"Mam!" Eshal exclaimed after the door to the room that her mother and brothers were in was opened. Before her father could shush her, or prevent her from charging into the room, she ran past him.

The second the door was open, and the girl was rushing towards her, she turned her head; Angel looked at the girl, who she couldn't place a name to for a fraction of a second, then she placed judgement on her being 'excited' before noting that she was fine to be around the boys. While true, she did know the room that they were in, and while true, she was taking a short while to settle in with her and the boys' new living arrangements, she wasn't regarding anyone who lived or worked in the house distrustfully. The second she noticed who the girl was, and then deduced that she was better than fine to be in the room with her and her sons, she calmed down.

Breakfast, on that fifth morning of her and her sons' return to the mansion, had been delivered to them an hour and a half ago; except for the pancakes being banana-cinnamon flavored, and having a chocolate filling in them, and except for the bowl of fruit being exchanged for a bowl of eggs, the meal had been the same as yesterday's and as the three days that had preceded yesterday's.

Her sons really had her to thank for their having eggs with that morning's meal—yesterday, after consuming a meal of steak, baked potato salad, and green beans for supper, and then having a slice of chocolate cake for dessert, she had taken her husband to the side to discuss with him about the next meal needing to have a small change to it. Tazir had heeded her advice by not only making a different variety of pancakes but by also giving them a bowl of eggs to go with the bacon slices and link sausage pieces. She and her sons had enjoyed the change in the menu and she had made sure to thank the "chef" for his meal and in telling her sons to thank him for his troubles too.

"Eshal?" Angel said after the girl stopped before her, and after a full thirty seconds went by.

"Uh-huh." Eshal nodded her head.

"You have really grown!" Angel said. She reached over then grabbed the girl, who was her adopted daughter, up in a hug. Eshal was fast in returning her hug.

The girl that she had seen on that program, Exposure Hour, had looked pretty well mature; now that she was before that girl, and was able to take in her appearance at a closer distance, she could see that she was a lot more mature that she had initially thought she was.

Gone was the girl that she had taken under her wing as a child; gone was the girl that she had once tucked into bed, and comforted during a fierce thunderstorm, and read written stories and told stories on her life to before it was time for everyone to go to bed. The girl that she had left sixteen hundred years ago looked very much like a teenager now—while giving this girl a hug, she pinched herself to see if what she was seeing was correct or not.

Eshal, who's full name was EshalVile Eskara Surfeit, had taken most of her physical appearance from her real mother—Bespe Rakaduc. While the light blue skin complexion, and the suction cups that were on the ends of each of her fingers, had come from her father the rest of her had come from her mother. Her eyes were very unique, and they made her look even prettier and even more feminine; the color was green, the pupils that lie in their centers were black, and the shape was cat-like. Her mouth was heart-shaped; she had a small nose on her face; and the cheek bones that were in her face were set up high. The hair that she had on her head had been allowed to grow out; the light blue portion of her hair flowed all the way down her back while her bangs, which were a medium-purple color, dropped to nearly her eye-line.

Her daughter was wearing attire that was very appropriate for a female teenager to wear; the black slacks weren't but so tight on her legs, the red and purple blouse, that had a ruffled collar on it, was loose—so loose that she could barely see her perky breasts—, and the two-inch heels that were on her feet were purple. The amethyst necklace that hung around her neck looked rather expensive, as did the two matching bracelets that were on her wrists.

Eshal, at nine hundred years of age, had been five feet tall; now, at two thousand, five hundred, and one years of age, she stood five foot, four inches tall.

"Your daddy's done real well with you," Angel said after releasing her daughter from her embrace. "You're all grown up now."

"Well, not yet my love. She has a couple hundred years to go before she can be considered a grown-up." TazirVile replied. After saying this, he entered the room then strode up to his wife; he leaned down after reaching her then whispered, "Hope it's alright that she visits for a while. She wanted to see you and her brothers."

"Fine with me—just take it easy." Angel whispered back.

As his parents were talking among themselves about how well-grown Eshal was, and while Eshal took him and his brothers in, he was thinking about the events that had happened over the last two days.

The last two days had been like the other three that they had spent in the mansion—slow and rather boring. Except for when they were brought their meals, nothing had happened to make the day seem less slow or boring. The old man had come into "their" room about a dozen times yesterday and the day before; their meals, or a snack, had been delivered, then the trays, with their various dishware and silverware included, had been taken after everything was consumed, then they had been left alone for about fifteen or twenty minutes before the man returned to spend fifteen to twenty minutes with them. It hadn't taken them long to grow tired of watching the room's tv; with nothing but tv watching to do, they had watched a lot of tv over the last two days—as far as he could tell, none of them had picked up any fancies on the programs that he had landed on while channel surfing.

