handmade. Inside them were the essentials: coarse grains of salt, dried herbs tied in bundles, and a few roots Joey didn’t recognize. There were no neat rows of spice jars or labeled ingredients, just a collection of earthy, practical items. Joey found himself wondering how Lucius could even keep track of it all.

No fridge, no timers, no fancy gadgets.

His gaze shifted to the embers themselves. They didn’t flicker like the controlled blue flames of a gas burner. Instead, they pulsed and shifted, alive in a way Joey hadn’t fully appreciated before. The heat was uneven, unpredictable, and yet Lucius seemed to know exactly where to place the meat for the perfect roast. He adjusted the spit with practiced ease, giving it a gentle turn every so often to keep the cooking even. The meat sizzled, small droplets of fat dripping onto the embers below and sending up wisps of smoke that carried the rich aroma through the room.

“This is so… primitive,” Joey thought, his mind drifting back to the modern kitchen he’d left behind. Back home, cooking was clean, efficient. A microwave or an air fryer could do in minutes what this setup probably took hours to accomplish. There were no endless adjustments, no embers to manage, no soot or ash to deal with. Yet, watching Lucius, Joey couldn’t deny the appeal of it all. There was a certain rhythm to it, a connection to the process that felt almost… meditative. It wasn’t just cooking, it was an act of survival, care, and maybe even pride.

For a moment, Joey let himself imagine how ridiculous he’d look trying to work with this setup. He could barely boil pasta without overcooking it back home, and here was Lucius, effortlessly preparing a feast over an open fire like it was second nature.

Lucius grabbed a handful of what looked like dried rosemary and crushed it between his fingers, letting the fragrant leaves sprinkle over the meat. “Simple seasonings are all you need,” he said, his tone almost instructional. “A bit of salt, some herbs. Anything more is just a waste.”

Joey couldn’t help but notice how Lucius seemed to enjoy the process. He moved with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times, sprinkling the meat with a pinch of coarse salt and rubbing it in with a firm hand.

“You cook indoors?” Joey asked, curious. In his mind, he pictured Lucius cooking outside, over an open fire in the woods.

Lucius nodded. “Mostly. Keeps the smell and smoke in one place, especially when the weather’s bad. But sometimes I take it outside. Nothing beats fresh air and a roaring fire.”

He turned to grab a clay pot filled with rendered animal fat, scooping a small amount onto the meat. “This’ll keep it juicy while it roasts,” he explained, his enthusiasm clear. He threaded the meat onto the spit and set it over the embers, adjusting it carefully to ensure even cooking.

As the meat began to sizzle and the room filled with the rich aroma of roasting boar, Lucius stepped back, rubbing his hands together. “Now we wait. Shouldn’t take too long.”

Joey felt his stomach growl audibly, and Lucius laughed. “See? Even your gut knows I’m a damn good cook.”

Joey chuckled nervously. “Well, it already smells amazing, so I’m not gonna argue.”

Lucius grinned, pulling a wooden stool closer to the hearth and sitting down. “You’ll like it, I promise. Once you’ve had boar like this, you’ll never want anything else.”

The fire crackled softly as the two sat in companionable silence, the scent of roasting meat filling the small house. Joey watched the flames dance, his mind momentarily at ease despite everything.

Both men sat quietly, staring into the flickering flames of the hearth. The soft crackle of wood burning filled the air, an almost hypnotic rhythm as the flames danced and sent faint shadows playing across the walls. Small pieces of bark snapped and popped, adding brief, sharp notes to the otherwise quiet room. Outside, the day had faded into dusk, and the first chirps of crickets began to echo through the forest.

"You know," Lucius said suddenly, his voice low, his gaze still fixed on the fire, "it’s been a long time since I’ve sat with someone here in the evenings."

Joey turned his head slightly toward him. "Are you always alone out here?"

Lucius nodded, leaning forward to pick up a small piece of wood and toss it gently into the fire. His motion was unhurried, a casual flick of his wrist as the piece landed among the embers and began to glow. "Yeah. I’ve been out here alone for years now. The only people I see are in the market of the nearest town. I go there every few weeks to sell meat, furs, and buy the things I can’t make myself."

Joey frowned, glancing back at the fire. "Doesn’t that get… lonely? Being completely surrounded by the forest? And, well… things that could kill you?"

Lucius chuckled, his grin catching the firelight as he leaned back slightly, resting his hands on his knees. "There are far fewer things here trying to kill me than in any city, let alone a big one. Out here, I rely on myself, and the only thing that can kill me is my own stupidity." His grin widened. "But yeah, you’re not wrong. It does get lonely sometimes. Still, I prefer this over the chaos of city life."

As he spoke, he leaned forward again, picking up the last of the firewood. He tossed it into the flames piece by piece, each movement deliberate. "Here," he said, standing and stretching slightly, "the food should be ready by now. We’ll leave the fire going. A little warmth while eating never hurt anyone, right?" His tone was rhetorical, the grin on his face still intact.

Joey chuckled softly. "Yeah, a little warmth never hurts."

He shifted slightly, bracing himself to stand, but the sharp ache in his leg forced him to grimace. His movements were slow and stiff as he tried to push himself up.

"Don’t bother." Lucius made a small, dismissive gesture with his hand, motioning for Joey to stay seated. "I’ll handle it. But when it’s time to sleep, you’ll have to drag yourself to bed. I’ll show you where after we eat." said Lucius with a grin. He stepped away toward the hearth, grabbing a thick cloth to wrap around the iron handle of the pot.

Joey leaned back, nodding slightly, grateful for the reprieve. He watched as Lucius worked with practiced efficiency. The hunter placed a clay pot in the center of the table, steam rising as the rich scent of roasted boar filled the room. The table, though simple, was neatly arranged. Clay bowls, unevenly shaped and clearly handmade, sat at each place, along with wooden spoons carved from dark, worn wood. There were no forks or knives; everything was meant to be shared and eaten by hand or spoon.

Lucius sat down with a satisfied grin, pouring a bit of the stew into each bowl. The aroma was intoxicating, earthy and savory, with hints of herbs and roasted meat. He handed a bowl to Joey before grabbing his own.

"Bene tibi sit!" Lucius said, grinning broadly as he raised his spoon to his mouth. The phrase felt natural, his Latin crisp and casual, though there was an almost ceremonial pride in the way he said it.

"Bene tibi sit!" Joey repeated, his smile weaker but genuine as his stomach growled audibly.

Lucius laughed heartily at the sound. "Let’s eat before your stomach decides to devour itself!"

Joey chuckled nervously and took his first bite. The warmth of the stew spread through him instantly, its rich, unfamiliar flavor unlike anything he’d ever tasted. For a moment, the strangeness of his situation melted away, replaced by the simple, comforting act of sharing a meal. In this fleeting moment, after everything that had happened in such a short time, he felt at peace.