Once the Woogs had returned to their village, Jack and Kleo made love. Afterward, Jack fell into a dreamless sleep, waking with the rising sun and Kleo’s soft snores. Slipping out of the tent, he took a deep breath and stretched in the warmth of the morning sun.

  They had wrapped the leftover fish in cloth and hung it from a tree to keep scavengers at bay. Jack had eaten a small portion while sitting on the log, where he had failed to catch fish by singing. Though tempted to try again, he decided against it, not wanting to disturb Kleo’s sleep or risk further embarrassment.

  Kleo rose about an hour later, looking delightfully disheveled. Jack thought she was the most beautiful mess he had ever seen.

  “What?” Kleo said, noticing his gaze as she patted down her rumpled clothes and untangled her wild hair.

  “What were you doing last night?” Jack asked, his tone full of mock innocence.

  “Nothing memorable.”

  “Ouch,” Jack said, pressing a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

  Kleo laughed and hugged him.

  “I must be a sight. Do I frighten you, husband?”

  Jack shook his head, his smile softening.

  “Sometimes, maybe. But not this morning. The morning is beautiful, and so are you.”

  He handed her a small portion of fish, still warm from the fire.

  “Breakfast. You eat while I break down the camp, and then we can head to the Woog village.”

  Sensing Jack’s excitement, Kleo nodded and eagerly ate the fish, savoring each bite. After a good night's sleep, she felt refreshed, and the crisp morning air and the glimmering river felt alive with the promise of a new day.

  When they arrived, the village buzzed with life. The cobbled paths were lined with vibrant greenery, and colorful banners swayed in the gentle breeze. Woogs bustled about their morning tasks, pausing to offer each other cheerful greetings. The air, fresh with scents of tilled earth, mingled with the sweet aroma of baked goods.

  Chief Harold spotted them from across the way and bellowed a hearty “Hello!” as he waved them forward. With a grin, he called to another Woog, giving animated instructions to prepare a small rock hut for their stay.

  The hut was modest, and its construction was practical but charming. Though small for humans, it was cozy. The modest bed, just large enough for two humans, sat tucked into a corner, while two oversized chairs—crafted for lounging Woogs—occupied the other corner. A tiny table stood nearby, and given its size, it was better suited for holding belongings than dining.

  “It’s lovely,” Kleo said, giving the chieftain a genuine smile.

  Rhonda, the Woog assisting the chieftain, raised an eyebrow and smirked.

  “Sure, if you don’t give yourself a concussion when you stand up. And the bed? Sturdy, I guess, but don’t get too… vigorous. Unless you’re okay with waking the whole village.”

  Kleo and Jack both flushed.

  “Rhonda!” the chieftain chided, his tone exasperated but familiar. “Let’s ensure they have a comfortable stay. See to it that they have all the necessities.”

  “Sure thing,” Rhonda replied, waddling off with a mischievous grin.

  The chieftain sighed and turned back to them, his expression apologetic.

  “Rhonda can be…a lot. Anyway, I’ll leave you to settle in. When you’re ready, find me. I’m very interested in learning more about you both, and I’m sure everyone in the village is eager to tell you about our quaint little community.”

  With that, he gave a slight bow and left. Moments later, they heard him scolding Rhonda outside, her laughter echoing through the village.

  Kleo giggled and turned to Jack, who shrugged.

  “Seems workable,” he said, glancing around. “The table’s a bit small. Maybe we sit on our knees if we eat here?”

  “That’ll work,” Kleo said, nodding. “Let’s unpack what we need, and I’ll change my pants before we head out to meet everyone.”

  “Sounds good,” Jack said, pausing with a thoughtful look. “After lunch, we can head back to the river for a swim. I wouldn’t mind cleaning up a bit. And honestly, we both smell like fish.”

  Kleo wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, not my favorite.”

  Jack chuckled but then grew more serious.

  “Also, I want to talk to you about something.”

  Kleo studied his face, sensing the weight behind his words.

  “Okay. We can talk about it now if you want.”

  Jack shook his head and gave her a soft smile.

  “No, it can wait. Let’s get set up and see all our new friends first.”

