David hid the brass vial in his straw bed. He had to give it back to Mom eventually... but he wasn’t ready to do that yet. Outside, the air stunk like rotting corpses. Between the house and the shed, severed limbs and guts mixed with the earth where the shadow had fallen on the goblins.

  In the distance Villagers passed by, silently carrying away victims of the dreadful monster.

  Left unattended, the dead goblins could spread disease, so he looked around for a bucket and a shovel. David grabbed them from his house, then built a fire from the parts of the still-smoldering woodpile.

  He picked up a cold, slimy goblin head and torso from the dirt and tossed it on the fire. The flames flared, then dimmed, and he moved to gather the rest of the remains.

  A woman staggered past him, carrying a basket of herbs on her hip, a child tugging at her skirt. She retched from the sweet-rotten plumes of smoke and sped up her steps.

  The larger goblin parts turned black, the rendered fat sizzled and spurted greasy flames. David shoveled gore off the dirt and dumped it on the fire. It had to be done and it gave him space to think.

  The shadow that decimated the goblins and the guards was clearly some apex predator. It could have reached the shed and slaughter both him and Aura in a heartbeat… and yet, not only it didn’t kill him, but ultimately it saved him from the goblins. The timing of it all was too peculiar.

  The flames spurted, and he added a few more logs to the fire. Then he washed the bucket and the shovel and took a walk to clear his head as much as to confirm his suspicions.

  The field where the predator fought the guards was just dark, bloody mud. He walked around, searching through the grass, finding barely a few droplets of black ichor here and there. Perhaps the predator monster was more fragile than it looked, but it didn’t seem that way. It made him wonder why it had left the fight despite having a clear advantage.

  When the sky started turning yellow again, he went home again. Dad was back but didn't seem to be in the mood for talking. Dad helped Mom out of the shed and gestured at David to follow them.

  David’s mom and dad had strength rooted in a lifetime of hardships. A respected blacksmith who knew his way around weapons and an alchemist whose hidden power defied all reason. Though each had their flaws and faults, David envied them. He walked up to Mom’s other side and put her arm over his shoulder.

  They walked that way to the square. The village was almost quiet, carrying the soft murmur of sobs, chanting and the crackle of a communal pyre. People stood in a circle around the square, surrounding the fire and the makeshift altar built under the totem.

  Mom stared at the altar and the tokens of the fallen laying on it: a bent sword, a splintered shield, a sunflower. Her arm trembled over his shoulders.

  Eventually, Chief Brenn walked into the middle of the square and said, “We’ve lost much. Too much.” His arm had been severed at the elbow. Just looking at the bloody bandages on the stump made David wince. “But we’re still here, thanks to the heroic sacrifice of those who gave their lives.”

  The crowd murmured in agreement, but it seemed half hearted.

  Darryl stepped up beside Brenn. “If we just roll over and die, it would make those bastards too happy for my liking.” He paused a few seconds. “So let me address what everyone is thinking: We have a new monster in the forest. Worse than that, it’s a unique, intelligent creature.”

  A few people gasped; a few others murmured.

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  “Yes, yes, it's true.” He silenced them with his hands. “We'll call for reinforcements, but just in case, we’re pausing all development work until the monster is gone. Brenn and I will figure out who is doing what, and we’ll have a plan by tomorrow morning. As for those of you who just moved here recently: welcome to the frontier.”

  David glanced down at his hands. They were dirty with soot and gore but not bruised and calloused like those of the other men. Most of them were at least twice his age, but even compared to kids, he was lagging in contributions.

  The villagers started cleaning up and clearing out. David and his family trudged home in the last remnants of golden light. Mom felt well enough to walk on her own next to Dad. David trailed behind, his mind racing.

  “I was wondering, Dad...” David swallowed. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. “Can you… teach me? You know, how to fight?”

  Dad didn’t turn around. “Why?”

  Of all the things Dad could say, David hadn’t expected such an obvious question. “Because I… I want to help.”

  “Help? With what?” Dad snorted a laugh. “You can barely deliver tools on a good day.”

  David clenched his fists by his sides. “But I can do more! I’ll grow healthier and work hard. I don’t want to be scared anymore!”

  “A sword doesn’t make you less scared. Even if you could swing it.”

  David opened his mouth but found nothing to say. He was grown up. Not every kid his age was fighting, but all of them were at least learning to. He looked at his Mom, hoping she’d turn around and say something, but she just glanced at him and offered a bloody half smile.

  David jogged up and circled around them. “Can I at least learn magic, then?”

  Dad sighed. “I know you mean well. I do. But this isn’t the time. Alchemy is just as bad, if not worse than fighting.”

  David tugged at his mom's sleeve.

  “Maybe he needs just a little bit,” she said, “of something so he doesn’t feel so helpless. I could teach him safe—”

  “No.” Dad said flatly.

  “Why are you so against it?” Mom asked.

  Dad paused and looked at her. “Can you seriously ask that after what we just went through? You’re smarter than this, Aura.”

  David had rarely, if ever, heard his dad talk to his mom in such a condescending way. He wanted to defend her, but knew that would only make matters worse. Mom turned red and tears welled in her eyes, but Dad was unmoved. He walked on ahead of them, and after a few deep breaths, Mom followed.

  David wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but definitely not that. Well, if Dad wanted to belittle him like that, he would show him. He would show everyone.

  When they got home, they went to bed and slept through the rest of the afternoon all the way until morning.

  The next day, the roads of Grainwick were loud with hammers striking wood and groans of people working despite their wounds and bruises but felt emptier for the lack of usual conversations.

  With Dad busy hauling new firewood, David found Mom sitting in the dappled sunlight under an oak tree behind the shed. Her shoulders were slouched, and she was fidgeting with a black notebook, open but empty, its pages fluttering slightly in the breeze. A pencil rested in the groove between the pages

  David walked slowly toward her, holding the vial in his clenched fist, and touched her shoulder.

  Mom startled “You scared me!” She wiped her cheeks, though David hadn’t seen any tears there, and forced a smile. “What is it? Shouldn’t you be helping your father?”

  David shuffled his feet, feigning awkwardness. “I, um… I found this. I thought you’d want it back.” He held out the vial and stared at the ground. The glass caught the sunlight. The ice and fire still danced inside, as if no time had passed for them at all.

  Mom’s eyes widened and she extended a hand to take it. “The frostfire.” She turned it over in her trembling fingers. “It survived my failure.”

  “Dad didn’t care about it., so I—I was keeping it safe.” He continued to stare at the ground. “Your magic... was amazing. You must be the best alchemist ever!”

  The words hit their mark. A faint blush crept into Mom’s cheeks “You saw?”

  “I snuck under the workbench.” His ears started getting hot. “It was so beautiful, I want to do that too. “Can you… teach me? Just a little. I want to be like you, strong and smart.”

  Mom looked at him, then glanced at the vial. “Sweetie, I don’t think that’s—”

  “Please? I’ll be careful. I promise. I was so scared!” He bent down and hugged her. “Dad doesn’t understand like you do.”

  His mom rocked him gently. “Your father might not like it.”

  She hugged him silently for a minute, and then continued. “Just… some basics. And only while Dad isn’t around.”

  David tore away from her. He wanted to scream with joy and dance around the yard, but he had to behave like he was grown up enough to learn magic. “Thank you, Mom! I’ll be really good, I promise!”

  “You’d better be!” she said with a wry smile. She began to outline a simple lesson plan. For the first time since the ritual, she looked excited. David could barely wait to start.