Didn't have time typing the main story out so I made this. Next time it'll be the actual story. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Special / Filler

Winston Charles and The Eastern Kingdoms

"Winston! Winston! Wake up!" Cress said as she shook me awake. "You know what day it is, don't you?"

"Ugh…" I moaned. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, angling all of its beams through the window into my eye like it wanted me also awake. Raising my arm to block the beaming light, I rose from the bed and rubbed my eyes, ridding it of its salty warm tears that kept it closed.

Cress was sitting like a puppy ready for a day of play, which she pretty much was, bouncing excitedly, waiting for my answer. "Lets see… when we got here it was late November, and we've been here nearly two-thirds of a month, so I'd have to wager it's either Christmas or its eve."

"Yep!" she said with a bounce that landed her on her feet beside the bed. "It's the eve, so let's split up and get each other gifts!" Slowly getting out of bed, I noticed we had slept in the same bed with minimal clothing and Weiß or anyone else for that matter had not been with us. But for the sake of not running into an awkward situation, I kept my mouth shut.

Suddenly fully dressed, Cress kissed my waking body and dashed off into the other room. Again, I felt something incredibly wrong with our situation but again did not comment in fear of Karmatic spite.

I got dress with the magically appearing clothes that just happened to be in the dresser and stepped out of the room. Cress had put on an apron and was making breakfast with the same excitement as a few moments earlier, never losing the sparkle in her eyes that if it disappeared would mark end of the world. Passing by Cress, I snuck a kiss and moved on, faking a smile for her sake. I sat down at the table where Jaeques, an elf I believed was the Lady Ash, and my mother and father were simply chatting away and having a laugh occasionally.

I grabbed the newspaper conveniently placed and began half reading it. The headlines were saying that the United States has agreed to allow the Undead to take over the southern border patrol for "undisclosed reasons".

Skimming through it, an undead town of Brill has "mysteriously appeared where "A town in the North" once had been the day before". The people who had been in town had either been turned or is currently missing. The government is currently "trying to make peace with the undead, as they seem to lack the "feral tendencies" of standard Hollywood undead and are very intelligent".

Very Intelligent. Lack the tendencies. Make peace with the Undead. Mysteriously appeared. Could we replace all that with "Undead has taken over the town of in the north, renamed it to the town of Brill, and we are either attempting to prevent the smart undead from expanding and/or use them to our advantage on various war projects" ?

Reality doesn't take a holiday, people.

"Winston, dear," my mother asked for my attention. Folding the newspaper, I looked at her. "Are you planning something for this afternoon?"

"Possibly. Did you want me?" I asked.

"Jaeques would like you to show him around town, since he is staying for the holiday break."

I looked at Jaeques, wondering if it was a good thing for him to be walking around with this—"Yes, I would be glad to show you around town," I told him, deliberately breaking my chain of thought.

"Thank you, young man. 'Winston', right? I never remember names correctly," he humbly admitted.

"Don't worry about it, really," I said.

"Incoming!" Cress called, walking in with breakfast. First she placed it down in front of the Lady Ash and my father, who were still chatting away, then Mother and Jaeques, who resumed chatting. Before she left to get our plates, she snuck a kiss back.

This breakfast with family and friends was maybe the best gathering I've had. The bad feeling I had disappeared, possibly realizing that I can't be bothered enough. After breakfast, I helped Cress with the dishes and put on a sweater and scarf and Jaeques had his own gear on as we headed out of the house.

I lived in a small town close to the Brill, which pretty soon was going to be like the other, and we don't get much focus since we are possibly one of the smallest towns. Besides, we like our privacy.

"You did want to tour the town, right?" I asked once we were out of earshot.

"Not exactly. You see, I've decided to join in on the holiday event you call 'Christmas' and wanted to get a gift to Ash, but if I possibly looked around here, I might find something to give to her," he said. Looking around, he clapped his hands and whistled. For a moment, nothing happened. Then I could hear a horse in the distance.

"That's a neat trick," I commented. Suddenly the ground lit up like it was cracking. Stepping away, I watched in awe as the horse emerged from the ground and paced at its master's side. The light dissipating, I could see as Jaeques got onto the saddle of the hell horse.

"I did tell you once that I was a warlock, right?" Jaeques chuckled.

"Yeah," I said, cautiously moving back to where I stood. "Yeah."

"Let's move on, before the snow arrives," Jaeques said as he patted the horse into a trot. I followed behind, feeling the chill in the air.

