With nothing else to do or say, Prince Damron sat down next to her and let those same feelings come pouring out. It started as a sputtering whimper at first. But as the weight of the situation slipped itself around the boy like a slithering constrictor, he too couldn’t keep the pain inside. His bawling was no less pitiful. It all was just too much and sometimes the tears need to be let out. The two cried together for the longest time, their sorrowful exclamations filling only the others ears. It all came out till eyes were red and stinging with no more drops to give. And finally, when the last of the wetness was wiped away, Hoxley looked to the prince and held her arms wide. He gratefully scooted closer on his knees and the pair embraced. Lost, hungry and hopeless, they held onto one another because they had nothing else to hold onto. They thought there was no one else in the world who might know where they were. Little did they know that an eye was upon them glaring down.

  “WHO’S making all this racket?!” A booming voice said, scaring the two. After the initial flinch, they each looked up with a hand shielding their eyes from the blinding sun overhead. In all their crying, they never heard anyone approach.

  “Bohga?!” asked Hoxley as she looked up at the shadowed form standing over them. “Bohga is that you?”

  “WHO’S over here boo-hooing outside my home?!” said the towering form staring down with its one great eye.

  “Bohga! It’s us!” said the prince. “Prince Damron and Hoxley!”

  “I’ve never made the acquaintance of a dark-skinned prince or pale skinned faun girl in my life.” Said the cyclops gruffly. “What do you want?”

  “We’ve come looking for you!” he said. “We’ve traveled a very long way to find you!”

  “What do you want me for?” asked the cyclops. “I’m very busy gathering things for my cart. I’ve no time to dole charity to strangers. Very busy indeed I am. And I’ve no use for mourners. If you’re going to cry, do it elsewhere. Especially you,” He said, pointing to Hoxley “I heard your bleat two hilly horizons away. I was about to take a different path for the day and set up camp north of here, but your noise made me curious to discover what could create such a disturbance.” Hoxley pushed herself to her feet and dusted her legs off.

  “You don’t remember us?” asked the faun. The cyclops scratched his chin and looked upon them

  “Hmmmmmm.” He said, curling his lips with thought. “No, no can’t say I’ve even met either of you in the two hundred and two years I’ve been alive.”

  “Two hundred?” asked Hoxley. “The last time you and I spoke, you said you were seven hundred and two!”

  “Seven hundred?” laughed the cyclops. “No, little faun, I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for another of my kind. I take no offense as we all do look very much alike. You should look elsewhere for your friend as I believe there are no other cyclops in this land. Yes…yes…” he scratched his chin again. “You should look elsewhere for your cyclops friend.”

  “I don’t have any other cyclops friends,” said Hoxley. “I only know you! How do you think is that I know your name if you say we’ve never met before?”

  “Hmmm. That is a good question. Perhaps you know my name from asking someone else?”

  “No, I followed some friends of mine who are witches who said they knew where to find you.”

  “I do know of the witches.” said Bohga. “They seem pleasant whenever we encounter one another. Witches are friends, indeed, indeed. If you say you are friends with witches, then perhaps you and I can be friends after all. I am still confused as to how you say we have met before. Could you tell me more about the last time we spoke to one another?”

  “We showed up at your cave, right here.” Said the prince. “You happily greeted us and took us inside and gave us dinner of spiced fish and pumpkin bread!”

  “That sounds like delightful company but I’ve never had guests within my home so you must have me confused with another cyclops who lives in a cave. Most of us prefer to live in caves, you know. The cool stone feel wonderful upon our thick skin after a long day of working in the sun. Do you have proof of some sort that might help to convince me?”

  “Wait! My shield!” exclaimed the prince. “Here! Look at this!” he offered the item for the cyclops to take. “You made this and gave it to me when we last were here!” Bohga took the item and turned it over in his hands.

  “It’s a very light shield.” The cyclops remarked as he looked it over with a critical eye. “It’s neither wood nor iron nor steel.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “No, its lyythium!” added Hoxley.

