A violent storm approached from the northwestern sea, its blustery winds surging through Jobi's long, black locks as he stood at the peak of the hill, and for several seconds he was a soldier of the Kingdom of Illacor; an elite horseman of that fabled cavalry unit, the "Screamin' Falcons." Atop his tall, black warhorse, cavalry rifle in hand, he overlooked the battlefield before him with indifference. Goblins or no goblins, it mattered not who stood in his path. Such fools, they would either part or be parted.

Captain Jobius Amadaia would personally see to it.

"Jobi! Mama told you not to leave me behind!"

Jobi's warhorsechanged back to a simple brown-fur (one he had affectionately named "Brownie" during his pre-teenager years), the cavalry rifle to his cheap hunting bow, and the battlefield of goblins to a field of wild shrubbery and anxious critters, scurrying this way and that to evade the forthcoming downpour.

Father once told us that sometimes dreams imitate life, the sixteen-year-old boy thought, sighing and turning toward his younger brother, toward boring normalcy. I just wish sometimes dreams were life.

"You weren't far behind," he said with a thin smile. "I knew where you were the entire time."

The younger Amadaia, Moba, stopped his horse just behind his older brother's. His horse was a white-fur, but with yellow hair instead of brown. Moba had named her Sunny.

"Then why didn't you answer me when I yelled for you?"

"Because you must face life with bravery."

"You sound like father," Moba pouted as he lowered his head. Then he recited one of their late father's favorite phrases, "Face your troubles with a brave soul, a sharp mind, and a passionate heart."

The words sliced through Jobi's own heart and he realized (certainly not for the first time) that he still missed his father more than anything else in the world. Father Surra, a brown-skinned man who'd been brave enough to marry a white-skinned woman in the deep rural barony of New Ranaan and raise their family there, had passed on to the final cobblestone road just three years prior, Baar rest his soul.

"Yes, well… sometimes I feel like father when I have to look after you." He smiled as his hand brushed playfully through Moba's curly set of red hair (the color from his mother, the curls from his father) and he was thankful to see his brother return the smile. "You aregrowin' fast, though. You're already a better rider than I was at your age."

Moba looked up at his older brother with bright blue eyes filled with wonder and pride. "Really?"

No, not really. But sometimes a little white lie went a long way. "That's what I said, didn't I? You and Sunny are quite a pair."

At that moment, lightening streaked across an ominous sky. Ten minutes ago Jobi could have sworn the storm had still been far in the west. Now the overcast sky was a dark green canopy, surrounded by clouds as black as a witch's hat.

"I think you better head back home, though," Jobi said as he stared up at the swift-moving clouds. The storm would be upon them soon. "The storm's about to hit, and it ain't gonna be a soft one by the looks of it."

Moba opened his mouth as if to protest, but one glance at the sky changed all of that, a look of dread overtaking his pale, freckled face. He also appeared to miss the word you leaving Jobi's mouth as opposed to we. "Yeah, it don't look no good, does it?"

"No, not at all."

Moba turned Sunny around and started back toward their town of Boulder, only to stop when he realized Jobi and Brownie hadn't budged an arm-length.

"Come on, Jobi! I wanna get home before it starts rainin'! You know Sunny don't like gettin' wet!"

The truth was that Moba was deathly afraid of storms, but Moba had a knack for playing the Sunny-don't-like-gettin'-wet card. Again, little white lies sometimes did wonders, even when older brothers saw past them.

"I think I'll stay out for a while. Tell mother I found a plump buck for dinner tomorrow and I wanted to catch it."

"But… but…"

"Don't argue with me, Moba. I'll be home soon." Another white lie. It wasn't difficult to trick a nine-year-old boy who looked up to you as a disciple does to his gods and goddesses.

"But what'll you tell mama when you don't come home with nothin'? You almost always come home with somethin' when you go huntin'."

Jobi smiled at that, partially because of Moba's cleverness and partially because Moba was right.