With the boys gone, the rest of us, with the exception of Winston's father, tidied up the house for the holiday. Besides laundry and the bedrooms, the joint efforts of me, Cress, and Mrs. Charles had cleaned up the house in less time than expected. With nearly a quarter of an hour to eleven, we were left with nothing to do inside.

With a bit of discussion on what to do next, we all headed out to get the boys their Christmas gifts. All of us, because Mrs. Charles didn't want me to stay because of the possibility I might either kill or seduce her husband and Cress came along for the near opposite reasons, that he might seduce her.

The most unfortunate thing, though was that there was an uneven tension amongst us. I didn't doubt the men are trying their best to stay with the women they had, but Mrs. Charles doubted we'd stay with their partners if the chance arose.

"Lets talk this out," I prompted, not willing to keep this tension up.

"Your boyfriend, Ash," she said, slightly bitter, "is one of those Undead people walking around causing mischief just south of here. He might just be turned or might be dug up from the grave, but when he goes away, what are you going to do?"

"He is not my boyfriend. He's my husband, and he did not just rise from the ground a few days ago. He has been around for nearly fifty-years since he has risen and was in very good condition when I meet him. And he does not cause trouble on his behalf, but is instructed to do so when his Lady commands him to," I explained.

"Yeah, yeah. Talk all you want about him but he's still in the same boat as the rest of them when it comes down to it," she replied. "And what about you, Cress? Are you planning on staying with my son or going to ditch him when the opportunity arises?"

"…" Cress stayed quiet, oddly. She stared forward and smiled like she was ignoring us. That was good except…

"So you don't plan on staying with my son," the woman said spitefully, before facing forward. I looked at Cress again, who had fallen slightly back. However, despite the smile on her face, her eyes showed a smidge of pain and confusion. I didn't ask. Instead, my eyes caught on something else, a person following us on the rooftops, watching us.

I turned back causally, trying not to provoke them or Mrs. Charles' attention. "So, fifty-years undead," Mrs. Charles said, sighing. "I thought fifty-years alive was long enough, but he had to live fifty more dead. How old was he when he died?"

"About seventy-two. Near-ancient where we come from, yet those years didn't harm him much."

"Seventy two? He would be nearly…"

"One hundred and twenty five. 'Six if you counted his half-a-year underground."

"If he was a living man, he'd be one of the oldest men alive," she said. "Was he European, by any chance?"

"European?" I asked, confused.

"Umm…" she said, trying to figure something out.

"If you mean by skin color, he was black, but there really isn't any difference to really distinguish him from any other man other than his personality."

"Oh, in that case, was he an opportunist when he was living?"

"When he was living he wasn't a noble, so he had to take what he could. But as a hunter he mostly relied on himself when he could."

"Ok, but I was asking if he slept around."

"Well, he could survive in the lands he hunted in because he knew how to make shelter easily, so I guess so."

"No, no. that's not what I'm asking. Did he sleep with a lot of women?"

Oh. Registering that thought, I turned and clenched my fist, when Cress tripped on the rough road. If she hadn't distracted me by slipping, I would have hit this woman.

Finally making it to town, the snow had taken a detour and we just missed it. Not that I wanted to have it snow.

With Jaeques riding his ever warm horse next to me, I entered the town proper. Jaeques had hidden most of his face with a scarf and pretty much the rest with glasses, and he didn't look much out of place as a group of horse riders passed saying hello and moving on. Not many people had cars in this small grouping of towns and those who did rarely if ever used them. Then we have the tourists…

Passing by the sheriff's office and some souvenir stores, we came across a bookstore and decided to look at it. However we had to look for the stables for the horse first, but once again the moment it passed through my mind the stables appeared. The bad feeling resurfaced since I had been to this bookstore once or twice before and the stables had not been this close, but like before I dismissed the thought as paranoia.

Entering the stables, I walked up to the manager and asked for a stall.

"Would you like a specific one, son?" the man asked.

"No, just an available one would do."

"Ok, just follow me." He rose and led me to the stable doors, upon opening he spotted Jaeques and called to him. Entering, he dropped from the back of the horse and led it to the stall. Whispering to it, he walked to my side and the horse dropped to a resting position and fell asleep. "May I ask you and your horse's names?" the manager asked, pulling out a clipboard.

"Jaeques Mytklr and Brax," Jaeques said, both of us hoping his last name merely grazed his mind.

"Would you sign here for the record?" the man said, handing the board and pen to Jaeques systematically, who in turn took and scribbled and handed back the board. "Thank you, sirs."

Walking out, Jaeques chuckled after the door to the stables was shut. "He spelt my name wrong." I chuckled at that to.