While Lhaklar was much the same around the old man Hazaar and Lazeer seemed to of grown a little more calmer around him; two days ago, when the man came in to spend some time with them, Hazaar and Lazeer had either been keeping ma close, or had been close to sitting on her, or had just plain stood clear away from him. His two, younger brothers, though still looking to not be as "settled" with the man's company, weren't doing that this morning. He, at around noon yesterday, and then before taking up a plate and then making himself his breakfast that morning, had indulged in a few, small conversations with the man who he regarded as his true paternal figure; he wasn't as nervous or as tense around the man anymore.

Five days ago, after entering the mansion that he had called home during his kid years, his nervousness gauge had been a high-level ten; he estimated that it was now at a low five.

Lhaklar, despite still acting the same around the old man, had done a change in his demeanor yesterday—he was a nervous wreck, which was surprising. While he wanted to place the blame for his brother's nervousness on Hazaar and Lazeer he also wanted to say that there was something else fueling it. Even though Lhaklar was a hundred years younger than he, and a few hundred years older than Hazaar and Lazeer, he was a very mature individual—sometimes, so much so that it was annoying. Lhaklar sometimes tried to be the "daddy" figure of him and their brothers, which was more than a little annoying; his brother was his brother, he shouldn't be acting or regarding himself in that way with them. On Earth, Lhaklar hadn't only had a job but had also been helping with the family finances; ma hadn't wanted his brother to go out to get a job—she had been downright against it for several reasons, one revolving around her wanting him to remain a kid and to not have any adult-related stresses on his shoulders to worry about—but he had still gone out to get one. After seeing him walking around with a fake I.D. in his wallet, and then busting his balls on the constant questions on how he had gotten it and on who had made it for him, he had gotten himself a fake I.D. made and then gone into an establishment called Kale's World to see if the owner was looking to hire anyone—after getting his stripper-job, his brother had come home and then fabricated a story about his getting a job as being a cashier at Walmart.

Surprisingly, ma had believed him; while he, Hazaar, and Lazeer all knew about the ruse, and about what their brother had really been doing, they had said nothing about what he had really been doing at his "job". They had figured that, if their mother was to find out about the real job that their brother had, then she was to find out about it on her own.

Lhaklar's over-nervousness was so surprising because, while he did try his best to stay out of stressful situations, he was usually very calm, cool, and collected whenever he was in one of them. He, and his mother, were keeping a good eye on him; neither of them wanted him to have an episode.

"Bile, is that you?" Eshal asked him.

"Last time I checked my tags I was," Bile said.

"You've gotten big!" Eshal exclaimed. "What do you weigh now? How tall are you?"

"Six-three and two hundred and fifty." Bile replied. "And not a speck of that is fat."

"You look really strong..." Eshal said. "Bet you'll be doing time in the gym soon."

"Probably will," Bile said. Even though it was a lie, he couldn't help but throw a little fib out at his sister. "I can easily lift two hundred pounds."

"What!" TazirVile gasped. "Angel—"

"Show off! Last time I checked, you struggle when you lift anything that's over a hundred and twenty pounds." Hazaar snapped.

As of yesterday, he had been let in on the know on a few things about his sons; while keeping his rump seated on the room's darker colored chair, he had taken in everything that his wife had spoken of in accord to the boys and he had listened to all that the boys had had to say on what she had been telling him.

Bile, he had been told, had two powers to his disposal—Energy, which was the basic power for anyone who had been gifted the knowledge or talent of powers, and Elemental, which was considered to be a Surfeit-only power. Lhaklar, Hazaar, and Lazeer, while also knowing Energy and Elemental powers, could also do Acidic powers—while Lhaklar and Hazaar had been described as either knowing the bare basics of the power or being half-taught with the power Lazeer had been described as being a natural with the power. Angel claimed that all of her sons had been trained on how to use a sword.

His father would probably flip after learning that his biological sons knew and had been trained by a natural wielder of Elemental powers; while on Earth, the man had said time and again that he couldn't pass anything but a bad cold to his offspring... the knowledge of his sons having and knowing how to use Elemental powers would be like a good slap to the face for him. The same for the boys also knowing how to use a sword.

He had already known about Bile knowing how to hunt—in late August, his younger half-brother, Amadh, had come across him after he had come off as being successful in hunting a bull deer—but he hadn't had any inklings to the other boys also knowing how to hunt. While this was good information to know he wasn't about to allow the boys to go out, putting themselves in danger while on the hunt. So much could happen that he just didn't want to happen—the boys were much too young to be going out to hunt, whether supervised or not.

