Wow! Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! You realize that you're only encouraging this obsession, don't you? I love it, and your kind words are very much appreciated. Sorry the previous chapters were so short - here's a longer one to make up for it:

Morning came much too quickly. It seemed as though she'd closed her eyes for but a moment when the sounds of Antal moving about their small hut woke her. Tosia had dragged John's pallet over to the corner, managed to pull him back onto it before returning to her own bed, seemingly only minutes ago.

As the occupants of the hut went about their daily tasks and morning became afternoon, the stranger had shown no signs of wakening. The sleep he had so desperately fought against would not release him.

Throughout the day, Tosia and Lasca each took turns trying to coax John to drink some broth. They pressed a cup against his lips until he stirred enough to swallow small amounts of liquid carefully poured into his mouth before falling back into a deep sleep.

It was late afternoon when a sudden rap on the door startled them, and Tosia knew she would have to offer her people some explanation, though she had none. She nodded to Antal to open the door to reveal Silas and Urvan – the two self-appointed guardians of the village. Tosia prayed for patience with them. She regarded Silas as a bully and Urvan a hapless and acquiescent follower. Even still, she granted the men entrance.

Silas stomped in, tracking dirt and mud on the clean floor, Urvan following close on the other man's heels. Silas tramped to the stranger still sleeping on his bed on the floor, and stared down at him in cold scrutiny. Antal glowered at Silas and positioned himself close to John, already protective of the injured man.

Dismissing Antal by turning his back to the young man, Silas gestured toward Tosia with impatience. "Well? Where did he come from? You promised answers, Tosia."

"I do not know yet where he came from, Silas." Tosia said, impervious to the man's menacing glare. "He is still very weak. It will take some time."

"This is madness!" Silas sputtered. "No strangers have come to this land in as long as I can remember! He could be of the old tribe, for all we know! He could bring the Wraith down upon us!"

"The Wraith come when they wish to come. We have no party in their wrath," she replied, resolute and firm. "And we have seen nothing of any other tribes in decades – they are likely all gone by now."

"Oh, so certain are you?" Silas waved his hand over the stranger. "Then how do you explain him?"

"I cannot."

"You cannot, or you will not?" Silas glared at her. "At least tell us where you found him."

Tosia narrowed her eyes, deciding how best to answer. Her pilgrimages to the cliff side were no one's business but her own. Antal would sometimes followed protectively close behind her, but she never once told the young man what it was she continually hoped to find there. Finally, she answered Silas with a short version of the truth.

"As I said before, I found him injured and outside the village. That is all I know. Perhaps you are right," she amended more for peace, than agreement. "Perhaps some of the old tribe do still exist."

"If that is true then you've no right to decide to bring his kind in our midst. He is not one of us, he has no business among us."

"Is that so?" Tosia said, glancing at John for a moment. "He lives, he breathes, he feels, as do we. Does that not make him one of us?"

"You could say the same thing of animal," Silas sneered.

"My eyesight is not what it used to be, so I may be mistaken, but he looks very human to me," Tosia said, raising an eyebrow. Silas's face reddened, so she spoke before the man could protest again. "Are you suggesting that I should have left him out there to die, Silas? Is that what we have become?"

Silas did not answer, but Tosia suspected that was exactly what he wished she had done. Urvan shifted behind the other man, his normally bland features pinched with discomfort. Tosia thought these men's grandparents would be ashamed of them.

Tosia then took a deep breath and reminded herself of the error of passing judgment. Reminded herself of the virtue of patience. She had been present at both Silas and Urvan's births, seen them grow from infants to men. Witnessed their own parents' births. She knew their pasts and their prejudices.

To these sheltered people with whom she'd lived for so many years, the stars were merely bright lights in the sky one could make a wish upon. Tosia remembered when she had found her lamp in the ruins so many years ago – her people had deemed it a fearful instrument of magic until she'd demonstrated that its light source came from a simple energy cell, not witchcraft. All these people had ever known and had ever seen existed within this village, within the few miles of terrain they dared to explore, still fearful of the far-too recent legends of Wraith attacks. No, they thought it safer to keep a low profile, and from their history, who could blame them? Tosia certainly should not. She knew too well the destruction the Wraith had brought to her own world.

Their narrow-mindedness was not their fault, she reminded herself. These people were innocents, and Tosia was party to condemning them to such a state. She had no right to judge them harshly.

"Silas, Urvan," Tosia began, choosing her words carefully, "We have always endeavored to practice compassion amongst ourselves. If that compassion does not extend toward strangers, then we are no better than animals. We are worth nothing."

Silas opened his mouth in argument, but Tosia held up a hand and again spoke before he could. "If this man is of another tribe, then he is one of us. Our very village is made up of such tribes joining together, becoming as one, a family." And in a strange way, she thought, that was the most truth she had ever spoken of this land's strange history. "I promise you, this man will be my sole responsibility. That is, if he even recovers."

