Flora pulled back the bow, feeling the tension in her arms as it pulled back against her. Her breathing was calm and smooth, or at least, she tried to keep it that way. Trace was nearby, humming gently as he read a heavy book in the afternoon sun. Though the skies above them were bright and blue, a bank of clouds loomed to the north, slowly covering the hills in a dull shadow as a damp wind carried the humidity before them. A dull twang, swish, and a distant thud rang out as her arrow flew over the target she had set up on the far side of the lawn. Her quiver was nearly empty, and the wooden bullseye had yet to be marred. Not a single hit. "Trace, what am I doing wrong?" she said, exasperated. "I know I haven practiced in a while, but I haven't even come close to the target."

He glanced up from the book, thinking. "I'm not sure. I'm not really an archer. Barret would probably be able to tell just by looking at the arrows, but I'm afraid I'm less useful."

Flora frowned as she lowered the bow. He had said that she was doing well, and that she could always ask him questions, but he wasn't here. "Do… do you think he's alright still?"

Setting the book aside, Trace stood up and walked over to her. "I'm certain he's fine. When he gets back, we'll have plenty of stories to tell each other. He left to grow, he left to learn. He has Haelith and Raine with him, so they'll watch his back."

"I wish he told us before he left."

"Same, but it was his choice. Remember back before Lyn'Knoll? He said that he considered us family. He wouldn't leave forever without saying goodbye. He'll come back. We just have to wait." Trace pulled her close, feeling her heartbeat next to his. "I can't wait for him to come back. He'll be so happy that you're expecting again."

When Flora pulled herself free of Trace, she sighed. "I still feel a bit bad about not waiting for him to come back before we got married."

"He'll understand." Zen said as he stepped out into the warm, late spring weather. "Though he might be upset about missing all the action that came after."

"How's that arm feeling?" Trace asked as he sat back down. Flora began walking away to collect her arrows.

Zen chuckled as he sat down next to Trace. "It does. I actually can feel my arm again. It hurts, but at least that means I'm getting better."

"Good. I know it will be a long time until you are fully recovered, or at least as recovered as you can be, but at least this is progress."

"Sythe told me that you were learning to read." Flora said as she walked back, a dozen arrows in her hands. "How's that coming along?"

"Honestly? Not quite what I hoped it would be. It's interesting, sure, but it's not a skill I'm going to use very often. I already know how to read, at least a little bit. The Brotherhood puts markings on buildings and trees to indicate nearby threats, safe havens, possible routes, things like that."

"You don't want to learn?" Trace asked as he opened his book back up.

"It's not that I don't want to learn, it's just not something I'll use often. It would be like if you learned how to sail. Sure, it would be a nice skill to have, but you rarely go near the ocean, let alone actually go out and sail."

"I guess…" Trace frowned as he shook his head. "I know it's not everyone's favorite thing to do, but there are some very interesting books out there. Not just ones on history, but science, math, and more. And not just real life, but there are entire worlds contained within the pages of some books." His face suddenly lit up as he glanced down at the book he held. "Here, try reading this one next."

Taking the book, Zen stared at the cover. "Really? What's it about?"

"Well, there's a young man who finds an evil artifact, one that corrupts the very soul of those nearby. He meets up with a group of friends, and they set out to destroy this artifact, a twisted and warped ring, They go across mountains, though vast forests, over wide plains, even into the depths of the earth itself. It's a story of heroism, and how you can always find hope in the darkest times, even when all other lights seem to dim. It's the little things, the small acts of kindness that hold the world together, that is what can raise armies, rally men, spurn them to fight against all odds. The little things give hope, hope for tomorrow." Zen stared at the cover of the very thick book with wonder. He looked at the golden words on it, and tried to make it out.

"The… Black… Ring?"

"Very good!" Trace smiled. Flora leaned on a nearby tree, listening. "There's plenty of books like this that are not meant to just inform you, but are meant to tell a story, meant to inspire you to change the world. It's not just you learning about something, it's about making a world within your mind, one only you can really see. Sure, I could read the same book, but my world will be slightly different, and that's a good thing."

"I'll certainly give it a try, but this is a lot." Zen said, the heavy book on his lap. They remained in silence, unsure what to talk about next, until Zen spoke. "Do you think Barret is on his way back yet?"

"I don't know." Trace frowned, turning away. "I hope so. We really could use his knowledge. As much as I've found, the Sentinels are still a mystery to me."