  Kleo nodded, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as they set about making the little hut their temporary home.

  As they wandered into the village. Jack couldn’t help but notice the similarities to Cabal, albeit on a much smaller and more intimate scale. Familiar sights abounded. Villagers repairing tools. Woog's trading goods and exchanging cheerful banter punctuated by the occasional spirited disagreement.

  It wasn't long before a group of young Woog girls gathered around Kleo, urging her to join them in gathering treats from the woods around the village. She looked to Jack as she was whisked away, leaving him behind to fend for himself. With nothing pressing to occupy him, Jack found a smooth stone near the village center and sat, savoring the warmth of the mid-morning sun on his face.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Before long, Chief Harold approached, carrying a wooden cup filled with a steaming brew. The rich, earthy aroma wafted toward Jack as the older Woog settled onto a low stool built with Woog proportions in mind. Harold took a slow sip before glancing at Jack, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “You’ve traveled far from home,” Harold began, his tone conversational. “Humans are always on the move, always building, expanding. I can’t imagine living in one of your massive cities. What was it like to live in Cabal?”

  Jack tilted his head, considering. “Cabal is... alive. Busy. Chaotic. You can find anything you need there, but it comes with noise, crowds, and trash—lots of trash. People packed together in such a tight space bring many problems.”

  Harold nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve only heard stories, but that aligns with my knowledge. For us Woogs, smaller is better. We keep our villages limited in size—sustainable—quality of life matters.

  The chieftain shifted, gesturing broadly to the horizon. “My brother leads the Ulgan clan northeast of here. Perhaps you’ll pass their village on your way to Ilimar. They’d welcome you, much like we have. The Ulgans are good folk—simple, happy, and prosperous, much like us.”

  “What about other clans?” Jack asked, genuinely curious.

  “Oh, there are many: Ilsar, Ilson, Elfar—just to name a few. Each has its character. Though we share roots, the differences are what make each clan special. Take my son, Barry, for example. He’s first in line to lead clan Staymar, far to the north where the hills rise into mountains.”

  Jack noticed a wistful look pass over Harold’s face as he continued.

  “He fell in love with Mildred, the daughter of Chief Larry. They’ve children now—children I’ve yet to meet. My wife and I were heartbroken when he left, but love is a path, Jack. We must follow where the heart leads.”

  Jack gave a sympathetic nod, imagining the sacrifice it must have taken to see their son go.

  “That sounds tough. Do you think you’ll visit?”

  Harold smiled faintly.

  “One day. Perhaps my last journey will be to see and know them before my time comes. Until then, the village keeps me busy enough.”

  “You’ve got a good thing here,” Jack said, his voice sincere.

  Harold gave him a warm smile.

  “Thank you, Jack. That means a lot. We’re not perfect, but we’ve learned to thrive with what we have. And now, with you and Miss Kleo here, we’ve enjoyed sharing it with two extraordinary people.”

  Jack laughed softly. “Not sure how extraordinary we are, but... thank you.”

  The Chief paused, weighing his following words carefully.

  "Kleo is more than she seems. Quite extraordinary, something you'll no doubt discover during your life together. As for yourself, you'll find you're capable of remarkable things, things beyond your imagination. And if my instincts about Kleo are right, you'll have plenty of opportunities to prove to yourself and her that you are anything but ordinary."

  Not knowing what to say, Jack remained quiet and thoughtful. The two sat in companionable silence as the sounds of village life continued around them.

  One word drifted through Jack’s mind. Extraordinary. Jack couldn’t wait any longer.

  He excused himself and returned to the hut.

  An odd energy buzzed in his core. He felt the urgent need to discuss it with Kleo, but she remained out with the Woog girls, foraging for nuts and berries. Until she returned, he would keep to the privacy of the hut, hoping to explore this strange sensation and understand its nature.

  He sat at the small table, his legs awkwardly crammed under it. The furniture, made for Woogs, felt comically undersized, and he couldn’t help but think he must look like a giant attending a child’s tea party. He barely noticed his discomfort. His mind was elsewhere, focused inward on the small, swirling glob of energy.