  “Lyythium, you say?” Bohga asked, still looking the shield over. “I’ve never heard of lyythium. That sounds like nonsense to me.”

  “No,” said the prince. “It’s a new material named lyythium that you created!”

  “And my spear,” she handed it to him for him to hold. “And my wristlets and leg guards and even my shoes!” she turned about to lift a hoof. “These were all gifts and more you eagerly offered us on the eve we stayed inside your home! You even made us a fine dinner of cooked, spiced fish and even pumpkin bread!”

  “Spiced fish and pumpkin bread you say?” said the cyclops. “Why, spiced fish and pumpkin bread is my favorite meal of all!”

  “We know!” said the pair together. “You told us yourself!”

  “Where are the other gifts?” he asked.

  “Our friends still have them and have put them to good use! We’ve been separated from them and we don’t know where they might be or if they’re even alive!”

  “That sounds frightening.” Said Bohga as he offered them the spear and shield. “You have my curiosity. If you would like you are welcome to stay here at my home tonight. And if you say you enjoy spiced fish and pumpkin bread as much as you say you do, I could be convinced to start a fire and make a fresh batch of each.”

  “That would be both delightful and gratefully accepted.” Said Hoxley.

  “And in exchange, you will tell me more about your friends or how you found your way here and this fascinating lyythium, I would like to hear more.” Hoxley and Prince Damron smiled at one another. Perhaps they weren’t as doomed as they thought. “Come, come, let me wheel my cart of things inside and I’ll get a fire started. You must be famished after traveling such a long way.” The cyclops lumbered around to the back of the cave before returning with a creaking, handmade wooden cart the size of a carriage. Heaped upon it were freshly picked greens, chopped logs and a sharp axe as big the prince himself. The pair followed Bohga inside and he lit a torch bore lighting three more. Once there was some light inside, he stacked fresh wood under a vent in the ceiling where a pot hung in a recess dug out of the wall. Hoxley and Prince Damron took quiet seats at the edge of the room while logs in the hearth were lit with wood shavings as kindling. Soon a fire was burning beneath a bubbling pot full of freshly scaled fish.

  “It is so rare that I see anyone is this region.” Said Bohga loud enough that the others could hear him. The largest settlements are on either end of this land save for the witches.”

  “You know how to find the witches?” asked the prince.

  “Oh, they’re not hard to find if you head due west by northwest for a few days.”

  “We have friends who are witches.” Hoxley added. “They are kind souls and loyal friends. We hope to find them and the others as soon as possible so that we can make a decision about what to do next.”

  “And what might you hope to do?” asked Bohga as he smashed up a fistful of pumpkins and sorted the guts from the rind.

  “It’s really quite complicated.” Hoxley sighed.

  “Perhaps if you explain it to me, I might be able to understand.” Bohga said as he set to preparing a large table. “We do have some time before the meal is ready and I do find your being here rather interesting.”

  “Where should I begin with this story?” the faun asked the prince.

  “Perhaps with the beginning.” Smiled Bohga. “The best place to start a story is at the beginning. And when you get to the ending you should stop.” Hoxley thought about it and took a long breath before starting the story about crossing a bridge and hearing a cry for help. For a good long while she recounted every step of their misadventure, noting the additions and losses of their companions as they traveled across the land. In the end, she conveyed how they’d come to find the cyclops. When it was all over, Hoxley was out of breath, but it had given their host enough time to finish preparing their meal. Bohga placed some carved wooden bowls and spoons upon the table before portioning out enough spiced fish into each. Once they were settled, he filled a large bowl for himself and sat down. Both Hoxley and Prince Damron eyed the creature as he slurped. “Hmmmm.” Said Bohga, chewing his fish. “I have heard quite a few stories in my day but I cannot say that I ever heard of such a story like what you’re telling me. I am sorry for the loss of your ‘Idris’, young man. He sounded like a good friend.”

  “Thank you, Bohga.” Said the boy.