Like with knowing that Bile had already been allowed to partake in hunting activities, he had already known that all four of the boys had gone to Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic and that Lhaklar, Hazaar, and Lazeer had also gone to the University of Telepathy; along with their forms, and rank cards, he also had the records that had been in the two schools' archives in his office. He also had several tapes from when Bile had run track in his office; only two tapes from when Lhaklar and Hazaar had run track had been found—Lhaklar, it seemed, had run track at both schools while Hazaar had only done track at the University of Telepathy.

An emphasis on the boys having a normal sibling rivalry to them had been made by Angel; Hazaar had been described as being very caught up with the Temperamental phase while Lazeer had been described as not having as bad of a go with the phase as his brother was—to find that he had two sons who were going through the phase had been a shock. He had made a mental note about the two going through the phase at the same time and he had also made a mental note to send correspondence to his mother and stepfather about the two going through the phase at the same time—the fact of Lazeer going through the phase only emphasized how healthy and on-schedule he was; if his son wasn't healthy, or on-schedule for his age, he wouldn't be going through the phase. As he already knew, the boys were phenomenally close to their mother—they obeyed and listened to her well; he was looking forward to when they'd do the same with him.

Bile and Lhaklar remembered the mansion well; they had spoken of the pool, the gym, and they had also beat around the bush on asking about their old chambers. Bile had also asked if the house's theater was still up and running—this question had done more than shock the socks from his feet; at the time of the boys' disappearance, Bile had only been in the house's theater room three times in his life. Hazaar and Lazeer didn't know a thing about the mansion; they had listened to their brothers talk about the house but they had said nothing in regards to it. Both were still rather wary of him; he was taking his time in getting them use to him—whenever he entered the room, he just took a seat then started talking.

"BroSis has really gotten big." Eshal said enthusiastically.

"It's Hazaar you bi—"

"Hazaar, hush!" Angel was fast in silencing her son, who had been about to call his sister a bitch. After silencing her son, then giving him a warning look, she turned her attention back to her daughter. "Eshal, if you're to use a different name with your brother please use Hazie okay? He doesn't like being called BroSis."

"I called him that when he was a baby." Eshal said. She glanced at her father, who did nothing more than look down at her; after getting no word from him, she turned back to look at her mother.

"I know, honey. But he's not a baby anymore, he's—"

"I am too!" Hazaar exclaimed. He forgot all about the man that was in the room with them; he rushed over then he grabbed his mother up in a hug. "I'm yours."

He had absolutely no time to prepare for it or to prevent himself from doing the action that caused a violent reaction from his son to occur; after seeing his secondborn son being so close to him, and after seeing Eshal take four steps away from him, he had stepped forward. After reaching the space that was around Hazaar's personal space bubble, he had stretched his hand out to him; the simple action of his hand being plopped on his son's shoulder caused his son to wheel on him. Hazaar's fists were swung twice—one of the swings caught him in the jaw while the other missed its mark by a mile.

His wife reacted by grabbing their son; she pulled him back to about a half dozen steps from him then she turned him around. She told him to cool it, and then to calm down after seeing how worked up he was, then she grabbed him up in a hug after he started blubbering. His action in taking a step towards the pair caused Hazaar's blubbering to cease; his son came at him like a savage right after noticing him coming in.

Lhaklar, after his brother lunged at him, rushed over; he wrapped his arms around Hazaar's waist then he lifted him up. Hazaar was "heaved" to about an inch to two inches from the floor then he was "carried" over to the bed; the second Lhaklar released his brother, he found himself being turned on—in his hysteria, Hazaar turned then swung his left fist, which collided with his brother's Adam's apple.

Angel rushed forward right after her secondborn son grabbed at his throat; she grabbed Hazaar by his shirt then she made him sit down. With their son on the bed, and looking to be calming down, she turned to look at him and his daughter.

"It was nice seeing you, Eshal." she said. "Tazzy, you best check your jaw now."

Eshal didn't wait to receive word from him on leaving the room—she was fast to turn on her heels and she was fast in racing from the room; where she went afterwards he didn't know. In the hour that spanned between the violent, but perfectly understandable, altercation that occurred between he and his son he neither heard nor saw a thing of her.

He knew well that what had happened wouldn't of happened if he hadn't of gone and placed his hand on his son; if he had just stayed back after his son rushed forward to give his mother a hug he wouldn't of been punched. He didn't place blame on Hazaar for his square-hit to his jaw, or for his lunging at him after noticing that he was coming towards him—the boy didn't know him, and it was quite evident that he was afraid of him, which would warrant such a reaction like that happening.

