Steam rose from the center of the sturdy oak table where a roasted suckling pig rested on a bed of seasoned root vegetables. The aroma of rosemary and garlic was thick enough to chew. Luv Mishane moved around the table with practiced grace. She set down ceramic plates and polished silverware. She did not need eyes to know exactly where the edges of the table were.
Zareth sat stiffly in a wooden chair. His heavy, mutated left arm was supported by a thick sling that looped around his neck. He watched the domestic scene with a guarded expression.
"Oh man! Oh man!"
Lil Sinbad bounced in his chair like a spring. He gripped a fork and knife in his hands and clicked them together.
Clack-clack-clack.
He leaned forward and sniffed the meat deeply. His red eyes sparkled with gluttonous delight.
"It smells so good! Hey Papa, you are going to love Big Sis's cooking! She is the best chef on the entire island! Even the Governor tries to hire her for banquets!"
"Hahahaha!"
Luv Stinger laughed from the head of the table. He poured a dark ale into a tankard.
"The brat is right for once. My granddaughter has magic in her hands."
Stinger took a swig of ale and wiped foam from his grey beard. He looked at Zareth with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"She cooks, she cleans, and she keeps a house warm. She will make a fine wife one day."
Stinger leaned in closer. "Don't you think so too, lad?"
Zareth blinked. "Think what?"
"That my beautiful daughter will make a great wife?"
Zareth opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked at Mishane, who was blushing furiously as she sliced bread, and then back at the gruff sailor.
"I... uh..."
Luckily, Mishane intervened. She brought a plate of steamed greens and placed it forcefully before her grandfather.
"Grandpa, stop teasing him. He just woke up from a six-month coma. Do not give him a heart attack before he eats his first meal."
"Heh. Just making conversation." Stinger winked at Zareth.
Lil Sinbad couldn't wait any longer. He reached out with his fork to stab a juicy piece of pork.
SMACK!
Stinger rapped the boy's knuckles with the handle of his spoon. The fork clattered onto the table.
"Ouch! What was that for, Grandpa?"
"Manners, you little savage," Stinger growled. "We say grace in this house. The Goddess Aquarius provides, and we give thanks."
Stinger gestured to Mishane. "Go ahead, dear."
They bowed their heads. Mishane clasped her hands together. Her expression became serene.
"Oh Great Goddess of the Tides, we thank you for the bounty of the sea and the harvest of the land. We thank you for the safe return of lost souls and the health of this family. May this food nourish our bodies and our spirits. Amen."
"Amen," Stinger and Sinbad chorused.
Zareth lowered his head, but his eye remained open. He stared at the wood grain of the table.
'Six months...'
The reality of the time skip settled heavily in his mind. He had missed half a year of his life. He had been asleep while the seasons changed.
'Well, it wasn't like I had a busy schedule anyway. I was retired.'
He thought about the relentless pursuit of Church Number Nine.
'After six months of silence, surely they have stopped looking for me. They probably assume I died in the ocean with Vanderznak. Or maybe they think the explosion vaporized me.'
He glanced sideways at the boy. Lil Sinbad was practically vibrating with impatience.
'And this brat... He talks non-stop. He laughs. Is this really the same silent devil that slaughtered the residents of Maskorudeath? He looks like a normal, albeit hyperactive, child.'
"Dig in!" Mishane announced.
The spell broke. Lil Sinbad attacked the food with the ferocity of a starving wolf. He shoved meat into his mouth and chewed loudly.
"Delicious! So good!"
Stinger carved a massive slice of pork for himself and laughed boisterously. "Eat up, Zareth! Your stomach has been empty for a long time. You need to put meat back on those bones if you want to be useful!"
The food looked appetizing. The pork skin was crispy and golden. The vegetables glistened with butter.
Zareth reached out with his human right hand. He broke a piece of bread and brought it to his lips. He chewed slowly and swallowed.
The bread hit his stomach like a stone.
"Urp..."
A wave of nausea rolled over him. The smell of the roasted meat suddenly shifted. It didn't smell like food anymore; it smelled like burnt flesh.