"I'll just tell her the thunder and the lightening finally got to Brownie's nerves and I had to turn around. And who knows, mayhap I'll come across a buck after all. They get skittish when storms come, but if I get lucky I'll bring 'im down and mama will fix us a fine barbecue tomorrow evenin'. How's that sound?" Moba loved barbecue, just as his chubby little belly attested to, and Jobi watched his brother lick his lips and grin. "We'll invite your friends over and everything," Jobi said. Then, grinning himself, he added, "Maybe that cute little girl from the schoolhouse, too. What's her name? Alesia, I think?"

Moba's cheeks turned to a shade of red darker than Jobi thought imaginable. "That sounds pretty good!"

"Then hurry along now. I'll see to that buck if I can, I promise."

Jobi watched, feeling somewhat guilty, until his brother disappeared behind a hill in the distance. Boulder wasn't too far beyond that hill and he knew Moba would get there safely. If the rain came down before Moba could make it home, mama would wrap him in warm blankets and probably even fix him a batch of her homemade cookies. Sugar and dough weren't cheap, but she still had some left. Besides, she usually reserved them for rainy days anyway.

Such thoughts almost made Jobi jealous, but he knew his little brother would be comforted and that made him happy. He didn't enjoy lying, but he needed to get away. He needed to be alone, if only for a little bit.

He looked toward the forest just ahead of him. It was a grand forest comprised of the tallest and thickest trees around, and Jobi liked to call the forest his thinking zone; place of serenity, just him and his horse and nature. His father once called nature Baar's greatest gift to mankind. Jobi figured his father had been right.

Because the truth was that he aimed to ride through the forest, along the tiny dirt path left behind by the old forest-dwellers of centuries past, and there he would think… and think again… and then think so more. There were decisions to be made and, if he had his way, he would have them decided before the moon could fully rise.

If I'm lucky, just like the buck I promised Moba. If I'm lucky.

He had only one thought at that time, its relentless claws digging deeper and deeper and deeper into his indecisive heart.

Would he run away from home to join the army or not?

Jobi rode for what seemed far longer than a couple of hours, but a couple of hours it was. He would not be arriving home "soon" as he had told his brother, nor did he have an answer to his mother's imminent questioning, but none of that mattered to him. Those weren't the thoughts he couldn't get out of his head.

It was a question he would have thought insane a half-year prior. Leave the only home he had ever known? Leave his mother and brother? Leave the farm? Leave everything behind just to embark on some stupid, childish dream every little boy has?

But that was just it. It wasn't stupid. It wasn't childish.

Jobi was not arrogant, but he was confident. He wasn't confident in only his ability to ride a horse and his ability to shoot a rifle and pistol, but also (most importantly, too, given his steep aspirations) his ability to shoot while riding. It was a rare skill in the peaceful, isolated countryside barony of New Ranaan, let alone their tiny town of Boulder. He could even outshoot most of the militia in town. That wasn't saying much, of course, for the militia was mostly made up of farmers, men who were too tired after a long day's labor to care about learning how to properly shoot a gun atop a horse when they knew they would probably never even need to. The New Ranaan barony within the Kingdom of Illacor sat on the eastern edge of the kingdom, far away from any sort of conflict.

But those men didn't want to fight for their kingdom's army. Jobidid.

Call it stubbornness, call it determination, but Jobi wanted to be part of the Illacor Army. His mind set, his heart relieved, he had finally come to a decision.

He started to turn Brownie around and head back home, and it was at this moment he realized just how far he'd ridden… but only because he didn't even know where he was. The dirt path below him had apparently been replaced with tall, untamed grass up to Brownie's legs at an arm's length, but he hadn't the slightest idea when that had occurred.

