“It’s good to see you up and about sport,” his father said lovingly as they came together. “When I tried to wake you this morning I figured you no longer amongst the living, died of old age I thought. I planned to try and get you out of the house when I got home before you started stinking up the place.”

Ren’s father, Davin Voland, was a relatively normal looking man at first glance. He had an average build, average height, and much to his mother’s annoyance short brown hair that never wanted to cooperate. When Ren asked his mother what had made her so taken with him, she answered simply “His beautiful eyes,” and that was the end of that conversation. However, Ren had agreed, his father’s eyes were a beautiful shade of forest green, with golden flecks around the edges.

Corbett laughed, “I see what you mean Davin, with the size of the bags under his eyes I would have thought the same.”

Corbett Smithson, by rich contrast, was a mountain of a man. He was a head taller than his father and about twice as wide, pure rippling muscle. Ren always found it kind of gross when he saw him working, as his muscles moved very clearly under his skin. His skin was darker than his father’s, almost leathery, and had numerous scars on his bare head and back of his neck from sun-blisters.

Ren reddened, but he was not unfamiliar to this type of teasing from them. Brushing off their comments he responded with no small amount of venom, “Better these bags under my eyes then those spots on your head.”

Corbett’s eyes widened in surprise “Oh… one year older and you still have no respect for your elders? Davin this child of yours is going to grow into a handful I’m afraid.”

“He’s a handful now,” her father replied sadly, but his eyes were smiling. Ren’s father squinted, looking ahead of them, “Gena? Is that you? What are you doing this close to the edge of the village? Does your father know you are out here?”

At the sound of his voice Gena jumped out of her impromptu hiding spot in surprise. “Oh, good morning Mr. Voland. I was waiting for your son to come back. We saw that you were having a sort of meeting, so Ren wanted to go and check it out.” She seemed to relax now that Ren was back.

“Oh, I see… would you like to join us? We are making our way back home. I had planned on stopping by your father’s place to pick up some venison for tonight.”

“Oh yes please! Father will be very happy! I think the fletcher brothers just brought in a boar if you wanted ham instead.”

Corbett jumped in, “oh I might have to pick up some of that boar meat before everyone else gets their grubby hands on it. Do you know when they brought it in Gena?”

“I think it was midday yesterday…” Gena paused. “Now that I think about it the Boar might not be prepared fully just yet, but you can definitely ask father to hold some for you.”

“I will do that! They hardly ever catch boar; I’ve heard it’s dangerous. I think the last time I had it was when I was living in the capital…”

“I think that I will as well. It’s not often we get ham in these parts. Best take advantage of it when we can,” finished off his father.

When the group reached the Barrow Family’s home and dropped off Gena, they had a short discussion with her father, Brandon, and split off from Corbett as he went towards his house to get ready.

“Mr. Barrow was very kind to give us the venison for free,” volunteered Ren.

“Yes, he said that since he was unable to go to your party yesterday, as he was bleeding the boar, that this is your birthday present from them.”

“That’s so nice of them, but they shouldn’t have done that, meat is expensive.”

His father reached over and ruffled her hair, “oh come off it. You are only twelve, you don’t need to sound like an old man.”

He huffed, “I do not sound like an old man…”

“You sure looked like one this morning. Slobbering all over the place, snoring up a storm. I’m surprised that the neighbors didn’t come by to complain.”

At that moment, they walked through the door to their home, with Ren punching his father in the gut, and his father attempting unsuccessfully to dodge the angry blow. He instead ended up just running into the door frame.

“Oh, so we just come home roughhousing now. You would think I had two teenage boys instead of a husband and a son.” Ren’s mother was standing in the center of the kitchen, arms crossed with a towel over her shoulder.

“He started it,” his father mumbled rubbing his arm.

“Whatever dad,” pouted Ren.

“What did I just say?” his mother said sternly. “And what are you two doing back so early? I didn’t figure you back until dinner.”

His father gestured at Ren for peace and attempted to strike up a different line of conversation. Asking her if she was aware of the representative in town and informing her about the town meeting at dusk.

“Well, we still have awhile until dusk, so let’s eat then get ready. We don’t want to be the ones holding up the meeting.”

His father handed over the venison that he received from the Barrow family and started getting the kitchen ready. His mother had already straightened up the house and cleaned up the kitchen from her work this morning. The potatoes already peeled, only needed to be mashed. Ren, since the kitchen was quite cramped with three people moving around in it, stood in the doorway waiting for instruction. It was an amazing sight he thought, how fluidly they worked together. They made cooking look fun, not just a chore. The way they playfully pushed each other as they moved around the kitchen. His mother flinging mashed up potatoes at him from across the room after he spanked her, both of them laughing all the while. Ren knew he would be the one to clean it up later, but he could probably convince his father to help since it was his fault, especially if he asked him in front of his mother.