He covered his mouth. His face turned pale.
"Bathroom..." Zareth choked out. He stood up abruptly and knocked his chair back. "Where is the bathroom?"
"Down the hall, second door on the left," Mishane said, concerned. "Is something wrong? Does the food not taste right?"
"Impossible!" Stinger slammed his tankard down. "My granddaughter's food is perfect!"
Zareth didn't answer. He rushed out of the dining room.
He barged into the bathroom and slammed the door. He gripped the edges of the ceramic sink and leaned over it.
"Hurk...!"
He retched violently, but nothing came out. His stomach convulsed in dry heaves. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
'What is this? Why can't I eat? Is this the mutagen?'
As he questioned his body, a sharp pain spiked in his temples.
Throooooob.
Then, the voices returned.
"Why do you eat that dry trash?"
Zareth looked up. In the mirror, his reflection wavered. Behind his own face, shadowy outlines of two dragons materialized. One burned with blue fire, the other with orange.
"Burn them," Ignivaros whispered. "Burn them all and feast. Their flesh will be sweet and wet."
"Indeed," Borealeth hissed. "That old man... his muscles are tough, but seasoned with salt. He would make a fine appetizer."
"Foolish!" Ignivaros roared. "The woman! Savour the woman! Her meat is tender. She is ripe."
Borealeth agreed. "Save the boy for last. He doesn't have much meat on his bones yet. Let him fatten up."
"Shut up!"
Zareth squeezed his eye shut. He fought the urge that bubbled up from his gut; a primal, monstrous hunger that demanded living prey.
"I won't... listen to you!"
He opened his eye. The dragons stared back at him from the glass.
SMASH!
Zareth punched the mirror with his right fist. The glass spiderwebbed and fractured the images of the dragons into a dozen shards. The voices faded into a low hum.
"Papa?"
Lil Sinbad's voice came from the other side of the door. "Papa? Are you okay? Did you fall down?"
Zareth breathed heavily. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face.
"I'm fine. Just... give me a minute."
Zareth called out hoarsely. He dried his face and opened the door. Lil Sinbad stood there with a worried expression.
"I'm going outside. I need fresh air."
"I'll come with you!" Sinbad stepped forward.
"Sit down, boy," Stinger called from the table. "Finish your food. You don't waste a meal like this."
Sinbad hesitated, looking between Zareth and the food.
"Do as he says." Zareth walked past the boy and headed for the front door.
Luv Stinger wiped his mouth with a napkin. He grabbed his walking stick and stood up.
"I'll go with him. Make sure he doesn't fall off the cliff."
Zareth stepped out onto the porch. The cool air hit him and helped settle the nausea. He walked a short distance away from the house and stopped at a grassy bank that overlooked the island.
The sun was high now. Below him, workers in wide-brimmed hats waded through the terraced rice paddies. The water reflected the sky like a shattered mirror. Beyond the fields, the port buzzed with activity as fishing boats bobbed in the harbor.
It was peaceful. It was a world away from the grime and horror of the Blackthorn Estate.
Thud. Thud.
Stinger limped up beside him. He leaned on his stick and looked out over his domain.
"Beautiful, isn't it? This place is my one and only home. I will do whatever it takes to protect it."
"I never knew this place existed," Zareth admitted. He leaned against a wooden fence post.
Stinger chuckled. "Of course you wouldn't know, young lad. Since you came from beyond the Weather Veil."
"The Weather Veil?"
Stinger pointed his stick toward the horizon, where dark clouds gathered in a perpetual ring.
"The Meikai Sea is treacherous. A massive storm system surrounds our waters. It is a wall of wind, lightning, and waves a hundred feet high. Not only is the weather bad, but the waters are teeming with sea beasts that can swallow a ship whole."
Stinger spat into the grass.
"Going out past the veil is a death sentence for most. Only the most experienced sailors and fishermen can navigate the safe channels. Each trip is costly. I know you must be thinking of returning to your homeland, but in your condition, it's best if you stay here."
