It had been a long walk from her house to the farm but it was something that the hard-working Patrice Baldwin did without complaint. Days spent on the farm was daily life for her now that her beloved husband passed away in the war. Her thoughts often turned to him, and the hope that his death had been quick and as pain-free as the world could manage for him.

Turning from the gravel road, Patrice began walking up the long path to the farmhouse. She'd say good morning to Mavis and then continue to search for Albert. He'd always have something for her to do before starting her usual job of picking fruit.

Gone were the days where she'd maintain the home while Eddie was at work. Her hopes and dreams of having a family with him were gone. They'd planned to start a family when he returned.

In desperate need of money, Patrice asked around when she was in town. Mavis offered to speak with Albert, knowing that he needed more help around the farm now that the labourers were fighting the war.

Patrice's time on the farm had been reasonable. It was not easy work, but Patrice was not about to shy away from a task, especially when she needed to feed herself and pay the bills.

Sighing heavily, Patrice looked at the fields on either side of the driveway. A heavy fog coated the land. The morning was cold, just another typical November day. As the frosty wind whipped past her legs, it curled around her tired body before tousling the dirty brown hair. She'd wrangled it into a plait, the only sensible choice when she'd soon have a hat on.

Patrice wished that Albert had been a little more liberal-minded and allowed her to wear pants. Apparently, it was all the rage now. The working women of this country were daring and pushed through the expectations for them and wore pants. At first, Patrice thought it was scandalous until she tried on one of Eddie's pairs. She was quite pleased with how comfortable it was and suggested them to Albert. Patrice believed that working in the field would be done quicker if she didn't have a cumbersome skirt and all the nonsense underneath getting in the way. A heavy scowl filled Patrice's face as she rolled her eyes. Albert was stuck in his rigid ways and refused to entertain anything that would cause trouble.

Mavis was on the front deck, flicking out a tablecloth. She smiled at Patrice when she waved. As the cloth lowered, Patrice saw Albert sitting at the small iron table.

"Ah, good morning Patrice," Albert said eagerly. "Have you heard the good news?"

A puff of smoke escaped as he pulled the pipe out and set it aside. Collecting the paper, Albert showed Patrice the front page.

Two words spanned the entire page. It was a simple banner that was open to misinterpretation. If it weren't for the images of people celebrating, Patrice might have questioned it.

IT'S OVER!

Patrice stopped in front of the wooden balustrade. As she reached to grip it, paint flecks dropped, showering down to the worn floorboards.

"It's over," Patrice whispered.

Her eyes darted up to Albert, who seemed rather pleased.

"This is not a lie?"

"A lie?" he scoffed loudly. "Foolish woman, the Daily Mail never lies. The war is over. We won. Anyway, I want you to move the cows into the lower field before you start. There's too much fog to be picking fruit at the moment."

"Sure."

Patrice stepped back, giving them a dutiful smile before continuing to the shed. Moving the cows was not an easy job, but Patrice didn't mind.

Albert rose early in the day to milk them. After that, they were always eager to get into the field. Usually, Albert moved them to the lower field himself but reading the paper seemed more interesting.

Pulling the gate open, Patrice glanced around the field. She didn't know why, but it felt different today. Something wasn't right. Wary of everything, she scanned the land and saw nothing but fog in the field and trees that lined the hills.

She'd seen a few foxes over the previous months but none that were ever hungry or foolishly brave enough to attack a cow. Patrice never underestimated the power of hunger and what it could do to an animal.

Crossing the muddy land, Patrice reached the shed and pulled back the door. Cows began moving out, herded by the petite figure. Patrice tried to keep them moving in a line, but they had a mind of their own. It was of no surprise that one of the cows managed to find the wrong open gate. It was also not a surprise that Albert had left it open or not warned her. Patrice knew that she should have checked. She should know Albert by now.

Huffing her frustration, Patrice herded the last of the cows into the lower field and then went in search of the wayward one.

The cow was in a section that ran alongside the lower field, precariously close to the driveway. Patrice was grateful that the creature hadn't gone for a trot down the driveway or past the farmhouse. That would earn her a scolding from Albert, which she didn't need. Not today.

The thoughts of Eddie returned. If he'd made it to today, he would have been safe. Glumly Patrice thought that their life together was not meant to be a long one.

Pulling the heavy and reluctant cow to the side gate, Patrice hoped that the stubborn creature would continue to behave for a few more seconds. She'd have to let go of the rope to open the gate. Then Patrice would have to convince the beast that the grass in the lower field was far better than anything on this side of the fence.

Wisely, Patrice did not open the gate fully. She didn't want the others to think that it was open season for having an adventure. Pushing the cow into the field, Patrice groaned and quickly moved to shut the gate.

With a satisfied sigh, she smiled and leaned against the rail—just a moment to rest before continuing onto the field to start the back-breaking work. The smile soon faded as she realised that something was glowing.

Rising from the fence, Patrice began to walk towards it. The soft white glow was enthralling. Its beauty was incredible, and Patrice found it irresistible.

Stepping through the long grass, Patrice leaned down to pick up the small stone that shone as if it was large. When Patrice held the clear crystal, it stopped glowing. Now she could see how truly stunning it was. It was cut perfectly, smooth under her fingers. Long sides met at a sharp point but did not cut her finger when she touched it.