Some children, instead of thinking over their reactions before doing them, just reacted without putting thought in on what they were doing while others just did the run and then hide thing before becoming violent; Hazaar, TazirVile was fast in recognizing, was one who would fight his fears. His son wasn't dangerous, he knew that, but he could be if there wasn't someone that he knew with or around him—he could well of made it ten times worse if he had grabbed his son after being punched by him. The fact that he could of made it worse by chiding him, or by disciplining him, didn't get by him either.

As he saw it, he was being wise in staying away for a while. His jaw was fine; it was bruised, and a bit swollen, but it was fine. He saw the bruise, and the off-swelling that was going on on its right side, as a lesson; he had made a mistake in putting his hand on his son and he was going through the consequences of that mistake. Was he going to be afraid of entering the room that his wife and sons were in? Was he going to stand by the door like a little frightened cat after he decided to go back in for another fifteen to twenty minute visit? No; he'd simply walk into the room, then glance around before heading for one of the room's vacant chairs.

His son would come around; one of these days they would come around to seeing that he wasn't one to fear or mistrust.

After an hour passed, he went upstairs; after piddling around with the chambers that were all fixed up and ready for his sons, he picked a few things up that he thought the boys would like to have returned to them then he went down to the level that they, and their mother, were on. When he reached the room, which had been closed up after he and Eshal left it, he shifted the box that he had in his arms a bit before reaching forward to knock; as usual, his wife, twenty to twenty-five seconds later, was the one to say that it was okay for him to come in.

"You alright?" Angel asked after he entered the room. He could tell that she was concerned; this, alone, caused his spirits in regards to how much she still loved and cared for him to soar—he was very aware that if she didn't love, or care for him she wouldn't of asked him if he was alright or not. "Anything broken?"

"No—my jaw's bruised, and a little swollen, but it's alright." he replied. He then turned his attention towards his son. "Is he alright?"

"Yes," Angel nodded her head, then gestured towards their son. "As you can see, Hazaar's fine."

Yes, he could see his son—instead of looking "fine", like his mother had just described him as being, he looked a bit unnerved. Hazaar was still on the bed; his legs were both crossed and were pulled up to his chest, it looked like he had a very nervous look on his face. Just one look at his son told him that his action of placing his hand on him had reverted him to being as he had been two days ago—now that he saw his son's state, he wanted to give himself a royal kick in the ass.

After noting how his son looked, and how his demeanor had become changed, he went over to the room's chair and ottoman; he sat down, then he placed the box on the ottoman, then he started rummaging through it. Lazeer, who was a few feet from him, gave him a curious look but he said nothing pertaining to what he was doing.

He neither fumbled or sifted through the box's contents; he just picked the first item that his hand landed on up then showed it. The item that he was holding out to the boys was a wallet; with the way it looked, he had a feeling that it was Bile's. The black leather material that had been used to make the wallet was thick; there were two studs on its flap; and the chain that ran from the item's left corner was thick, heavy, and "gold" in color.

After taking the wallet out from the box, then holding it out, he wasn't but so surprised in seeing Bile, his adopted son, stepping forward to collect it. Bile, after taking it from him, opened it then did as any other owner of a wallet that had been taken would do—the wallet, after being opened, was inspected.

"Not a thing taken," TazirVile noted that his adopted son was fibbing; the wallet was, indeed, missing something. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," TazirVile said.

He gave it a good consideration about voicing his... shock and displeasure over his adopted son having three photographs that were inappropriate for one of his age in his wallet; he had come very close to removing the photographs and then disposing them before, at the very last second, deciding to let them remain in the wallet.

To him, his adopted son had Man's photographs—photographs that were fit for only a man to have and look at—in his wallet. His eyes had more than grown wide after the photograph of the very busty woman had been seen; this woman, who had slanted eyes, and oriental facial features, was wearing absolutely nothing on her top half. Her bottom half was the only thing that was clothed—which he was more than glad for; the blue, wrap-around skirt did well in keeping her lower, girlie parts covered. The second photograph that was in the wallet was of another half-dressed woman; this one, who was wearing a simple pair of slacks on her bottom half, was doing nothing more than looking down at the barely noticeable floorboards that were present in the picture. The third photograph had caused him to drop the wallet and then shake his head; why he hadn't confiscated that one was beyond him but, yeah, he had left the thing be in its sleeve. The woman in the third photograph, that was present in one of the wallet's three photo sleeves, was wearing nothing at all; a thin piece of fabric, which had been placed across her waist, and a heart-shaped charm necklace were the only two things that she had on her body. It was the fact of the woman's leg being held up, in a sultry way, that had caused him to get a wee bit excited; he saw no point in her having a cigarette but, yeah, she had been photographed while having a cigarette between the index and middle fingers of one of her hands.