I don't even think I've been this far from home. Not this far to the southeast, at least. He peered behind him, hoping to find the path again, but he couldn't see a thing. Mother Moon was at her peak in the sky, her sparkling children surrounding her, no doubt filling her with requests that she would continue to ignore until she finally caught up to that no-good Father Sun. But he could only see moon when looking straight up, and even that offered only a small glimpse within a break in the trees. Otherwise, the leaves on the trees were quite thick. He found that he could barely see at all. He was shocked, even, that he'd gotten this far without realizing he'd ridden off the dirt path.

Guess I kinda… dozed off, in a way.

"What do you think, Brownie?" he asked, petting his horse's mane and patting softly against her snout with his free hand. He thought he was appeasing Brownie's nerves, but Brownie wasn't the one who was spooked. Jobi was spooked, though he didn't yet know it. "Which way's home?"

Brownie neighed indifferently as if to say "I'm a horse, not a guide." So the two of them stood there, Jobi with his eyes peering in every direction and Brownie sniffing curiously at the grass.

And then something caught Jobi's eyes.

It was ahead of them down a straight clearing between the trees, as if the trees had been separated by the hands of giants. Still further away from town and probably about a minute's ride away, but it caught his attention when nothing else that evening had. It was a sparkle, like a magi's light, similar to the traveling magician who had stopped in town several years ago. Faint, but definitely there.

He patted Brownie's snout again. "It's all right, don't be afraid. We'll just take a quick peek and head home."

And once more, the horse was not afraid. Jobi was afraid, and suddenly he finally realized it himself. He was very afraid.

Now all he could think about were wolves and bears and monsters... mostly monsters; monsters that snatched away little boys, drinking their blood and dining on their tiny little bones. And if there weren't any wolves or bears, what about werewolves and werebears?

And now Jobi suddenly realized, despite having never been so far from home by himself, that he had seen the very trees around him before. He'd seen them in childhood picture books, witches whose bodies were made entirely of wood. These trees were just like those witches, their pointy branch-like arms stretching toward him, with their leafy hands grasping to take hold and drag him underground, where they would grind his bones into powder for their weird concoctions and rip out his organs to help raise the dead.

Stop it! Stop it right now! You are being ridiculous! There are no such things as werewolves or werebears or wooden witches!

A shiver shot down Jobi's spine as if to protest, but he clucked at Brownie and the two of them started off toward the sparkling light.

It bobbed to and fro like an energetic child who cannot sit still.

No… No, this is impossible. Night is only playing tricks again, as he is often wont to do.

But was that the truth? As he rode closer and closer, until he was no more than ten arm-lengths away, the ball of light was still present. It zigzagged left and right before stilling itself, where it then immediately disappeared. Jobi's heart dropped faster than the axe of an executioner, but soon he realized the light hadn't disappeared at all. Now that the light was gone and there was no longer such a bright presence to blind his eyesight, the tiny mouth of a cave stood before him.

He stopped Brownie and hopped down. The horse whinnied (the first time it had done so, though Jobi unfortunately took no notice of this) and Jobi massaged its snout and whispered into its ear. "I'll be right back," he said. "I just wanna take a look inside real quick."

I am? I'm going in there? I don't even know if I can fit through the entrance!

But before he could answer those questions, his legs moved him forward, leaving a continuously whinnying Brownie behind.

Luckily for Jobi, he was a perfect fit, though he did have to crawl on his hands and knees. For a moment he thought the shortened hunting bow strapped to his back would catch on a jutting rock, but he made it through in one piece.

He pushed himself from the ground and stood, wiping off tiny rocks, leaves and sticks (and dirt… plenty of dirt). In front of him, probably fifty paces away, moonlight shone down from a break within the cave's roof. On the floor the light enveloped a statue, some kind of human-like form in a sitting position. Only… the statue moved.

"No… no it didn't," Jobi whispered to himself. "That's impossible. Statues don't move."

And little balls of light aren't real, but you just followed one into this cave.

"I… I was probably seeing things!"