Stinger looked back at the house.
"Lil Sinbad has also grown accustomed to this place. At first, he was just a mute crybaby who wouldn't leave your side. But look at him today. He speaks. He laughs."
Stinger smiled proudly. "The Imprint of Knowledge was worth the cost. And Mishane's teaching paid off, wouldn't you say?"
Zareth frowned. 'Imprint of Knowledge? So it was her doing.'
He thought about the boy.
'But something still doesn't add up. How did that boy end up in the sea with me? I left him in the forest. When I ripped that madman's arm off and we crashed... did the boy somehow swam to my aid?'
He turned to Stinger.
"Tell me about the rescue. Aside from me and… Lil Sinbad, did you find anyone else? A man with purple skin? A creature?"
Stinger shook his head. "No. Just you and the lad floating on the whale carcass. We circled the area for hours looking for salvage. There was no one else."
"Was there a third person out there?" Stinger asked.
"Forget about it."
Zareth clenched his fist.
'Did he really die? Or did he sink to the bottom?'
Stinger noticed the tension in Zareth's hand. He saw the knuckles whiten.
"That person you're looking for... was he the one who did that to your body? The one who caused your mutation?"
"Something like that," Zareth said darkly. "He is quite devious."
Zareth exhaled and decided to change the subject. "Your granddaughter... Mishane. She is kind. To watch over a stranger for so long... that isn't normal."
"Aye," Stinger agreed. He puffed out his chest. "Mishane has a heart of gold. She saved you."
He turned to face Zareth fully. His expression became serious.
"And that brings me to the matter of debt. You will have to pay back my daughter's kindness."
Zareth scoffed. "How? I don't have any money. My savings are resting at the bottom of the ocean."
"I wasn't talking about money."
Stinger eyed Zareth up and down.
"Do you have a wife back home? A young, strapping lad like you must have suitors lining up."
Zareth raised an eyebrow. "Young?"
He realized that Stinger saw the youthful face granted by the Mellontikos Juice, not the aged, grey-bearded man he had been. Zareth was certain he was older than this sailor by a few decades, but he kept his mouth shut.
"No wife, no family." Zareth said.
"Good."
Zareth touched the eyepatch on his face. "About this patch... Mishane said not to remove it. What condition was I in when you found me?"
Stinger grimaced. "You looked like a monster from the deep. At first, we thought you were a rare sea creature, but then we saw the boy clinging to you. Your left side was consumed by black scales. Your eye was... wrong."
Stinger tapped his own temple.
"It was thanks to Mishane's expert knowledge in our ancestors' magical Imprints that she was able to bring you back. But it is only a temporary fix. We tried to remove that armored arm of yours, but the saw broke. It is harder than diamond."
Zareth looked at his bandaged arm.
"So she sealed it?"
"Aye. She used a suppression Imprint. The core of the seal sits in your left eye. As long as it doesn't see sunlight, the mutation remains dormant. It was a complicated ritual. My daughter spent days by your side, draining her own Grace to keep you stable. That is why you slept for six months."
"I see. So this eyepatch is my leash."
"Call it what you want. It saved your life."
Stinger stepped closer and poked Zareth in the chest with a thick finger.
"Now, about that debt. I have thought of a way for you to repay us."
"I'm listening," Zareth said warily.
"You should marry my daughter."
Stinger said it as if he were commenting on the weather.
"And give me a few great-grandkids while you're at it."
"Cough-hack!"
Zareth choked on his own spit. He doubled over and coughed violently.
"What?!" Zareth wheezed. "Anything but that!"
Stinger's face turned red. He slammed his stick on the ground.
"What? You don't like my daughter? You are both the same age! Is it because she is blind?"
Stinger grabbed Zareth's collar.
"I have you know my daughter is the best woman on this island! She sees more with her heart than most men do with two good eyes! You will marry her! That is the only way to repay the debt!"
"You're insane! I can't marry her!"
"You will!" Stinger shouted. "Or I'll throw you back into the sea myself!"