Boys will be boys—he guessed that this was why he had left the three photographs be in the wallet. While he was a grown man he wasn't above the notion of having risque photographs in his wallet—he had a photograph of his wife, who was sitting sideways, and who was half naked, in his wallet; the photograph that his nephew had given him, which he had never returned to him, from before his wife had become his wife was also in his wallet.

After returning the wallet to his adopted son he reached back into the box; the next wallet that he took out had also been made out of a thick leather material, but this material was brown in color instead of black. It had red stitching on its outer edges. He wasted not a second in holding this wallet, which had a photo I.D. in one of its sleeves that had his son's image on it, out to his oldest born son; Lhaklar came forward at once to retrieve it. Like with Bile, Lhaklar opened and then inspected the items that were in the wallet after reclaiming it as his.

"Lhaklar! What the... you been robbing banks or something?" Angel exclaimed after seeing the large wad of cash that her son had just taken from his wallet.

"No—along with saving everything that I find on the ground, and all of what I make extra at work, I've been saving all of what I have left of the allowance that you give me." Lhaklar replied, he started counting the money. "Yep, all here."

"My curious mind wants to know how much you have in your hand," Angel said.

"Two thousand, one hundred, and eighty-eight dollars."

"What!"

He found himself to be curious about the one fact that had just been made known to him—Lhaklar, his oldest-born son, had had a job? His son, who was no more than two thousand, one hundred years of age, had been on the workforce before he had come along to claim both he, his brothers, and his mother? What job would pay one of his son's age so handsomely for the amount of dough that his son had? He had been "naughty" in taking the cash out from the wallet and then counting it—his son had as much as he currently did, which was a big surprise.

He had thought long and hard about putting the cash in an envelope and then putting the envelope in his safe; his son, at a later time, after he was more settled in on living at his birth and raising-place, would be allowed to have small amounts of it but he'd not be allowed to have all of it to blow at a time—before the trust thing had rang in his head, this had been his plan on what he was to do with the money that he had found in his son's wallet. The money had been returned to the wallet after the trust thing came to him; while the money was where it was suppose to be there were two things that were missing in the wallet. One of the two things that he had confiscated had been a rubber; why that had been on his son's possession was beyond him. Lhaklar was much too young to be thinking about sex; he had taken the prophylactic under the pretext of his wanting to be sure that his son got no crazy ideas about having sex at his age.

He knew that kids carried the weirdest of things on their person for luck; he, as a young teenager, had carried a copper and silver coin in his pocket for years—it had been sitting on the dash of his father's car, his father had said that he didn't care whether he took the thing or not so he had just taken it and then pocketed it without running the worry of getting a good welt to his backside. The coin had been moved from his pocket to his wallet six years later; a gold candy wrapper, that had been found lying out in his father's front yard one day, had joined it—he had been hoping to get double luck by having both it and the coin on his person.

Regardless of his son's intention for that rubber, he wasn't about to allow him to have one on his person until he was of age to both have and use them.

After Lhaklar returned the money to the wallet, then placed the wallet in his back pants pocket, then walked off, he reached back into the box; the next wallet that he took out was rather unique. It had an all-black leather material on it; a stallion's head, and a small portion of the stallion's neck, had been engraved on both of the item's sides. A horseshoe had been engraved around the stallion. Sensing that this wallet belonged to his youngest son, he turned then showed it to him; Lazeer nodded his head after seeing the wallet. He tossed the wallet over to his son then he reached his hand back into the box; the final wallet that he removed had been made out of a red-brown leather material. The pattern on the wallet's front flap was very crocodile-like in appearance. After taking the wallet out, he held it out for his wife to take; Angel took the wallet from him then walked it over to Hazaar, who was slow in both taking it from her and in placing it in his back pants pocket.

"Who's the one that had the twin-blade pocketknife?" TazirVile asked. The knife that was in his hand was light in weight and was black on one of its sides; the other side was a metal-silver color.

"Me," Lazeer said in a weak voice.

"Don't hurt yourself with it now," TazirVile said. He tossed the knife over to his youngest son, who caught it then quickly stuffed it into the front left pocket of his pants. With that done, he said, "You and I need to talk about that knife. I like the design."

"Your daddy is one who likes bats, Lazie." Angel clarified what he had said.

"My wife, I do think, remembers me and my tastes well." TazirVile said. He smiled at his wife, who returned his smile quickly; with this done between then, he returned his hand to the box. "Bile, I take it that this knife is yours?"

He had never seen a knife like that of what he had found in one of the pockets of the pair of pants that had been left with the other clothes in his ship's medical chamber; all of what his sons had worn on the day of their capture had been collected and then stored in a box, he had looked through everything that had been collected and he had also placed certain things that he had thought were important away for sake-keeping. The knife was either Bile's or Lhaklar's; with its shape and design, he automatically thought that it belonged to his adopted son.