Frightened merely by having a conversation with himself, Jobi decided he'd had enough. It was time to leave just as quickly as he had arrived.

But when he turned around he found that the entrance had… well… it simply wasn't there anymore.

Horrified, Jobi got down on his hands and knees and poked around, as if pushing some part of the rock wall would bring back the mouth he had ventured through. No such luck, of course. It was gone, as if it hadn't been there at all.

A moan came from the center of the cave, where the statue presided, and before Jobi knew what he was doing he had the hunting bow in hand, a wooden arrow knocked back. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do with it – on any other day, he would have found such a reaction quite hilarious, knocking an arrow with his sight set on a statue.

I want to go home, he thought, trying his best not to cry. He was almost an adult and he would not cry… but that didn't stop him from doing it on the inside. Please, Baar, let me get out of here alive. I just wanna see my brother and my mom again, even the farm! I won't run away from home, I promise! Please, let me out of here, PLEASE!

Another groan escaped from the statue, only Jobi couldn't be sure it actually came from the statue. Could be that an animal had crawled in the cave to die. Could be.

Then something happened and Jobi knew it was no animal.

"Come, child," whispered a voice, smooth and soothing as it fluttered through the air like the wind. It was sweet to Jobi's ears, and he found himself moving forward without effort. "Come," that voice repeated.

It mattered not if he wanted to go, for that voice was too charming, too relaxing. As if his body were bound by magic, Jobi walked all the way to the statue only to realize it wasn't a statue at all. For how comforting and beautiful that voice had sounded, its source was the most grotesque… thing… Jobi had ever laid eyes on. It looked human enough, only Jobi didn't think there was any possible way it could be. It sat with its eyes closed, its back resting against a tall pillar made from some type of white, stone-like material, rising halfway to the roof of the cave like the hand of a boy whose hands are aren't quite long enough to reach the cookie jar on his mother's counter

The… thing… its skin was tight, like clothing three sizes too small. It was the color of salmon, Jobi thought, yet it also had a leathery look to it; rough, as if worn down by centuries of use. Where there should have been ears on the sides of the thing's head, in its place were two holes. Only now did Jobi see that a thin stream of blood rushed through these holes like a slow-moving waterfall. And where there should have been a nose, instead there was a hole similar to those on the side of its head, though no blood shot from this one.

It sat with its long, slender arms crossed in front of a bare chest, clothed only by a thin of brown cloth shorts. Jobi noticed that the… thing… was bound at the wrist by a chain, its silvery metal far too shiny compared to the general dirtiness and roughness of the cave.

The… thing… it spoke again. And when it did, its eyes opened to reveal complete whiteness.

"Tell me, child," it breathed, barely above a whisper. Oh, that voice! That peacefulness! "Does the sun still rise at dawn?"

From the moonlight Jobi could see its teeth, jagged little teeth resembling dirty knives that hadn't been cleaned in years.

"Y-yes," Jobi managed to mutter. Goosebumps that felt the size of goose eggsformed upon his arms.

"Good," the thing whispered. "And what of the moon? Does it still rise at dusk?"

"Y-Yes."

Jobi didn't want to be there, anywhere but there, even tending to the farm, to his uncle's horse ranch, to helping his mother carry goods to Sun's Perch in the north. Anywhere but where he now found himself.

Face your troubles with a brave soul, a sharp mind, and a passionate heart.

Never had those words felt more useless.

"This is also good," The thing said. It took a deep breath, almost like a sigh of relief, and closed its eyes. "Then the world has not yet turned."

Jobi was sixteen years old (not far from seventeen, in fact), something he often told his mother. Anything to grant him more responsibility. But now he felt like a little boy, a scared little boy trapped in a living nightmare. For a split second he thought about pinching himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but how useless that would have been. What he saw before him was real.

And the worst part was that he knew it.

"You are afraid of me."

Not a question. A statement.

"Well… y-yes. I… I am. I came into this cave, but now the entrance is gone. And I… I… I don't even know… what you are."

