Jack sat at the kitchen table, feeling content and a little sore. He was surrounded by his loving family. His mom had just finished serving their evening meal and had sat down to eat with him, his sister, and their dad. Little Richard’s cradle had been brought into the kitchen; he was asleep.

  The tantalising aroma of a freshly cooked chicken filled the space. It was early Friday evening, and his mom tended to cook chicken to celebrate the end of the working week.

  Good memories of spending Friday evenings with his family and sometimes friends, eating good food flooded his mind. I’m so lucky. I get to it all again, and this time… this time I’ll protect them. He held back tears of joy as his mom spoke.

  “I have some great news.” She looked at Jack and smirked while pouring herself and her husband a glass of red wine. “Your eldest son told me he’s looking forward to your next hike, honey. Isn’t that exciting?” She clapped her hands in mock excitement before pouring Jack and Polly a glass of fresh apple juice.

  Although Jack and Polly were both considered old enough to consume alcohol—the Kingdom of Merciar had lax laws on alcohol consumption—their mother believed those under twenty-one shouldn’t drink. As far as their mother was concerned, her children ‘legally’ couldn’t drink.

  His dad frowned. “What?” He looked at his wife and then at his son. “You want to go hiking? You? Really?” He looked confused as he again looked at his wife for guidance. She smiled. “Hiking with me?”

  Jack chuckled while eyeing the wine. I don’t need a drink. I have my family. He took a sip of apple juice. At this time, on a Friday evening, it wasn’t unusual for the forty-one-year-old version of him to be drinking in a tavern so he didn’t have to think about his murdered family.

  “Yeah, why not?” Jack replied. “I’ll appreciate the exercise and…”

  He was interrupted by Polly laughing. “You appreciate exercise?” she said while stuffing her mouth with food. “I’ve seen you struggle holding a conversation.”

  Their mom laughed. Even their dad chuckled.

  Despite wanting to laugh, Jack ignored the funny comment. “Yes. I can appreciate the benefits of exercise.” He looked at his amused family. “I even did some exercise earlier.” He gestured with his glass of apple juice at his sister. “When was the last tim…”

  He was interrupted again as Polly laughed even louder. “What did you do?” She smirked, a sure sign she had a good insult. “Did ya strain yourself on the toilet? Was it a big exercise? Did it put up a struggle?”

  Their mother laughed so loud she woke up little Richard. She picked him up to settle him while stifling a chuckle. “Don’t be so crass, Pollyanna,” she said while still smiling.

  Their father made a short snort. A sign that he found the insult hilarious.

  Jack fought the urge to laugh at his sister’s funny insults while considering how many spider egg sacs to collect over the weekend. “I read a book that had some exercises for upper body strength…” He looked at his dad. “I thought they’d help with my scribe skills… stronger arms.”

  His father nodded along. “It won’t have a huge impact, but it will help. You might see your Class Compatibility increase a few per cent,” he explained, taking a sip of wine. “It’s how I first got into hiking. Although fitness and strength aren’t major factors for scribes, it’s good for us to keep fit. It works out all those knots and uncomfortable cramps from sitting all day. Not to mention, a bit of sunshine and fresh air does wonders for a scribe’s concentration.” He took another sip of wine before continuing, “I’ll be going for a hike on Sunday… first thing in the morning, seven sharp.” He looked at Jack.

  Jack smiled. “That sounds like fun, Dad.” He looked at Polly. “You should come too, sis, there’ll be plenty of spiders in the woods.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Polly almost choked on a mouthful of food at the suggestion.

  His mother gave him a frown as she returned the baby to the cradle. “Now, now, Jack, you don’t have to be so mean to your little sister.” She patted Polly on the back and added, “You know she’s not keen on creepy crawlies…” She pointed to Jack’s untouched food and said, “Anyway, less talking and more eating before it gets cold.”

  Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He cut into the succulent chicken and enjoyed the aroma of various herbs. “I think you’re the best cook in the world, Mom.”

  Their father grunted in agreement as he cut into crispy roast potatoes that had been cooked in goose fat to perfection.

