Zam’s Prehistoric World Narrative: Zam opened his eyes and tried to sit up. His leg hurt and he had a moment of panic while he checked his arms and legs. The dream seemed so real, but a quick inventory accounted for all his parts. His eyes started to focus; there were two women standing over him. “Just stay still young man,” one of the women said, “you’ve been in a coma for over a week.” “Where’s Zan?” Zam’s voice cracked. He was thirsty. The other woman was fiddling with something around his arm and he felt something squeeze his arm then it went away. “Malice is fine, he is on Demonia Prime,” the older woman replied as she laid a hand on his forehead. “Do you know your name?” “My name is Zam. Can I have some water?” Zam croaked. The woman made an odd face that Zam couldn’t read. Zam thought she looked like she had just eaten a bug. “No, your name is Mischief.” The woman had composed herself and said calmly. ‘Is she not going to give me water until I say it,’ Zam wondered and then said, “Mischief.” The woman smiled and motioned to the other woman who held a cup to Zam’s lips and he sipped the water. “I am the Lady Serine, your grandmother,” the woman told Zam. She was smiling but Zam felt like a serpent was smiling at him right before it was ready to strike. Even groggy and half asleep, Zam knew a dangerous predator when he saw one. This person was not to be taken lightly. “I want to see Zan,” Zam demanded. “As I’ve said, Malice is on Demonia, and you won’t be going anywhere for a long time,” the woman told Zam. “We have a lot of work to do to fix my sons incompetence and turn you from a barbarian into a civilized young man worthy of the House Fox. Zam’s eyes narrowed. He understood this situation perfectly. She cared about him, no doubt, or he wouldn’t be laying in this soft bed with a healer tending him, but she was like the Crow Shaman’ that thought they knew what was best for everyone. ‘Well, thought Zam, she didn’t know who she was dealing with.’ Lady Serine had easily read the boy. His strange half-Demonia eyes had narrowed and she knew he had, in his own barbarian way, understood his situation. He would fight her as she worked to make him into a proper Lord of the House Fox. She wasn’t concerned with his mixed parentage; at this point the various species of all the worlds had inter-mixed and there were hardly any pure bloods left in any of the Great Houses. No matter, he is a handsome enough lad and will make a fine Lord Fox. Lady Serine pushed his wild hair out of his eyes. That would be the first thing she would have to fix. That hair would have to go. Zam watched as his grandmother turned to leave, “One last thing, Mischief,” she said, “I am aware of your ability to trans-jump without a generator. If you attempt to jump without someone guiding you, or without knowing which way Demonia is, you will come out of the jump floating in space.” Lady Serine turned and walked out of the room. Zam was trapped and he knew it. (page break) “But what about Zan?” the girl sitting on the barrel asked. “Ah, grand-daughter, you must be patient and save some story for tomorrow night,” the old man replied. “It’s a great story grandpa, but I know it’s all just made up,” the girl stated. “If it’s all made up, then how to do you account for that?” the girls grandpa pointed at the night sky behind her. The girl turned, saw nothing and turned back. The rocking chair was empty. “I know you just got up and hid when I turned around,” the girl laughed. She jumped off the barrel and waved at the house where she knew her grandpa was hiding. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. You tell the best stories, Grandpa Zam,” the girl skipped through the grass for home.