Jobi thought for sure the latter sentence would spell his doom (what you are what you are what you are, Gods why did I say that?), but he was thankful to see it did not. A wide smile spread across the… thing's… face, and for several moments all of Jobi's fears were cast aside.

"I can assure you, child, there is no need for fear. Why, I am no more dangerous than a butterfly. And have you ever heard of a dangerous butterfly?"

Jobi had to smile at that. It was hard not to smile at that voice. "No, I ain't suppose I have."

"Indeed." If possible, the thing's smile only widened. Its eyes were still closed. "I cannot hear you, nor can I see or smell you. I am neither unable to feel the ground beneath me, nor am I able to taste the air around me. No, they took my senses away… but they forgot to take away my sense of sense, if you understand me. Do you? Ah, I see not. There has always been a sixth sense, though the peculiarity of that one is known, and fiercely studied, mostly by sorcerers, witches and others with magical properties, or with ways of obtainingmagical properties. Worry not, however. Either way, I sense you very well. I sense that you do not enjoy my blinded eyes, which is why they remain closed. I sense that you do not care for the way my body presents itself, but I promise you I was not always like this. And I also sense that you are afraid."

"Who… who are you? What are you doing here? Who put you here?"

For the first time since Jobi had arrived, the… thing... moved. It wriggled left and right, almost as if trying to free itself from its chained binding. Jobi noticed that its feet (scarred, chafed, grotesque objects in their own right) were bound at the ankles, and another metal chain wrapped around its waist. All three chains connected to a metal lock jutting from the pillar.

"Would you prefer the complex answer or the simple answer?" The thing opened its eyes. For a moment Jobi reeled, but in the end he figured it would be best to try and ignore them, no matter how creepy he found those blank eyes.

"Well, I… wait." Jobi's eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"

A laugh escaped the thing's mouth, a sound that reverberated off the walls and filled Jobi with joy. Like the voice, that life was soothing, comforting. He felt that if he were stricken with some deadly, mysterious disease, all he would need would be to hear that laugh and he would be cured.

"I know a great number of things, Jobius Amadaia. It is why I am here, after all. They were afraid… jealous, even!" At the word jealous, Jobius thought he sensed a change of tone in the thing's voice. Anger? Hatred? "Is that not unfair, Jobius? They were jealous of who I am, whatI am, and they locked me away forever. I do not find that fair. Not in the slightest. What do you think about that?"

"I… don't r-reckon I can answer that question," Jobi said, his voice wavering. Again, that change in tone…

"Ah, of course you cannot," the thing continued, shrugging its shoulder as if expecting such an answer. "You are but a mortal living in a mortal realm. How could I assume you would be familiar with the affairs of the Abode?"

"The Abode?"

"Yes, yes," the thing said, as if impatiently indifferent to the subject. "It is really not such a grand place, I can assure you that. Home to the deities, but… ehh… not as exciting as one would believe. Why, I find it quite like this world, Teír. Yes, Teír and the Abode hold a plethora of similarities. Unfortunately not all of them are nice. Politics play too much of a role in both places. The Abode is filled with pretention, back-stabbing and petty squabbling. And jealousy, of course. We cannot forget that, now can we? Those traits we also find here on Teír. So, as I said, not much difference really. You need not seem so enthralled, child. Believe me when I say you are not missing out on much, and be sure to treasure your time on this world as long as you can."

Jobi was silent for a moment, considering what he'd just heard. "So you're… like… kinda like a fallen angel?"

Another laugh. So pleasing, so uplifting! "Yes, if you fancy such a title, I suppose one could say that."

"But you still haven't told me why you're here, why you're locked up."

"Oh... but I have, Jobius! They were jealous and so they banished me to the world below the Abode. Please excuse my rambling, Jobius, for my tongue has a habit of flickering away! And I have not had anyone to talk to in quite some time! Why… seven hundred years, I do believe?"