His father had finished searing the venison and was letting the meat rest, when he stabbed a piece of the meat that was too small to really give to anyone. “Mary, do you want a bite?” he asked as he dipped it in the sauce he was making from the rendered fats.

The smell was divine, so much so that it had Ren salivating. The herbs that he used made the kitchen smelled of Basil, Rosemary, and Thyme. And the sauce was of a hardy brown-red color that he loved to make.

“It looks great Davin, I’m sure it’s delicious.” She leaned over and bit the dripping, glistening piece of meat directly off the knife. She smiled, eyes closed, as she chewed slowly.

This was too much for Ren to handle. “Dad! I want some too!” he yelled crossing his arms.

He frowned, already with another piece on the blade, “but I wanted this one, and I haven’t punched anyone today, so I think I deserve it more.” He said as he eyed it curiously.

“Mom…” he looked to his mother basically on the verge of tears.

“Oh, just give it to him Davin, I can see you already have another piece set aside.”

He smiled, chagrined, “alright alright, here you are sport. How does it taste?”

“Too much salt…” he tried to say, but his face really couldn’t hide the smile that was causing his face to crack.

“Wow! You know you could stand to be a bit nicer to me. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you so to speak.”

“Ok fine… Its ok I guess…” he said as he bit his cheek, his eyes squinted, pure venom in his voice. “Mom is there anything you need me to do?”

“How about you clear a spot outside Ren. The food is almost done.” his mother recommended, without turning around.

“Sure, thing mom!” he turned around, sticking his tongue out at his father as he left.

During the warmer months the Voland’s would eat outside on a few stumps they would use as stools with some split logs stacked against their house that they used as their table. Ren walked outside grabbed a bucket, rag, and began clearing the table of debris. The wood was worn out after many years of use, making it soft and smooth to the touch. Dumping the bucket of water on the table, he began scrubbing away at the more difficult to remove dirt. When he overheard his parents talking.

“You guys play around too much Davin. Do you have to tease him so much?”

“He’s strong, he can handle it. Plus, most of the time he is the one instigating it.”

“Sometimes I really do think I married a child. How did you ever convince me to marry you.”

His father laughed, “Oh please, we both know why you fell in love with me.” There was a solid smack and her mother giggled, “and there is no man alive that would turn down thee Mary Voland.”

Ren hadn’t heard much about how his parents met. The first thing he remembered was the village, but he knew that mother and grandfather traveled the world before he was born. His grandfather had been a well-renowned trader after all, however the stories he told had painted himself more as an explorer than anything else.

“Well still, I wouldn’t say I love his rougher tendencies. I still remember the day he came into our lives. He looked regal, even ethereal,” his mother said.

His father laughed, “The way his hair had floated around his head did make it look as if he was wearing a crown, and the way it g…

“Davin.” His mother’s voice was sharp as it cut in, within it, a warning, and Ren could almost feel the air around him freeze.

He coughed, “… the… the way it shined in the moonlight” he coughed again as if to clear the air, “What a magical day… I’m sure any father would say the same.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

The conversation halted from that point on, which frustrated Ren, as he had climbed on top of the table and was attempting to push his head through the wall to be able to hear better. His father was a confident man and he had never heard him stumble over his words. It was strange, it sounded for a moment as if he was about to say something else. While he was lost in his thoughts his mother called out for him.

“Ren, I don’t hear you scrubbing anymore, does that mean you’re done?”

“Sorry mom! I got distracted!” Ren jumped feeling sheepish that he was eavesdropping.

“With?”

Not wanting to get caught Ren’s eyes frantically darted around him to try and find something of interest to placate his mother. They eventually rested on a rather strange bird that was sitting on the kitchen windowsill. It wasn’t a breed he had seen before. It was dark blue, almost black, with shiny black pebblelike eyes, and probably no bigger than his small hand. But that isn’t why he found it strange. It was perfectly still, staring into the kitchen, then it slowly turned its head and looked right at him. It was unnerving, it felt… unnatural, almost… mechanical. His tongue felt frozen, unable to break eye contact with the strange bird. He could feel nothing in its eyes, like it was dead, but its body didn’t know. In the few moments that he didn’t respond, his mother opened the front door which apparently frightened the bird, which took off with amazing speed.

“So, you think you’re old enough to ignore your mother now huh?” She looked serious as she looked at her son standing on the table. “Or is this a new way to clean the table?” Ren’s mother took one last glare at his father and refocused on him. “Well? What’s got you distracted?”

He pointed, “uh… there was a bird… over there… I had never seen anything like it before… but, well, it flew away when you opened the door.”