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The other family sharing the compartment was also a fairly young couple. They had one small female child, and appeared to be much more settled, having already lived in the longhouse for a considerable amount of time.

The two families, as were all the families living within the longhouse, were of Ayenwatha’s own clan. His was the clan symbolized by the strange, predatory forest cat, whose fascinating likeness was proudly displayed over the longhouse’s entrances.

Janus had been as intrigued as he was daunted by the image that he had seen rendered upon the elm-bark panel. He had since learned that the six-legged, cat-like beast was called a Firaken. It was one of the most feared and respected creatures dwelling within the sprawling forests that blanketed the lands of the Five Realms.

As intrigued as he was by the utterly strange beast, the issue was similar to that of the Licanthers witnessed by his companions, the sabre-toothed beasts seen with the army beyond the forest’s edge. Janus was not altogether sure that he ever wanted to see a living and breathing Firaken, and certainly not as of just yet.

As far as he was concerned, he had been more than satisfied to experience an entirely mundane evening, wholly uneventful and spent in shelter and relative protection. The calm, uninterrupted night had finally bequeathed to him some solitary time for reflection.

Unfortunately, the tranquility had also proved quickly to be a double-edged sword. In a brief span of time, Janus had found himself nearly overwhelmed with resurgent feelings of loneliness. They had been there all the time. It was just that ever since his arrival within the new world, Janus had been kept far too busy and wary to dwell upon his own inner thoughts for very long. In light of the wrenching sorrows that had continually been tearing at him from within, the pressures and stresses of the unexpected foray into the new world had actually turned out to be a bit of a blessing.

Wounds were opened anew in the silence as Janus slowly succumbed to the onerous weight of his deeply abiding sorrows and fears. His mind drifted to darker places as he thought of the cold and murky road that he had taken ever since his father had so suddenly passed away, into the depths of the unknown. Janus had walked along that icy road shrouded with a stark sense of futility and helplessness, both of which had swiftly taken root and ripened within him.

The shock and anguish had brought the full weight of many other previous sorrows around to bear, forming them all into a bludgeoning amalgam of uncertainty and heartache. Having coalesced so many other older sorrows and fears into one thunderous blow, the nightmare had changed everything about Janus’ world. It had tipped him over the edge, shaken his ability to cope, and had shaped and tinted every last perspective of his ever since.

Not even a change of entire worlds could alter it. No matter what emergency might distract him, the wellsprings of sorrow would simply lay in wait to surface again at the nearest opportunity.

He knew all of that for certain, as he felt the weight of it all pressing upon him again, encompassing him with its gray and dampening malaise.

The uglier truth was that this new world had merely served to increase the strains and worries piling up further upon his sorely burdened spirit.

A part of Janus was frightened by the increasing dilemmas that he and his companions were being forced to face. Though he fully recognized the inherently good nature of the people of the Five Realms, he knew that he was still within an unfamiliar world fraught with unknown and terrible dangers.

His mind also wandered back to the deeply troubling thoughts of how, or even if, he would ever get back to the world from which he had come. His mother and sister were now beyond the reach of time and space, effectively as separated from Janus as he was from his deceased father. That thought was enough to shake him to the very core, and he knew that he had to do everything that he could to stop his mind from venturing down that hazardous path.

There was no longer any question of the reality of his new existence. As much as he wished that it were otherwise, it was not a matter of simply needing to wake up from the depths of a very bad, lucid dream.

He would have to come to terms with everything, but a certain irony was also haunting him now.

Janus had always been deeply bothered with the fundamental nature of the world that he had come from. In truth, he often loathed it passionately, with all of its attendant sorrows and tragedies that seemed to rain down so indiscriminately upon its hapless occupants. He had often wished with all his heart that he could somehow find his way to a fresh chance in a brand new world. Now, when he actually had such a chance right before him, the idea was not nearly as attractive as it had been before.

Then again, the fundamental nature of the world that he now found himself in was not really any different from that of his previous one. It was one of the main areas in which this world was much the same as his former one.

Death still reigned with ultimate dominion over all forms of life, the gaping, abyssal maw where all roads of life converged. Sorrow, fear, and grave danger still plagued human life with a relentless, and pitiless, onslaught. The walk to the village with Ayenwatha had made that abundantly clear, as the current plight of the tribal people had been revealed during the conversations that had taken place along the route.

Janus breathed deeply, suddenly catching himself with every last vestige of willpower as he felt his spirit sinking even lower. His spirit already dense and heavy, he knew that he could not weigh himself down much further. The sheer force of negative thoughts was threatening once again to get the best of him, taking him to the threshold of hopelessness.

Quietly, Janus willed himself to action, rousing himself and crawling carefully over the sleeping form of Antonio. He delicately made his way over to the edge of the platform, swung down over the side, and set his feet down onto the hard dirt floor.

Janus paused a few moments in the darkness to stretch his limbs, hearing a couple of faint cracks as his joints and vertebrae responded to the pressure. He listened to the rhythmic breathing of his companions, both those just behind him as well as those on the sleeping platform directly across the cold hearth, on the other side of the chamber.

Taking ginger steps so as not to disturb anyone, he moved slowly across the dirt floor. One by one, he passed through the openings in the walls separating the chambers in the extended sequence of living compartments.

He felt other eyes fall upon him in the darkness, coming from either side, and he heard the sounds of bodies shifting on the bark-panel sleeping platforms. Yet nobody spoke to him, or otherwise moved to halt his progress, as he kept his attention fixed squarely ahead. He concentrated on keeping his step light, though his short, careful strides resulted in many shuffles on the earthen surface underfoot.

Though the litany of similarly arrayed chambers seemed to be endless, he finally crossed through the storage vestibule that marked the culmination of the longhouse structure. Janus pushed aside the hide covering draped over the entryway, and emerged into the open night air.

The air that washed over Janus was refreshingly cool and crisp. It was an instant salve to his body, bringing a welcome relief from the cramped conditions, low circulation, and pungent environment of the chambers; not to mention the collective body heat of the longhouse’s numerous occupants.

The night seemed to be lingering idly at the boundary to dawn, passively awaiting the first rays of the new sun to finally drive it away. There was a very faint lightening to the blue-black canopy on the far edge of the horizon, visible from the favorable vantage afforded by the hill-top village.