Seven centuries… by the Gods, seven centuries!

"Now that I have answered your question, would you please release these bindings of mine? They are dreadfully painful! I would do it myself, but… well… that is somewhat impossible." A pause, a stare into nothingness as he looked away, and then he looked back at Jobi and added, "Okay, literally impossible. All part of the curse."

"Curse? I… I don't understand. Why would the Gods lock you away? Did you do something bad?"

"Bad is a subjective term, my child," the thing said, and again there was that change in tone. Jobi knew he better be careful not to upset it. "But, no… I did nothing bad. If you really must know, I found a way to… make the Abode better. Yes, much better. A few select circles cared not for my idea because they had not thought of it first, grew envious, and decided to curse me away. I almost defeated them! I did! But alas, their numbers were too great, and eventually I succumbed to their combined power. Now will you release me? Do this, and I will tell you the rest someday. It isquite the story, after all."

"I… I don't know…"

There was something very wrong about the situation, and only now did Jobius feel it. He knew nothing about a sixth sense the… thing… had mentioned, but he knew he sensed something.

"Come, child, be not afraid. You have nothing to worry about. The key… it rests on the wall to your right. Grab the key, unlock my bindings… set my soul free once again."

But that voice… it was impossible to ignore. Before he knew it was happening, Jobius found himself walking (no, it was more like floating) to the wall on his right. There, a golden key dangled from a golden loop. He grabbed the key, felt vibrations shake the floor, and watched as rocks fell from the roof, crumbling into tiny pieces as they hit the floor.

"The key," the thing said, and now it was whispering again. That voice filled Jobius' ears like the sweetest music in the entire world, simply impossible to ignore. "Bring thy key, unlock my bearings… set me free."

Jobi stood, frozen in place. The rocks that fell grew in size. Stalactites pierced the floor like gigantic bolts and the vibrations continued. It felt as if the floor would eventually give in if–

"DO NOT DAWDLE, HUMAN! THE KEY! BRING THY KEY!"

Jobi looked back to the… thing… and, to his horror, blood poured profusely from not only the holes where its ears should have been, but from the place where its nose should have been as well. Even the eyes, now wide open and filled with sheer rage. Like water from a hose, the blood poured and poured and poured and it didn't seem as if it would ever stop. The thing's leathery skin now dripped with rose-colored liquid as thick as syrup.

"No! I… I can't!"

"Yes, you can." That voice again… The rage was gone. What Jobi heard now filled him with a happiness he'd never felt before. "And you will. Now."

Though he didn't tell them to, Jobi's legs moved and soon he found himself standing before the… thing. Rocks continued to fall, the ground continued to shake, and now there was a new sound. It sounded like someone screaming, like many people screaming at once.

The screams came from the key.

Jobius had only a second to look at the key before he (again, not telling himself to) placed it inside the lock protruding from the pillar. It was a perfect fit the very first try, and he turned the key to the left. As he did so, the screaming immediately ceased. The vibrations stopped, as did the rocks falling from the ceiling. And now, looking up to his right, he saw that the ball of had returned, floating down from the break in the ceiling.

As it fluttered downward, Jobi glanced at the… thing… and saw its face, its joyful face. And though it was supposedly blinded, Jobi knew the thing sensed the light…

… and immediately he understood.

Unlock my bindings, set my soul free…

"His soul," he said aloud, watching the ball of light. "What have I done?"

It was but a whisper, and it went ignored by the thing that sat before him. Suddenly the ball of light flew straight for the thing's bare chest. It exploded on impact, momentarily blinding Jobi

When he once more regained focus, standing before Jobi was the tallest man he had ever seen.

The thing, but no longer just a thing.

"Gods…"

"No," the thing answered. It resembled more of man than it did before, but there was still something that wasn't right. Something. "Never again will I answer to any god. And I have you to thank for that, Jobius Amadaia."

