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Chapter 40

  The village didn’t have a name. It was just “The Village.” Really said a lot about the people who lived there…

  The two dozen Blessed ones–everyone knew their names, and knew what they looked like. Everyone wasn’t friends with everyone. This was especially true for 24 Blessed Ones due to clashes in personality. And then, because people liked to gravitate around one or two blessed, natural biases formed based on who a person preferred.

  The Blessed ones were definitely figures that drew attention and respect–having them was like the proof that there was something greater out there, after all. But there were also other families who were respected despite not having a Blessed one.

  Runica’s family–the Mastersons–was one of those families.

  In this village, a family was respected if they made giant contributions.

  Old Man Crown’s people were very good at preserving food and keeping the scavenger animals away. No one wanted to piss off the man with the extra storage and tricks.

  The Grendel family–as I understood now–were essentially leading the charge on domesticating the animals that frequented the hunting grounds. They had the right cave chickens and cave goats, and their expertise were built on generations upon generations of knowledge they gained through trial and error. When there was a new animal we wanted to exploit, they were the ones with the best shot of doing it.

  The Smiths, as the name would suggest, were the ones who made all the weapons. We weren’t as lucky as Lyra’s village. We were not rich in ore. We had to get creative with boring rocks, exotic flora, and strange mushrooms. Actually, on that point, my knowledge of Earth gave me a new perspective on the village. With the amount of stuff we actually had, I could say we were a mushroom-punk society. The Smiths contributed greatly to that, using all sorts of fungi for practical furniture and crafts.

  Back to the Mastersons–they were the ones who brought a sort of alcohol to the village–Mushroom Beer. These guys were just regular farmers, growing what they could, and then one day, they unveiled one of the greatest beverages the village had ever tasted. No one wanted to piss them off and get cut off.

  That was the gist of it–the respected families. The Mastersons all stayed in their own quadrant, as was common for the big families. Runica’s father—Kolson—had two brothers. Each of the brothers had a home on the property.

  Kolson’s home was where they took me after my announcement at the square.

  They made it clear that we were going to celebrate, not just my survival, but also the fact that I had “Finally made my intentions clear with Runica.” I really didn’t get a choice in the matter of celebrating or not.

  They said so much on the way there–

  “HE DID IT! HE FINALLY KISSED HER!” one cousin yelled, like it was the highlight of the last hundred days.

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  “All you pricks owe me morsels,” Kolm had said, having made bets with nearly everyone. To my surprise, Runica’s father did not lose this bet, which gave me a bit of a warm feeling.

  This Kolson home was built into a tiered shelf of mushroom-bark and stone, cozy and stacked with more handed-down furniture than I thought a single structure could hold. As soon as we got in, someone threw a woven shawl over my shoulders and pushed a wooden mug of mushroom beer into my one hand.

  Now, we were still a village struggling to survive in a lonely cavern. They didn’t have much in the way of food, but the mushroom porridge was more than enough. While they were lacking in food, the alcohol was never-ending.

  That was the sort of celebration this was–warm food, endless mushroom beer, and a whole lot of laughs, sometimes at my expense, but mostly celebrating my survival.

  Runica stayed glued to me throughout, no matter how often her siblings and cousins teased her about it.

  This was the first time I had seen so much of the family together–Runica’s Uncle Castor and five of his kids and spouse, Runica’s siblings and father, and even the quiet grandfather… I was surprised, looking back on my memories with wiser eyes, how often I stayed away from here…

  No matter, this was a time to be enjoyed. I could speak up, and reassure everyone that Runica was in good hands.

  ***

  We were an hour or so into the celebration, all sitting around the large table the men had pushed into the open room of the Kolson house, enjoying all sorts of conversation.

  “What’s that tower over there?” I asked, curious about the lit tower on the far side of the property. I sipped my beer as a clamor erupted, with a lot of the cousins trying to speak at once.

  “Quiet!” Uncle Castor bellowed, the large gut man swinging his mug around as his daintier wife–Aunt Tess–sat on his lap. “One at a time.”

  His sons–four fit young men, with varying beards–took heed of the man who looked like he had no trouble breaking a mug on them and answered one after the other.

  “That’s Raster’s tower,” said Blaster, the oldest son.

  “Raster’s always in there,” said Duster, the second-oldest son.

  “He’s a busy guy who always works way into the Dim Phase,” said Jaster, the fourth oldest son.

  “But I saw him leave earlier. You ever met him, Set?” asked Laster, the fifth oldest son.

  Runica answered for me, a little intoxicated, but still holding onto my shirt. “He hasn’t. But I’ve told Raster about him all the time.”

  The family laughed, with many teasing me over being too scared to come around more often.

  Kolm’s voice rose over the rest. Where the others were letting their loose smiles greet the world, Kolm was still stern, looking over everyone with narrowed eyes.

  “Raster’s a shut-in,” he said. “But recently, he’s been going out to check some things out… Set, might be bad of me to ask, but Raster’s a smart guy. He’d love to hear about anything you saw out there.”

  I nodded. “Okay… I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Runica bumped her head against my cheek. “We’re gonna go see Raster tomorrow,” she happily declared, pulling a smile out of her brother.

  “Great. Raster needs someone who can tell him new things–”

  “I want to hear about new things!” the lively woman and the eldest of Castor’s kids—Ruth—declared. This more made-up, beautiful woman with the sharp eyes of a merchant, slapped the table, knocking over five mugs of alcohol. “Set, can you tell us anything? We’ve given you so much beer–oof–”

  Kolm knocked her on the head one more time for good measure. “This wasn’t a transaction. Set, you only talk if you want to.”

  I nodded. “I’m still making sense of everything that I saw… And some things…” I took a moment. There was still too much I didn’t want to say, not before I could confirm more things. “I’ll be honest. I think it’d be irresponsible to say some things out loud without understanding what happened.”

  “Whoa,” the wide-eyed, bushy-haired Eves said. His chin resting on the wooden table’s surface, he looked at me with wonder. “What can you tell us?”

  I grinned. “I can tell you about the Shadow Beasts I saw.”

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