When Kallus woke up, he saw a pair of shiny blue eyes staring at him. For a moment he thought they were Lanara's eyes, but these ones were gentle and carried a hint of sorrow. 

"Calda?" Kallus touched the back of his head, feeling his matted blond hair now soaked with blood. As the world spun into focus, he sat up. In Calda's hand was a glass vial, and her graceful arm reached out as she offered it to him.

"For the pain," she said.

Kallus took the vial and drank it without hesitation. "You have a little potion for everything, don't you?"

"Not everything," she said, checking the scabbed wound on his head. "I would patch you up, but they took my bandages. Used them as kindling. They took all my firewood, too. I suppose I'm just glad that they don't understand all of my medicines and herbs, otherwise I probably would have passed out by now. And you would have bled much more if I hadn't stopped it."

Kallus struggled to recall what happened. He remembered standing outside this room before falling unconscious. From what Calda was saying, there were intruders here, people who were not guests yet still insisted on taking what Calda had. 

"How many are there?" he rasped. 

"Just the two," she said. "They showed up at my door a few days ago, a married couple from the southlands. Said they were sick and needed medicine, warmth. I pitied them, let them into my home. The next thing I know, I'm locked in here..." Calda broke into tears and collapsed into Kallus' shoulder. "I shouldn't have let them in!" 

"It's alright now," Kallus soothed her, unsure of what else to say. Looking around, he saw rows of broken jars and vials. The damage that these intruders had done. When Calda showed her face again, Kallus saw just how starved she was. Shadows had gathered around her eyes, her cheeks were taut and thin. A few days, she had said. That was a long time to go without food, to not feel any warmth. 

"At least you've been resourceful," he said, trying to focus on the good of the situation instead of the bad. Her jars and pantry may have been devastated, but Calda knew how to keep a body running. She had even kept him from bleeding profusely—with what little she had. "Thank you, Calda. I suppose this means I owe you my life now."

"Nonsense, it would take a lot more to kill you."

"I'm not so certain of that," he said, brushing his head wound. 

 It was the least he could do to let Calda curl into him, take in his body heat. She laid so frigid against him. He allowed his arms to come around her until she stopped shivering. It was both frightening and comforting to hold Calda, to let her lay her head on his chest. Sitting there, he imagined his life with her beside him— the House they might have formed together. Then he swallowed, and did his best to keep his mind off it. 

There was little to do but plan, really. Prepare for an escape. Kallus looked around for anything metal in the area, something that could conduct a Lorish rune, but he found nothing of the type; no sword, no bar of some kind. With that option ruled out, he decided to wait on his family to come and rescue him— and be ready for when they did. 

"These squatters may be violent, but I suspect they lack intelligence," Kallus said after several long minutes. 

"Intelligence?" Calda folded her brows. 

"Think about it, Calda: they locked you in your healing room, not realizing that you could survive on your...potions. And there," he pointed to the high window, "a clear exit point."

"But it's too tight," she argued. "No grown adult could fit through there. I tried."

"Which brings me to the next fortunate news: Níhilan knows we're trapped here. The fact that he's not locked in with us tells me he might have gotten away. He is small and slippery, not to mention quite tactful. He went through your window and let me in earlier."

This seemed to lighten Calda's depressed mood and send a flood of hope washing over her face. 

"So, all we need to do is wait for your son?" 

"That's right," Kallus nodded. "He wouldn't abandon us here. And hopefully, he will bring something metal."

***

The three youths crept their way toward the cottage, staying low as they rounded to the right side and peeked through the broken glass of the window. Naelen saw the scary woman sitting on Calda's couch and her giant log propped up nearby. He gasped, keeping his head down so as to not be seen. 

"We have to sneak in," he whispered to his sister as she crouched beside him. "We can't just run in there and expect to win. She's got her log."

"That is a big log," Lila agreed. "She's expecting someone to confront her, obviously. So..." she looked around, "any other entry points?"

"Um...there's supposed to be a small window in the back," he said, gesturing. "Follow me."

Damien and Lila followed him to the back and saw the high window he had described. 

"Alright, little brother, this is all you," Lila said while giving him a boost. 

"Hold on," Naelen paused, "could I borrow your sword, Damien, just in case?"

Damien handed over his small weapon. "Be careful in there, Naelen."

"Oh look, he's worried about me." Naelen grinned, then used his sister's sturdy hands to spring up to the window. He grabbed the tiny ledge with both arms, using his chin to brace the sword, and pulled himself up to the window. The latch gave under a few forceful tugs and swung outward, then he slipped through the tight opening and landed silently inside Calda's healing room. 

He saw his father laying on the floor beside Calda, their bodies wrapped in each other to stay warm. They both looked half-dead, but he could tell by their moving chests that they were still alive. 

"Dad?" Naelen whispered, shaking Kallus' shoulder. His father's eyes opened and brightened. Kallus sat up slowly, minding the wound on the back of his head. A soft tear came to his eye. 

