Jhadin

Prolog -------- Mia sat next to her daughter who was currently playing in a small pen made for children her age. Little Rose nibbled at the ear of the small monkey toy her father gifted her right after she was born. Some cute noises escaped the girl who was oblivious to her mothers inner torment. She missed Ethan and everything felt so alien to her. They had been relocated again – back into the states - after the mess in Romania. The small house was different to the old one but it was the interior that brought back all of the memories. Mia couldn’t throw anything away so she kept most of the things even if they had advised her to let go and move forward. A few weeks. It had only been a few damn weeks after that incident and definitely not enough time to mourn his death. How could she move on when Chris and the others were still so tight-lipped about everything that had happened in the village? She had a right to know why her husband was gone. She had been so sure

Prolog: Lionel POV Not a single cloud moved across the sky on this hot morning. Unrelented and utterly unaffected by the gentle breeze in the air the sun blazed glaringly. Lionel was all the more grateful for the shadows that the trees around him cast as he slowly hauled in the line of the fishing rod with a soft curse on his lips. The fish resisted vehemently against being pulled out of the water, which rippled around his legs with every movement his prey made. Barefoot he tried to get enough footing on the bottom of the lake. In the bucket on the shore next to his boots were already some smaller sea creatures that would certainly be enough to supply the village for the day but he was too ambitious to give up now. He probably would have given everything to fight to survive too but the rod was old and worn out and if the line broke now, well, he didn't have the material to repair it. Spider silk was really hard to get and the next caravan of merchants was coming in two day at

Keine einzige Wolke schob sich an diesem heißen Vormittag über den Himmel. Unnachgiebig und absolut unbeeinflusst von der seichten Brise in der Luft strahlte die Sonne grell ihre Hitze aus. Umso dankbarer war Lionel über den Schatten, den die Bäume um ihn herum warfen, während er mit seinem leisen Fluch auf den Lippen die Schnur der Angel langsam einholte. Der Fisch sträubte sich vehement dagegen aus dem Wasser gezogen zu werden, welches sich mit jeder Bewegung seiner Beute um seine Beine kräuselte. Barfuß versuchte er auf dem Seeboden genügend Halt zu bekommen. In dem Eimer, der am Ufer neben seinen Stiefeln stand, befanden sich schon einige kleinere Meerestiere, die sicherlich für den heutigen Tag ausreichen würden um das Dorf zu versorgen, aber er war zu ehrgeizig um jetzt aufzugeben. „Na komm schon!“, stieß er konzentriert aus. Vermutlich hätte auch er alles gegeben um ums Überleben zu kämpfen, aber die Angel war alt und abgenutzt und wenn die Schnur jetzt riss, bedeutete das,