The knife had a big handle to it, which had four blades in it; the seven-inch, the six-inch, the four-inch, and the small, two-inch blades were all well-contained. The handle had a very well-polished and shiny, Dragon-Motorcycle design to it, which he thought was very unique. After finding this knife, then opening it, he had tested its four blades for their sharpness; the seven and six-inch blades were quite sharp while the four and two-inch blades were a little on the dull side—he could barely cut through a piece of paper with the four-inch blade while the two-inch blade had plain refused to cut the piece of paper that he had held to it.

As he had expected, Bile walked up after he spoke about the knife; he took the knife, then he pocketed it, then he thanked him for returning it to him. He said his welcomes then he reached into the box for the second to last knife that was in it; the next knife that he took out had a medium redwood handle on it that housed a four-inch stainless steel blade. He didn't need to be told that this was Lhaklar's; he remembered all too well that his oldest born son had had a knife such as this on his person at one time a few months ago. He tossed the pocketknife over to his firstborn son then he put his hand back into the box for the last remaining knife.

"Maybe I shouldn't," he thought after taking the final knife out of the box.

He thought long and hard about returning the knife that he had in his hand to his son; with Hazaar being in the state that he was in, he might well use it on someone without realizing that he was using it. Now that he thought of it, maybe he shouldn't of returned Lazeer's knife to him—he, at both Hazaar's and Lazeer's age, hadn't been allowed to have knives; along with not being allowed to own a knife, or have knives on his person, he had been watched like a hawk whenever a normal dinner knife was in his hand and was being used on whatever he had been given to eat for supper. Like all mid-teenagers, he had been curious about knives; his parents had decided that his having a knife would be much like his having a gun—at that time in his life, they had thought that it'd be too risky for him to have a knife.

The knife that he was holding was small; it had a four-inch blade in it that was bronze in color. The handle was gold in color and was shaped like a dragon; to him, it still looked like it had a wing-shaped can opener on its back. Like with Lazeer's knife, and Bile's, he thought that it was unique and, just like theirs, he liked it.

After giving it a good thinking over, he held the knife out to his wife; she, at once, came over to retrieve it. Once it was in her possession, she took it over to their son.

"Think your father is thinking the same as I with this, Hazaar." he heard his wife say to Hazaar. "You be careful—you use, or act as if you're going for it, and it'll be taken away. Hear me?"

"Yes momma." Hazaar said. He took the knife from his mother then he stuffed it into the front right pocket of his pants.

With the knives and wallets squared away, he turned his attention to the non-worry items that were in the box; the November edition of a magazine called Playboy was taken out and then given to his wife then the cigarette case was taken out. He held this case, which was silver-aluminum in color, and that had an etching of a bull deer leaping over a log on its top side, out to Lhaklar; except for the cigarettes that had formerly been in it it was intact. Lhaklar took it without saying a word to him.

The next few items that were in the box he had found in the car, which had been found in the parking lot that had been adjacent the dump that the boys had been retrieved from. A big, black canvas bag was removed and then held out; with the exception of the bagged pot, and the joints, that had formerly been in the bag everything was intact—it seemed that one of the boys had an interest in music that he thought was very harmful to the ear. There were ten music discs in the bag—Judas Priests's Screaming for Vengeance, Ozzy Osbourne's Bark At The Moon, Disturbed's Indestructible, Hinder's All American Nightmare, Three Days Grace's Human, Rammstein's Sehnsecht, Godsmack's Faceless, AC/DC's The Razor's Edge, Hollywood Undead, and Motley Crue's Theater of Pain.

The bag had no more been held out before being retrieved; Bile stepped forward, then took the bag, then thanked him before moving off.

"Who was it that drove the car?" TazirVile asked. He decided to cut to the chase in who owned the deep red car that he had found in the dump's adjacent parking lot—at the moment, it was "taking up space" in his garage; after finding his wife's, and the boys', DNA in it he had decided to send it to his garage for safe-keeping. "The Buick Lew—"

"The Buick Lucerne? That's my car." Angel said. "I let Bile, Hazaar, and Lazeer have it on the day that you... reclaimed us."

"Baby, you do know that the boys are much too young to be driving?" TazirVile asked. Along with the bags of pot, and the joints that had been in the canvas bag, he had also confiscated all of the driver's licenses that had been found in the boys' wallets.

"What the Universe doesn't know won't hurt anyone." Angel said. "They drive very well—all of them do."