"You brought a sword." Kallus smiled with approval, then glanced up at the window. "I knew you could fit through there, Níhilan. You've done well."

Naelen curled into his father, squeezed him hard. "Are you alright? For moment I thought..."

"I'll survive," Kallus said. "Calda did what she could for me, we were just biding our time."

"That scary woman is posted out there," Naelen reported. "She has her big stick handy, the one she bashed you with."

"Right." Kallus rose to his feet and reached out his arm. "May I use your tiny sword? I know how to get us out of here, I just need something metal."

Naelen handed the sword over without question and watched as his father centered the blade between his eyes. 

A cold, swirling wind picked up, not from outside but right there in the middle of the room. It was unreal, it was like watching a mage conjure a twister from thin air. The wind grew heavy, and Kallus grunted as the sword glowed with magic. The metal gave off an orange color, and within the blade itself, Naelen saw a marking being etched into it by pure force of will. 

A rune, he realized. Until now, he had never seen a Lor elf actually create a rune. He knew about them, from tales of great battles and their useful, everyday properties, but creating a rune was different. It was extremely difficult to focus that kind of power, let alone use it once it was made. But Kallus managed to do both. He sealed the rune into the sword then focused it toward the door. With a powerful burst, the door exploded into pieces of wood and left a wide opening for them to step through. 

"Whoa!" Naelen marveled at his father. "Will you teach me to do that?"

"In time, son, but that's not our task right now. I need you to help Calda move, she's quite weak." 

***

Kallus left the boy to his own devices as he went through the door and faced Brisa. The woman had her log raised, but Kallus could tell she was stunned by the explosion of the door. 

"Don't come closer," Brisa threatened, readying to take a heavy swing. 

Wasting no time, Kallus focused the destruction rune again, shattering the center of the log into pieces. The woman was left with a few smaller sticks of broken wood, and she immediately dropped them. 

"Ah!" She screamed in terror and ducked behind the couch. Her hands and body shook.

"Who...who are you?"

"I am a friend of Calda," he said, still aiming the sword. "And you are trespassing. Give me your name."

"You don't need to know my name!"

"Give me your name!"

"Brisa!" she cowered. "My name is Brisa. Please...don't hurt me."

Kallus laughed at the irony. "Hurt you? I will not hurt you so long as you leave and never come back here."

"I can't leave!" she cried. "Our house...it was buried by snow. The roof caved in. We were desperate."

"That does not give you the right to trespass, to take what other people have. Look at what your desperation has wrought..." He gestured to Calda, at how faint she was. How she had to lean onto a child for support. "You made her starve, you made her cold! As her lord, I will bring justice to her."

"Lord?" Brisa gasped. Frightened, she ran and yanked open the door of the house, only to find her path blocked by Lila and Damien who guarded the outside. Brisa's eyes began to tear as she became cornered between them and Kallus. Nowhere to run. "Please!" She clasped her hands together while falling to her knees. "Please, my lord! My husband and I will leave. Show mercy!"

"Your husband is dead," Lila smirked from behind the woman.

"What?" Brisa fell apart and writhed on the floor. "You killed my sweet Brennan? How cruel you must be!"

Kallus stood over the woman and lowered his sword. "Outside, you will find two sacks of provisions," he said. "Take them, and promise me you will go to the Tribunal for your needs. You will not take from other people, only your lords. Do you heed me?"

"Yes..." Brisa panted, cowering before Kallus once again. "Yes, I heed you my lord!" Her forehead touched the frozen floor before she got up and scampered out. She pushed by Lila and Damien, gathered the two burlap sacks from the deck, and disappeared into the snow.

When the woman was gone, Lila came up to her father and embraced him. "Glad you're alright," she said, "I was worried."

Kallus gripped his daughter in return and breathed out, grateful all his children had shown to rescue him. "You said you killed the other?"

"Yes." Lila stepped back, pointing to Damien. "Rather, Damien took care of him."

Kallus looked at the boy, noticed the bloody gash on his cheek. Aside from that, Damien was visibly unharmed but Kallus sensed how shaken the boy was. He then noticed the wound bleeding from underneath Lila's coat and gestured to it. 

"You're both injured," he realized. "Come, we must get back home. Your mother must be starting to worry." He took hold of Calda, and his children followed as he led the way out, moving under the falling snow.

"Dad?" Naelen spoke up after a while, "you gave that woman all of Calda's goods. You...let her go."

"I did," Kallus nodded. "Why do I sense you're upset?"

"I'm not upset, I'm confused. Why did you let the villain win?"

"Win? I did not let her win. Her crimes were motivated by her needs, so I chose to meet her needs and thereby solved the problem."

"But she hurt you, and Calda." 

Perhaps the boy didn't understand why his father would repay such violence with such compassion. 

"If her needs were not met, son, she surely would have preyed on other people. As a lord, I strive to meet people's needs so these crimes do not happen. Brisa will struggle as a widow, so I will ensure the Tribunal watches out for her."

"Oh. Because we must give to those in need?"

"That's right."