Urvan shifted his gaze to John's still form and spoke for the first time. "Is he very ill?"

"Yes," Tosia replied, nodding. "He cannot harm a child in his present state, so there is no cause for alarm. Tell the others they are welcome to come see him once he is fully awake, but no sooner than that."

Silas considered her words then nodded, apparently satisfied for the moment. As one, he and Urvan turned and left the small hut, shutting the door quietly behind them.

---A---

Night had fallen, and Tosia, Lasca and Antal sat at their small table in front of the roaring hearth, finishing their evening meal. Each were quiet, lost in their own thoughts.

All three jumped at the sudden scream.

They turned as John bolted upright, another rasping, wordless cry tearing from his throat. Desperate to escape whatever demons haunted him and with surprising speed, he clambered from his bed and found the door more by luck than direction. His hands fumbled at the latch, but his legs were too unsteady to support him. He fell against the door with a thump.

Lasca reached him first and attempted to calm him, but John twisted from her grasp, throwing himself against the door hard enough to cause bruises.

Antal rushed over, caught John around his waist just as he hurled himself at the door again, pulling him off his feet and carrying him back to his bed. John thrashed and bucked in the young man's strong grip. Bare legs kicking at Antal, he let loose a high-pitched, furious howl.

"Keep hold of him, Antal!" Tosia shouted while cautiously approaching them.

Antal nodded and sat down on the pallet with a grunt, pulling a struggling John with him. He wrapped his thick arms over John's chest, pinning the other man's flailing arms to his sides. Though he was still weakened, fear and adrenaline gave John added strength, and Antal had to strain to keep hold of him without hurting him. He placed his powerful legs over John's slimmer ones, preventing him from accidentally kicking the old woman.

With Lasca looking helplessly on, Tosia crouched in front of the two men. John strained against Antal's grip, and his cries became panicked when he realized that he couldn't break free.

"John," Tosia tried his name again, hoping for more response than the last time. His eyes were no longer blank, but wild, rolling in their sockets, unable to focus on anything. "John, look at me," Tosia ordered. She placed both hands on either side of his face, not allowing him to pull away this time. "Look at me!" He arched his back, jerked his head to the side, snarling in protest, but she tightened her grip on his face, moving in closer, so near she could feel his breath on her face. "John, you are all right. You are safe. Look at me, John!"

Finally, the wide, maddened eyes fixed on hers. The intensity and terror she saw in their depths was startling, even for one as inured as Tosia. John's chest heaved with harsh, sobbing breaths, tears spilled down his cheeks, his entire body tensed, but his frantic gaze did not stray from hers.

"That's it," Tosia encouraged, and though it was difficult to stare into those crazed eyes, she did not look away, even for a second. "We are only trying to help you, John. You have nothing to fear from us. You are safe."

John's struggles began to weaken as his strength gave out. He sagged against Antal's chest, his breath hitching, muscles trembling. Tosia loosened her grip on his stubbled jaw and gently stroked his face, dismayed by the faint red impressions her fingers had left on his skin.

"Shh, it is all right. You are safe," she repeated over and over, keeping her clouded eyes on his bright hazel ones, wiping away the tears staining his face.

Antal released John's arms in small increments, unsure of his reactions, but all the fight had gone out of him. Tosia nodded for Antal to fully release the man, which he did, but he remained close.

After a moment, John raised a shaking hand toward Tosia's face. His long fingers very lightly traced the ragged scar, then twined in the silver hair falling over her shoulders. It seemed as though he were testing the reality of her presence, but there was no way of knowing how aware he was of his surroundings.

Tosia laid her hand on top of his, then gently pulled it away from her hair, but kept his trembling hand firm in her gnarled grasp. His fingers tightened around hers, gripping her hand as though it were a lifeline.

"You are going to be all right, John," Tosia reassured him once more, still holding his hand, still looking into his eyes even though his gaze was beginning to wander, losing its intense focus. He pulled his legs tight against his chest, and like he had done the night before, began to rock, the fingers of his free hand scrabbling at the hem of his nightshirt.

When Tosia called his name again, his gaze flicked in her direction, and very softly, he echoed the same syllable. Tosia hoped his reaction was a sign of progress and allowed herself to believe he would, in fact, recover, and the reason for his presence here would be revealed.

Tosia did not believe in coincidences. After so many decades of exile, with no break in the monotony of her existence, this man had appeared, and he had come to this place with a purpose. She knew that as surely as she knew her own name. Just what that purpose entailed, Tosia couldn't begin to guess, nor would she even try.

It would be revealed to her in time, as all things were.

--- tbc ---