He was a bit disrespectful in regards to the piece of information that he had just been given about the boys driving—he didn't care if they were good, suburb, excellent, or halfway decent drivers; now that they were under his roof, none of the boys would be driving until after they reached the legal, appropriate age to do so. Teenagers were not good drivers; he knew from experience, and from hearing stories on how certain male members of his family had been when they had taken it under their caps to go on a "pleasure" drive with one of their father's cars, about how they were when they drove.

Kuruk, his older half-brother, had been very foot heavy when he had started driving—one time, when he had been one thousand, three hundred, and nine years old, he had come very close to rolling one of their father's cars over to its side after deciding to take it for a "cruise" down the stretch of road that the old place was located on. Vile—his nephew, his wife's father and Family Husband, and Bile's biological father—had actually had the nerve to steal one of his father's cars after a fight occurred between he and his father; from what he had been told, Vile had managed to speed the vehicle down the road about ten miles before losing control and then nearly wrapping it around a tree. Vile had been one thousand, four hundred, and three years old at the time of that occurrence.

He could take the loss of his vehicles, and the insurance claims, and having to purchase another to replace them, but he couldn't take the loss of one of his loved ones—he did not want to lose any of his children or his wife.

TazirVile reached his hand back into the box; he took out several more boxes, which had been shrinked to a smaller size after he had said a spell to make them become smaller. Once these were out, then placed on the bench that was close to the bed, he said the spell that'd make them return to their original sizes; each box contained a slew of plastic bags in them that, he guessed, had come from one of them good Samaritan stores or from a retailer.

"Someone have a girlfriend, or a girl that they're trying to impress?" TazirVile asked the boys. "Found quite a lot of fem—"

"Last I heard, Bile and Lhaklar have a harem of ten—they've got three kids per woman; mom's got plenty of grand—"

"We went shopping for our mother." Bile cut Lazeer off; he glared at his younger brother for only a second before going towards the boxes. He started searching through the boxes right after reaching them.

He was fast in putting two-and-two together on who the feminine items were for; after Bile called Angel over, then started sifting through the first of the two bags that he had taken from the boxes, he deduced that the boys liked to treat their mother—this was good information to know. Why, whenever he went out to get a little something for Angel he might also take one or more of the boys with him—have it be an outing with a dual-purpose of his spending time with his sons while also looking to get a little spoiling gift for his wife.

Bile was steady during the removal of the items that were his from the boxes while Lazeer tip-toed around him; he took five bags from two of the boxes then he back-tracked to the side of the room that he had previously been standing at. Hazaar crawled over to the edge of the bed then reached over to the four boxes that were on the room's bench; he took the same amount of bags that Lazeer had taken from the boxes then he simply sat back on the bed. Lhaklar, surprisingly and interestingly, didn't come forward to claim anything from the boxes.

With the boxes now empty, TazirVile collected them; he made them shrink to a smaller size then he walked them over where the bigger box was. He was just putting the smaller boxes into the bigger box when the distribution of what was in the bags occurred.

It didn't take him long to figure out that it had just been Bile, Hazaar, and Lazeer who had done some shopping for their mother.

"My goodness!" Angel exclaimed after her sons started handing her things from the bags.

Lazeer had gotten his mother a lovely blue topaz and bead necklace—he was fast in noting that it'd drop to about two inches from her neck. His and his wife's youngest son had also bought her a bracelet that matched the necklace too; the sparkling rhinestone necklace, and the pair of seemingly matching earrings and bracelet, looked rather expensive as did the three-strand, silver plated, pink blossom rhinestone necklace that he also gave her. Lazeer ended his gift giving with a pair of shoes that had two-inch heels on them—they were a size seven, which would fit his mother well, and they had red sequins on them.

Hazaar had gotten his mother a dark cherry flap-bag that had a dark red leather strap, that was braided very well; the red-bead necklace, that was all knotted up in the center, looked rather cheap but Angel didn't seem to mind at all about its price. He had to ask to see the final item that Hazaar gave his mother—the final item was a pouch made for jewelry; it was red, and was flecked with gold sequins, and it had a black strap that tied around its top. He thought that this item was a good purchase for his wife—why, she could store the jewelry that she decided to remove from her person when she was out on the town in it.

Bile had gotten his mother some very fine things; the light brown suede dress, that had tassels coming down from the knee-high skirt, would look nice on the fine woman and so would the jewelry set—the set consisted of a necklace, that had fake gold coins hanging from it, a set of matching earrings, and a single, false-gold bracelet. The final item that Bile gave his mother was both pretty and a little on the tacky side—it was a ring. It was a dull, but quite glisteny, red color; the coiled snake design that was on the ring's band was covered in red and pink "diamonds" while the eyes of the serpent looked to have emerald-imitation gems in them.