  The sensation had awakened during his encounter with the Whispering Secret. At first, it had been faint—a subtle warmth—but it had grown, stretching and expanding like a cat waking from a long nap.

  Jack had mentioned it to Kleo, brushing it off as some residual effect of the strange hive-mind entity’s presence. But now he knew better. The feeling lingered, a steady pulse that ebbed and flowed with his emotions, especially when Kleo was near. He realized it was an effect of the binding ritual, growing stronger as their bond deepened.

  He called it mana. The word carried a mystique he’d heard whispered in the back alleys of Cabal. There, tales of mystics and fortune-tellers were as common as gutter rats. Jack had never put much faith in fortune tellers—he already knew his future was a grim cycle of survival on the streets of Cabal. But now, sitting here with this vibrant force inside him, he wondered if the mystics had known more than he’d given them credit for.

  Jack closed his eyes, concentrating. The energy felt slippery, alive, almost playful. He worked slowly, shaping it, coaxing it into a sphere. At first, it resisted, darting away from his mental grasp like an unruly child. But as his breathing steadied and his focus sharpened, the energy began to respond, bending to his will.

  A faint spark flared above the table, flickering to life before vanishing. His heart raced. I did that, he thought, a grin spreading across his face. Fueled by newfound confidence, he tried again. Within moments, a small orb of light shimmered into existence. Jack stared at it in awe, holding it steady in the air before him. He began experimenting with movement, sending the ball darting left and right and finally calling it back to hover in his open palm.

  He was so engrossed that he didn’t hear Kleo enter the room.

  “What is that?” she asked, her tone calm but laced with caution.

  Jack flinched, closing his hand to absorb the energy back into himself.

  “What’s what?” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  Kleo folded her arms, one eyebrow arching.

  “I thought I saw something when I came in,” she said, her voice dripping with mock disinterest. “Must’ve been a trick of the light.”

  The way she emphasized "light" made Jack wince. She wasn’t fooled.

  He broke into a sheepish grin, unable to contain his excitement.

  Leaping to his feet, he knocked over the chair in his haste.

  “I can make a ball of light with my mind!” he exclaimed, conjuring the orb again and sending it zipping around the room.

  “Look at this!”

  The glowing sphere darted in circles around Kleo, then modulated up and down before stopping, hovering inches from her face.

  Kleo’s eyes widened. “Jack… that’s incredible.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Jack said, his chest puffed with pride.

  She reached out, her fingertip brushing the orb’s surface. The light flared bright when she made contact, exploding with a sharp crack and throwing Jack backward into a shelf of pottery. Bowls and cups tumbled to the floor with a cacophony of shattering clay.

  “Jack!” Kleo exclaimed, rushing over.

  From the doorway, Rhonda appeared, hands on her hips as she surveyed the mess. “What in hell’s muff is going on in here?”

  Kleo straightened, regaining her composure. “Jack was talking back to me, so I put him in his place.”

  Rhonda raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack, sprawled on the floor, groaning. She nodded approvingly.

  “Good. Make sure he cleans that up—I’ve got enough to do around here.”

  As Rhonda left, Kleo burst into laughter, and Jack, still lying amidst the broken pottery, couldn’t help but join in.

  “Oh, Goddess,” Kleo said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “Jack, you can use magic. That’s amazing.”

  “Pretty awesome, right?” Jack said, grinning through the ache in his back.

  Kleo’s expression grew serious. “It is amazing. But you need to be careful. Before you try anything else, we need to talk. I’ll give you some guidance—and set a few ground rules. I don’t want you turning yourself—or anyone else—into a frog.”

  Jack groaned. “Rules already? You’re ruining my fun.”

  “Fun can wait,” Kleo said, smirking. “We’ll talk after dinner. For now, promise me you won’t try anything. Not even your cute little ball of light.”

  Jack sighed, the deflated look on his face making Kleo laugh again.

  “Fine. I promise,” he muttered.

  As Kleo turned to leave, Jack couldn’t resist conjuring a tiny spark behind her back. It winked out as quickly as it appeared, but his grin remained, knowing he was only scratching the surface of his new potential.