Its height had to be seven arm-lengths. Its skin was still the color of salmon, though somewhat darker, healthier than before. The thing was still pathetically scrawny, but there was a great happiness upon its face. It hovered above the ground half an arm-length.

Now it had ears and a nose that looked relatively normal in size and shape. And the eyes… there were as green as a basket full of emeralds. Looking into them was like…

Like listening to his voice, Jobi thought sorrowfully. So soothing… he tricked me. He could not stop himself from crying, and he found that he no longer cared.

"Though this is still far too powerless of a body, I do believe this form suits me better than the prior. What do you think?"

Jobius, speechless, could only shake his head, back stepping.

Laughing, the man said to him, "You still fear me." He waited, as if wanting a response from Jobi, but the boy was certainly unable for speech. "Worry not, for we will meet again. And, if I have my way, very soon. For now, though, I must bid you farewell. You may have freed my soul, but my body is not yet… fit for this world. Soon it will, though. Very, very soon. Thank you, Jobius Amadaia, for giving me one last chance. There was once a time where I thought perhaps the prophecy would prove false after all, but now you have given me new hope. I shall never forget this day. You have shown quite a brave soul. I am sure your father would have been proud."

Before Jobi could respond, if he could respond, he was swallowed by darkness.

He awoke to being licked. Sitting up straight, eyes wide with fear, he stared up into the eyes of Brownie.

"Good old girl!" he said, practically shouted, petting Brownie's mane and whispering into its ear. "I thought I was going to die. I thought he was going to…"

He looked around him expecting to see the man/thing and the cave and the pillar and the golden key… but there was none of that. Instead, he sat just outside the mouth of the cave, only the mouth of the cave wasn't even there anymore. It was just a boulder.

Just a boulder… I dreamed this. All of it!

Even the time seemed to be the same, for when he looked up at the sky the moon was still in the same spot as he remembered. He'd merely dozed off for a few minutes, that was all! And there was still no rain. Though, if the wind and thunder and lightning had anything to say about it, rain would surely be there soon.

Jobi jumped up and shouted with joy, taking Brownie's hair and pretending to dance with it. "Come on, old girl!" He said as he hopped onto his horse's back. "Let's go home!"

He arrived home to an angry mother and a disappointed brother. But he showered them both with hugs and kisses. Both had shocked looks about their faces, but Jobi only laughed in response.

"Jobi?" his mother said. She, too, smiled, but there was something odd about it. As if she didn't quite believe what was happening. "What's gotten you all happy?" Her normally long, straight red hair that had been put in a bun she now released, as if relieving stress.

Her son is home safely. She's happy now.

"Life, mother," Jobi said, beaming. "Life."

He saw the look of disappoint return to his brother's face, and he bent down so that they were eye level. "I'm sorry I didn't get the deer, but how about I take you out tomorrow, just you and me, and we'll hunt all day?" Then, catching his mother's raised eyebrow, "After our chores, of course. Mayhap I'll even teach you how to hunt. Sure, you can ride well enough, but you've yet to be taught how to ride and shoot. What do you say to that, dear brother?"

Moba's eyes lit up like Mother Moon's starry children. "That sounds pretty good!"

The evening ended exceptionally well. He ate several bowls of his mother's delicious beef and vegetable stew, but after he was finished he wanted nothing more than to lay in his bed and sleep. He felt as if he could sleep for an eternity his body was so sore.

He no longer thought about running away to join the army, for he now realized how satisfied he was with his life. Things could have been far worse. He had a mother who loved him, a brother who looked up to him, and a farm that, albeit sometimes mundane, would always keep him busy.

He sat on the edge of his bed, smiling ear to ear. But as he took off his denim pants and emptied his pockets of any loose items he might have forgotten, one object fell to the floor that he certainly hadn't been expecting. The smile left his face, replaced by utter horror.

What he saw lying on the wooden floor, just begging to be held once more, was a golden key.