"Man, I feel left out here." Lhaklar moped. "You guys got mom lots of stuff while I got her nothing."

Lhaklar's glum mood didn't last long; it looked like the "good Samaritan" vistation was very far fetched—from what the boys told him, they had neither visited one of them buildings or organizations nor had been planning to on the day that they had been removed from Earth. It looked like the boys were also very open to purchasing certain things for both themselves and for one another while out on the town as well; of the four, only Bile looked to of been fully concentrative on getting things for his mother—he didn't get any of his brothers anything during his time on the town.

Hazaar had really gone out of his way in getting something for nearly everyone; along with getting himself something he had also gotten Bile and Lhaklar a small gift. Bile received two magazines that were full of knife-related merchandise; an interesting item, that looked more brain than skull, was also given to him. Lhaklar was given one of them skeleton watches—while the clock part was very visible the inner workings of the watch could also be seen, which both he and his oldest born son thought was cool. Hazaar had purchased several magazines for himself; he took a keen interest in the one model that his son had gotten for himself—it looked like a model of one of them freaky hybrid animals; the head and neck was like that of an Eagle while the arms, body, and legs were definitely Tyrannosaur in orgin. The tail and wings looked to of been based off of what was known to be on a bat. The wording that was on the box said that the model was the most fierce creature that had ever flown the skies; the Tyranaglat is the most fearsome of all flying animals.

Lazeer surprised his brother by giving him a model car; the box's image depicted a vehicle that, some two to three thousand years ago, use to be made by the Shofanusians—the Chei had been a fine car back in the day... by the time the humans had finally gotten their hands on it, it had been a dying out fad. The model was of what the humans called a Chevy Coupe Lowrider; Lhaklar thanked his brother for the model then claimed that the model was based off what had been made and then sold in 1939. Other than the 1939 Chevy Coupe model Lazeer had also gotten two, plane and boat-related magazines and two models—he took a very keen interest in these four items after hearing that his youngest son had purchased them for himself. Lazeer claimed that the model plane was of a McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom II; the other model that he had gotten for himself was of a three-headed dragon.

"Did you catch anything when you was at Medicine Bow National Forest?" Angel asked her son, who was busy in gazing at his new watch.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah—a bull deer, a turkey, and eleven fish." Lhaklar said after looking up from his watch. "Wanted to get one of the fish that I caught mounted."

"Mounted? Ma! Lhaklar just said that he wanted to rape one of the fish that he caught." Lazeer said loudly.

"What fish was it?" TazirVile asked his son.

"Th-the Bl-black bullhead c-c-catfish." Lhaklar stammered.

"You caught eleven fish but you only wanted one to be preserved?" TazirVile asked his son. "Describe to me this fish please—all of what you caught is in the smaller kitchen's freezer."

"I w-wasn't fi-fishing to... you know... keep any. The last fish w-was a su—"

"The boys do a lot of outdoor recreational activities—they do so to add something different to our diets and—"

"We love our mother's cooking!" Bile, Hazaar, and Lazeer sang.

"Right—they like it when I cook whatever they bring home." Angel said. "The fish that my son wants to get preserved has barbels near its mouth."

"I see. I can keep the fish that he caught fresh and frozen until you, and they, are more settled." TazirVile said. "In the mean time, I'll have the fish that he wants preserved done; it'll be waiting for him in his chamber."

"Thank you." Angel said for her son, who seemed to be having a time in controlling himself.

The events of what happened next happened very quickly; after telling his son that he'd keep the fish that he had caught fresh, and then that he'd get the one fish that he wanted to keep preserved for him, he noticed a sudden change in his color. Lhaklar went two shades of green lighter; he had no more gone from having mint green skin to very pale green skin when he ran off towards the room's bathroom—his hand was clamped over his mouth just before he reached the room that he was gearing for. Angel tore off in pursuit of him after he ran off.

TazirVile saw the event of his son getting sick as perfectly natural—at the time that the boys had been retrieved, and then removed from Earth, they had been smoking. None of them had had a single smoke in five days now, which, he fully thought and believed, was causing them to experience the withdrawal of nicotine. While he would much prefer to speak to the boys on their now-past smoking habits, and then having them quit while also being communicative with him, he was happy to know that they weren't smoking anymore—like with their driving, a child of their age should not be indulging in smoking.

Seeing things as they were—Lhaklar getting sick, and Angel having "abandoned" her other sons to tend him—he decided to get up and then vacate the room. When he left the room, he did something that he hadn't been doing these past five days—the door to the room was left half ajar. His sons weren't going anywhere, and neither was their mother; it was time to give his just returned family a little more freedom and it was also time to let the curious juices that he knew were in them become expressed.