"Until Barret gets back, do you know about archery?" Flora asked. "I can't seem to figure out why my aim is so bad recently."

Zen chuckled. "Not to be rude, but it might have to do with that." He pointed to her belly, which was beginning to show a bump. Flora glanced down, and sudden realization came to her face.

"Oh. Yeah, that might it. I have to hold the bow a bit more out than usual I guess…" She blushed, but couldn't help but chuckle with Zen.

…

Maren hummed gently as she chopped some onions on a cutting board. Sure, she could probably summon ingredients very easily, but she took pleasure in doing things the old fashioned way. It was tedious, but calming in it's own special way. Her mind wandered to many things, from possible flavor combinations to where to go when the war ended. She was drawn from her musing by soft footsteps to her right. "Anything I can help with?" Mike asked as he set down a pitcher of wine.

"No, but thank you for the offer." she said with a gentle smile. "This is… calming for me. It let's me think for a while."

"Gives you a chance to do something other than try to wrangle Karen?"

Maren laughed. "Well… I wasn't going to admit it… but yeah. She gets to be a bit much some days."

"You're her older sister. She's going to always cause problems for you. That's just how siblings are."

"Sounds like someone with plentiful experience."

"Experience? Well, you could say that. Evals might not be my sibling, but he is my brother in a lot of ways."

"You don't have any siblings?" She glanced over. He had pulled several bell peppers out of a basket, and was slicing them up with her.

"No. But there's more than one way to have a brother or sister. Evals and I met only a few years ago when Eric bought us, and we've been practically inseparable since then. Or look at Trace and Keith. They're practically brothers. They trust each other with their lives, and have done so time and time again. Siblings are just the people we want to spend life with. Joke with, have meals with, laugh and cry with. All that to say that siblings will always cause you problems. But they also will be there to pick you up after you fall down, and will be the first ones to come to your side in times of trouble." He turned and reached for a large pot that was hanging on the wall as he spoke. "By the way, what were you planning to cook?"

"I wasn't actually sure." Maren admitted. "I just wanted to spend some time with my thoughts. I just started without really thinking that far ahead. With the peppers and onions, we could try to make a nice chili, toss in some meat and spices, something like that."

"Heavy cayenne and allspice, with a thick veggie puree?"

"It's like you read my mind."

Mike chuckled. "Chili is one of my favorite dishes to make, but no one else likes mine. If I make it, I'm getting a nice, flavorful heat that slowly cooks as you eat it, heating you to the core. But it usually ends up too hot for everyone else."

Maren turned to him, beaming. "I'd love to try it! I'm the same way!"

"I remember when Barret was here, he loved to cook too."

"Oh? I didn't realize that he cooked."

"Well, you didn't really get a chance to be around him all that much. He spent most of the day away from everyone the second day you were here, and then he left before dawn." Maren's smile vanished. "I forgot that you had some friends leave too. Raine, the not-a-wolf, and the other Ishtaer."

"Haelith."

"Why don't you tell me about her? What's she like? What sort of food should I make when she gets back?"

Maren was quite for a minute as she pushed aside the onions. From nearby she retrieved a mortar and pestle, as well as a wide collection of herbs and spices. "She'd definitely not like this. You might think that as a dragon-kin she would love spicy food, but the one time Aidu made pork stuffed jalapenos, she barely ate. She told me later that she does like some spicy food, but there's a certain limit that she just can't tolerate more than. Usually she would eat the same thing everyone else did, but would occasionally do strange things, like put salt on raw veggies. I thought that was weird, but I gave it a try and it's not bad!"

Mike laughed as he lit a fire on the stove, the heavy cast iron pot dropping with a thud. "I'll take your word for it! Sounds like you really knew her."

"Not as well as I'd hoped. Raine was her closest friend. It was strange for the first few days, but she eventually opened up to me. She has a lot of baggage from her past, both figuratively and literally. She grew up in relative luxury, but then had to run away when Trace came trying to kill her. She was… hesitant… at first. Probably felt a lot like I did on the way back here from Valinos. It wasn't easy to come back here, especially after I nearly died. But Trace is a new man now. He's changed for the better. He's doing everything he can to put his past behind him, and I can't fault him for who he was. The old Trace is dead. Destroyed by the one we love now."

Mike mixed in the spices as she spoke, listening to her every word. "If it were the other way around, it would be a tragedy. But you're right. The old Trace is gone. And that's a good thing. Now, where you thinking beef or pork for the meat?"