  His mother beamed with joy and looked to Polly for a similar compliment. Polly was stuffing food in her mouth like she was in an all-you-can-eat contest she planned to win.

  Jack smiled and took a big mouthful of chicken breast dipped in home‐made spiced apple sauce; one of his mom’s secret recipes. Hmm… that is so damn good. He thought about the kind of meals he’d be having if he were still a forty-plus-year-old loner. Why do taverns always serve unidentified meat and gristle pie? Shivering at the memory of the hard, rubbery texture of undercooked, sinewy meat he had once endured. What the hell went in those pies? He grimaced, recalling the unpleasant popping and crunching sounds that had accompanied each bite before, struggling to chew and swallow the bland ‘meat’.

  A few minutes later, his dad stopped eating. “I’ve got you an appointment for Tuesday morning with a good tailor to outfit you with a quality work suit, Son.” He took a sip of wine. “You have to make a good impression from day one. The Baron takes pride in the Ancient Texts department.”

  Jack managed a forced smile while taking a sip of his apple juice, wishing it were a strong ale to quiet the seething anger at the mere mention of Baron Greaves. “Thanks, Dad. I look forward to it,” he said through a strained smile. In an effort to regain control, he recalled his old routine. Guess I’m wearing a suit and bowler hat again. After the fire stole his life, he stopped wearing formal workwear.

  Everyone working at the Royal Library was expected to dress appropriately. The men wore dark coloured suits and bowler hats. The women wore dark conservative dresses with matching hats. The exception was the few male nobles working there, including Baron Greaves, who wore colourful waistcoats and top hats.

  After their evening meal, the family stayed in the kitchen for a couple of hours discussing mundane things. Jack couldn’t have been happier as he listened to his dad discussing the state of the Kingdom and how it was much better when he was younger. Since his mother spent a lot of time in the kitchen working, the family tended to spend most of their time there as well. It was the hub of the home.

  Jack returned to his room and got back to finishing the chronos sphere spell scroll he’d stored in a book. He fell into a routine of creating at least one scroll followed by exercise. After a few hours, he looked at the small stack of spell scrolls he’d been hiding in a book. “I’ve got six chronos sphere, two fireball, and two frost breath scrolls.”

  Although there was more profit in the chronos sphere scrolls, he decided to go with variety, so the shopkeeper wouldn’t get suspicious.

  As he stretched his sore body from all the exercise, he worked out how much the old shopkeeper would pay him. “That should be 7 silvers for the chronos sphere scrolls and 2 silvers and 50 coppers for the others. In total, that’s…” He did the maths. “45 silvers.”

  “Not bad. Fifty-five minutes for a chronos sphere and twenty-seven minutes for a fireball or frost breath.” Jack smiled. “I can already afford a bow.” He stored the scrolls inside a book alongside the sketches of Baron Greaves and the other blood mages.

  As he glanced at the image of Greaves, he had an epiphany. “I memorised the first section of the blood magic grimoire.” He sat on his bed in shock. “Why didn’t I think of this before?” he asked himself. With his Perfect Recall skill, he’d memorised both the encrypted, unencrypted, and translated versions of the first section of the forbidden text. “I can create a copy of the text and send it to the Inquisition.”

  Jack looked at the time. It was too late to start now, and he was exhausted from all the exercise. “I’ll get it done over the next week and send it to the Inquisition anonymously.” He smiled as he tried to get comfortable in bed.

  “Perhaps I won’t even need a bow… Damn. I could’ve chosen the mage class.” He shook his head. “No. I have to be prepared for anything.” With at least a dozen noble blood mages in the city, he didn’t know how far the rot had spread. “I should be able to get a good starter bow and arrows for 70 silvers.” The bow wouldn’t be anything special, but for practice, it didn’t need to be.

  Jack realised another problem. “Where am I going to store a bow?” He couldn’t hide it anywhere in the house; it would be a matter of time before his mother found it. He thought about the courtyard outside their home, but shook his head. His mom spent too much time in her herb garden; she’d find it.

  Having no answer and feeling tired, he closed his eyes. Despite the hard surface, he was so exhausted from exercise that he was fast asleep within minutes of lying down.