Falling Skies

Twenty Five

Before them lies a darkened oak door, a small wreath comprised of ivy and golden flowers resting in the center as Wren knocks on the door once more.

They lay exhausted on a wooden porch, Abrahm sprawled against the chipped away cobblestone stairs as December leans against the wooden railing of the porch, examining a small insect that walks by.

It felt as if they'd been traveling through the woods for centuries, the journey within the realm seemingly twice as long as the journey outside of it. By now the sun has set on them twice, a golden glow peaking out from the tops of the woods as pink rays filter out through the leaves. The weather is hot enough that December has rid himself of his shirt, back bare and dripping of sweat as he hunches over the railing, eyes meeting Abrahm's for a mere moment before they both turn away.

He had promised Abrahm to help him fight for Haven. Yet the mere thought of it... of cutting open another body, of fighting against Wren, drugging him, restraining him. The ordeal returns only in flashes but it's enough to fill December with an uneasy guilt.

With a third knock the door swings open, a short woman standing in shock in the doorway. She's a plump woman, cheeks thick, rounded, and red much like the rest of her. She shares the same strange features as Wren though December still can't place which features they are. Her hair lays in blonde curls against her shoulders and she rests a woven basket against her hip filled with bread that radiates heat onto the porch.

As her green eyes scan the group her thin lips widen in shock, the basket crashing to the floor though she's too paralyzed to retrieve it.

"Ma'am?" Wren questions, something about him changing as December stiffens in caution.

The woman only widens her eyes, a chubby hand falling against her lips in a poor attempt to shield her shock.

"I know that this home is common among travelers? That you have a human medic here? I'm injured and so is my friend." He adds, gesturing to Ryder with the nod of his head.

The woman merely nods, her head stiffly turning around as she waves for the attention of another woman. From the crack of the ajar door, December can make out the features of another woman only slightly, the body coming forward to greet the other woman in the doorway.

The blonde one opens the door wider, revealing the younger girl to the group. Her features are all the more human, lips small and doll-like as her brown hair lies tied in a bun. She wears a ruined apron stained with dough, her attention falling to the dropped bread before following the trail it leads to the group on the porch. As her eyes scan the group she grasps onto the blonde woman's arm, leaving a reddened mark in its wake.

"Your majesty?" She whispers, eyes wide as they scan up and down Wren's exhausted appearance. "Mother, the king is at our door don't just stare at him!" The young girl ushers the boys past the older woman still in shock, slamming the door behind them before pushing them into a small kitchen.

"King?" Ryder hushes under his breath in Wren's ear, the fae merely turning red at the accusations.

"I didn't want Haven to know I held power and use me to get to my people. I swear I'll explain." Wren whispers back sheepishly as the brunette ushers him to the head of the table.

The cottage is small but homey, surrounded on all sides by rustic wood planks and broken up cobblestone just like the porch suggested. They reside within the kitchen, seated at a long wooden table that is clearly handmade, covered in a home sewn tablecloth made from patches of different fabrics. Atop of the multicolored cloth lies ceramic dishes, a large bowl of food sat in the middle that the brunette dishes out onto each plate.