The air was tense. No one knew what to say to the strangers that had so violently kicked off their visit to the village. Everyone was twitching and glaring at each other. Nite could feel in the air that another fight was imminent.

It was Donald the Angry who finally dared to break the tension. "Who the hell do ya' think ya' are?" he bellowed.

The woman with the gun walked toward him, her stride confident and self-important. "Who the hell are you to be talking to me that way?" She spat at his feet. "Scum." Although she was a good foot shorter than her opponent, she stood fearlessly in his shadow.

The curious part of Nite wanted to stay and see what happened next. The more logical part knew what was coming and also that now would be a good time to leave. It was the latter that won out. She slipped out of the crowd and quickly made her way back to Clyde and Bickum.

She found Clyde standing in the front seat of the wagon and staring intently at the crowd. Bickum was sitting upright, his eyes keenly focused on Donald and the girl, who had begun to argue loudly.

"I think we should probably leave now," Nite whispered loudly to Clyde.

He tore his eyes away from the drama and looked at her with pouty lips. "But I wanna to see what happens next."

"You know what's going to happen next." She climbed into the back of the wagon and sat down on a hay bale. She had given up on the idea of walking back to the cottage. "Now take us home, please."

Clyde grumbled, but did what he was told. He flicked the reins and the horses responded immediately.

The wagon began to rock back and forth as it navigated the dirt road. They had to briefly leave the main road and travel down a narrow side road because the throng of people was blocking the main thoroughfare.

By then, Nite could hear even more yelling; she assumed that the fight had resumed. At first, she had felt sympathy for the strangers; after all, she didn't know who was to blame for the situation. But, after seeing the woman with the gun spit at Donald, she knew that they deserved whatever they got. She could only hope that none of the villagers would get hurt too badly.

The journey back home was swift, but uncomfortable. By the time they arrived, Nite had given up on sitting because various pieces of hay were poking every inch of her exposed skin. She opted to stand, leaning over to hold the edge so she didn't fall off. And even then, her ankles were poked relentlessly. She felt itchy all over. When they stopped, she practically leapt out of the wagon with joy.

With her feet now on solid ground, she went over to the front of the cart and helped Bickum down.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him, concerned.

"I am better, Stump. Believe me."

She did. Now that he had relaxed and cooled down a bit, he seemed to be able to walk better. But that didn't mean she would let him off the hook. "I want you to go inside right now and relax. Drink some water, eat some food, and lay down in bed. I'm going to help Clyde with the hay and then come inside to check on you."

Bickum tried to protest, but she forcefully turned him around and shoved him in the direction of the cottage. He glanced over his shoulder to glare at her. When she glared back, he looked away sheepishly and continued walking.

Clyde had already brought the wagon around the cottage and to the back of the stables. He was partially through unloading the hay when Nite joined him.

Nite and Bickum had a small stable, only big enough for the few horses they had. The breed they specialized in was Gecken horses. Geckens were a truly wonderful type of horse. They could carry and pull loads heavier than any other breeds could, which made them perfect for propelling the riverboat upstream. The temperament of the entire breed was calm and docile, something that was unusual for a creature of their size; it was common for a Billo horse to buck off and trample its rider. The only downside to Geckens was that they ate a lot, meaning it was a pain to get enough hay for them on voyages down the river.

They used to have five Geckens, but had been having to make do with four ever since Charlie died. That alone wouldn't have been bad if Marie hadn't become pregnant. Geckens, known for their unusually long gestation periods, were unbelievably lazy when carrying a child. This would be the second trip they would have to make with only three horses.

Nite found that it was quicker to unload the bales from the wagon than it was to load them. Clyde would lift them and toss them on the stable floor. She would then grab the ba;es and climb the ladder to the hayloft, where she deposited them for safe-keeping. It was tough work, but Nite found that it was much easier to do because she was working in the shade.

When they were done, Nite shook Clyde's hand. "I appreciate you coming all the way out here to help us. Thank you."

He shrugged. "No problem. It's ma' job ta help out."

"Don't ever let Xander overwork you." She gave him a handful of coins, probably more than she should have.

His eyes went wide when he looked at the money- enough to buy himself a full meal at the tavern- and nodded graciously to her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She walked him to the front of the wagon and waited for him to get on. "Have a good day!"

He gave her a wave before driving off.

She watched him until he disappeared behind a hill. Brushing the stray hay off of her hands, she turned to the pasture, where the horses were grazing in the distance. She was glad to see them prancing around and enjoying themselves. Within a couple of days, they would be put to work.

Nite looked one last time at the horses before heading back into the house. She squinted up at the sky on her way back, sighing when she realized it was around one o'clock in the afternoon. The sun was at its strongest, blasting the expansive land and sending heat waves rippling through the grassy hills.

The inside of the cottage was better, not necessarily cool but thankfully not too hot. Bickum had opened all the windows, so a gentle breeze slowly moved its way through and sunlight illuminated the interior.