Before she could question how such a lovely crystal found its way to this dim little farm, the ground shook. Patrice looked around and saw a shadowy figure in the distance. Presuming that this person was the owner, Patrice called out to them. Getting no response annoyed Patrice, but obsession soon hit her and she began her pursuit.

Her thoughts about the farm or her job were gone. Patrice became consumed by the figure and the lost crystal.

"Hey," she called out.

Nothing.

The forest began to thicken, wrapping Patrice and the mysterious figure into a hidden land. The locals did not know it existed. Patrice hadn't noticed that the land changed. The crystal kept her attention on the figure that she could not catch.

Soon the heavy forest gave way to an open field. It was considerably cooler here due to the wind that gently blew. It caressed the grass, swishing the blades in a rhythmic movement that captivated Patrice. She entered the field, running her hand over the top of the blades.

As they tickled her palm, she giggled.

The figure stopped and turned. Patrice paused, finally realising that she was closer to him than she thought. Her head tilted back as she stared at the enormous man that dressed like a medieval warrior.

He'd heard a noise, drawing his swords out to defend himself against a new enemy. Wind rattled around him, flicking the battle-damaged cape. Patrice was stunned by the brilliant white eyes that searched the area. Light glinted off the long silver blades.

Cautiously, the figure watched, seeing nothing but the other realm dwellers approaching.

"Jarek," a deep voice growled.

Patrice turned to the sound of the voice, staring in awe as a new figure approached. He was just as tall and dressed like he'd been to war with the other fellow. Patrice was stunned into silence, but oddly she found that there was no fear of these giants.

"What?" the figure barked as he pulled his mask down.

The new one tilted his hand down toward Patrice, giving him a silent glare. It was then that Jarek saw the human woman standing in the field, staring at him.

"I had no idea," Jarek murmured.

Stepping closer, he lowered to kneel in front of the woman.

"Can you see me?" he asked.

Patrice was glad that the giant's voice wasn't as loud as when he was standing. It had lowered considerably, now at a level that was reasonable for a pleasant conversation.

"Yes," Patrice said as she held out the gem. "I saw this in the field, and then I saw you. I thought you might have dropped it."

Jarek stared at the crystal. It was glowing in her hand. The bright light told him that it was his stone but Jarek still couldn't believe it had fallen to the ground. Jarek dropped one of his swords so that he could pat down his armour.

The sword thumped to the field, flattening the grass under it. For a moment, Patrice looked at it. The blade was long. She figured that it would be several humans in length, much like the giants.

Hearing a chuckle, Jarek glared at Armon. He liked the vampire king, but there were times when his devious humour was frustrating to him.

"Yes," Jarek said, returning his attention to the human. "Thank you for returning it to me."

"You can't wipe her mind, Jarek. What are you going to do?" Armon asked with merciless delight.

"Ask her that she forgets us and never speaks of us again. It is all that we can do in such circumstances. You can do that for us, right?"

Jarek held out his hand, ready to take the crystal. Before Patrice could answer the giant or hand the crystal over, he went flying into the air with a large boom. The ground rattled when his body landed.

"Well, that was interesting," Armon said as he knelt next to the human. "Can I look at the crystal?"

"Sure."

Patrice held it out, the crystal sitting flat on her palm. Armon reached out. His fingers burned before he could touch it.

"It's bound to you, my dear. Unfortunately, the crystal has decided that it will not let you pass it to anyone. Ordinarily, we'd say that it's yours, but that is a stakalis and is extremely important to that brute over there."

Armon leaned down to whisper, his dashing smile shining bright. Long brown hair fell, creating a thin veil. It, like everything else on these giants, was covered in ash. The hair was grubby, not that different to her own.

"That's Jarek Saolisk, often referred to as the elf king. As for that little trinket, he needs it. If Jarek doesn't have it, he will wither and die. This is a bit of a problem, don't you agree?"

Patrice's fingers curled over the crystal that had claimed her as its owner, giving the second giant a wary nod.

"I want my crystal back." Jarek groaned as he sat up.

"Well, you have a problem. Two, actually. A human has seen us, and your crystal has bound itself to her."

The ground started to rattle again, constant heavy booms that stopped as quickly as they started. Patrice gasped as she turned. Three more giants stood behind them, looking at her with shock.

"A human has seen us," one grumbled.

"She has," Armon said as he stood.

Jarek growled as he stalked over to the human. He picked her up by the scruff, lifting her high enough that she could see the scowl on his face. Jarek was pleased that he was not thrown off his feet again. He angrily mused that it must have been punishment for trying to take the stone back.

"If she cannot give it to me, then she will have to return to the realm."

"Absolutely not." Patrice hissed. "I am not going anywhere with you. No part of this is my fault. You were the clumsy one that dropped something important to you."

"Inconsequential. I will not return to my world without it, and I will figure out how to separate it from you. I can assure you that I have no interest in taking you to the realm and do this under much duress. So, stop your ridiculousness and accept that this has to happen."

"Put me down!"

Jarek ignored the human. Leaning down, Jarek picked up his sword. The human continued to yell at him, amusing the other kings. Giving them a hard glare, Jarek sheathed the sword and carried the human through the realm gate.

He didn't know how, but one way or another, he would get his stakalis back from the absurd human.