Bickum, who was sitting in a chair next to the table, looked up at her. "Is all the hay unloaded?" He was wearing his glasses and they sat perched on the tip of his pointed nose.

"No," Nite sighed, laying down on her bed. "I left Clyde alone to do all the work so I could come in here and lay down."

"Xander was right. You are too sassy for your own good."

She rolled her eyes. "Wasn't it also Xander who tried to convince you that hay wasn't flammable and then promptly burnt down half of his stables? I wouldn't put too much faith in what he says."

"Everyone goes a little crazy in their old age."

"Didn't that happen fifteen years ago?"

Bickum raised his eyes towards the ceiling and sighed. "Raise a child, they said. It'll be fun, they said."

Nite laughed at his exasperated behavior. "You complain too much when you're tired. It's time for you to take a nap." She pointed towards his bed. "You. Nap. Now."

"Yes, Mother." He stood up, bones creaking, and wobbled over to his bed. He gingerly sat down on and laid back. "What are you going to do?"

"I think I'll read. Tomorrow, all the hay and other supplies will need to be loaded onto the boat, which means I'm not going to have much time for anything else. Besides, I haven't had much time lately to do so."

"Good choice," Bickum nodded approvingly. "Good choice indeed." He closed his eyes.

With Bickum laying down in bed, eyes closed, and breathing peacefully, Nite could finally let herself relax. She got up from bed and walked over to their bookshelf, trying to walk as quietly as possible.

She and Bickum were poor, no doubt about it; during winter months when travel was slow, they did what they could to scrape by. Sometimes they would have to go days without food. Despite that, the one thing Bickum would splurge on was books. Their bookshelf took up almost an entire wall, stretching from floor to ceiling. Nite grew up on the musty, leather bound stories. It was with them that Bickum taught her to read and to write, a fact that contributed to her more formal diction. Whereas most of the villagers could hardly write their own name, Nite could write a book if it so pleased her.

The book she was currently on, one that she had read many times before, was a history of the Andolanion people. The book, entitled The Rise and Fall of the Andolanion Peoples, focused on the little-known origins of the race of people and the very publicized extinction of them. She had already read through the history of people and was just getting to the part that broke her heart every time: the mass genocide.

The Andolanions were an ethnic group that used to inhabit the southwestern tip of Dahlara, the place Nite currently lived. Almost six decades ago, the entire race was nearly wiped out when Dahlara invaded as part of its imperial conquest campaign. The peaceful Andolanions were no match for the Dahlarians, who came barging in with their unstoppable guns and superior military tactics.

After the entire race was pushed to the brink of extinction, the survivors were left too weak to rebel against their new overlord. Nonetheless, Emperor Claudis II- a man who ruled only a small kingdom, but had a massive ego- banned their religion and all forms of worship they had practiced for centuries. Anybody caught worshiping Andolanion gods was thrown in prison for crimes against the Dahlarian gods. And then, with the land devoid of any inhabitants, the emperor began cutting down the once mighty jungles and stripping away all its natural resources.

The only piece of jungle spared was at the very tip of the land, the part bordering the sea. It was one of the most sacred places to the Andolanions, as many of their myths and legends took place in the area, from the Lost City of Kathara to the Cave of the Forgotten Land. Emperor Claudis II, who was undoubtedly a terrible ruler, only spared the land because he was facing immense backlash from his own people. It was declared a protected land and citizens were barred from trespassing in the area. It was an apology that was much too little, much too late.

Nite was yanked from her book, just as she was reaching the Andolanion Insurgence of Year 723, when there came a knock from the door. She looked briefly out the window to her left, surprised to see that the sun was level with the house. Afternoon had flown by unbelievably fast.

As she walked to the door, she glanced over at Bickum. He was still asleep, but seemed restless; he would most likely wake up soon. At least he had been able to sleep for a few hours.

Nite opened the door and smiled when she saw her visitor. It was Mana, one of the local village girls. She was around thirteen and was incredibly sweet, though oftentimes dull. She was carrying today with her two wicker baskets.

"Hello, Mana!" Nite greeted her amicably. "What's wrong?"

Mana seemed flustered and was fidgeting excessively. "It's Mono!" she blurted, referring to her dog. She set down one of her baskets and lifted the other one up. Pulling back the blanket that covered the top of it, she revealed that the tiny mutt was inside.

"Hi, Mono!" Nite leaned over the basket and stuck her finger out for the dog, who licked it and happily wagged her tail. She looked up at Mana, trying to figure why she was so worried. "What's wrong? She doesn't seem sick or hurt."

"She won't move!" the girl blurted. She began nervously stroking the mangy dog on the head. "She just lays 'round and won't move!"

"Let's see what's wrong." Nite picked the dog up and held her in the air. She inspected her from all angles. Everything appeared fine, though Mono had put on weight in her stomach area. She was plump and bloated, though still happy and eager as always.

"What's wrong with her?" Mana continued to fidget.

Nite set her down on the ground and watched her waddle around. Mono circled around her feet, barely reaching her mid-calf. "Your dog is pregnant."