The Ripper

The First Night

While listening to his story, Erik's mom dressed the tender, but healed, wounds on his back. Jean interjected with some commentary every now and then, mostly about how the cart came up so quickly and how Erik fought through the pain to get back home. Her anger had dissipated, thankfully, once she had heard why Erik was forced to use his sword.

"It all worked out," Erik's mother said. "I'm glad."

"You're not mad?" Erik asked.

"No," Erik's mother said. "What you did was very, very dangerous, but I would rather you come home alive than take the full brunt of that hit. Did either of you recognize the man?"

Erik and Jean shook their heads.

"The guards did take him into custody," Jean replied.

"Alright," Erik's mother said, "Thank you again for helping Erik."

"Yes, thank you again," Erik said. "I'd probably be passed out on the street if you weren't there."

Jean half-smiled. "Of course. Always going to be there for you. Anyways, I have to go check on my sister. Left her by herself a little longer than expected."

Erik's mother raised her eyebrow.

"She was napping," Jean added quickly. "Should be up by now. Bye, Erik. Goodbye, Missus Hyde."

After Jean left, Erik's mother sighed and rubbed her temple. Unsure of what to do, Erik just kept sitting at the dinner table. He couldn't tell if she was still mad or tired or worn out or some combination of all three. With The Ripper running around, she must have been getting more snide remarks since she was from the Decapolis. It was obvious with her darker hair and skin. It didn't help that she was well-known for being a former guard from Lyca.

Still, no one suspected her or talked badly of her. They'd lived in Meryl for over a decade now, and Erik's father was a well-respected merchant. The chief of the guard was a family friend and uncle.

"Erik, you're a good boy," his mother said, "better than anyone could ever ask for. But I'm worried about you. This isn't the first time you've returned home hurt. It's dangerous now."

Erik looked down at the table. He'd passed out before too while he was out in the town. He'd gotten into a fight with a surly, drunk man at the tavern trying to woo some poor girl, who was obviously a child. The drunk man tracked Erik down in an alleyway on the way home, and Erik was knocked out. Jean had to carry him back that time too.

"I know, Mother. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. We'll talk more when your father gets home," Erik's mother said with a sigh. "Are you able to do your chores?"

"Yes," Erik replied.

As the sunlight streaming from the windows transformed into a faint glow from the night lamps on the street, Erik and his mother cleaned up the house, prepared dinner, took care of Chris, and waited for his father to come home. Erik cleaned up the dishes, and his mother helped Chris get ready for bed. Then they continued waiting at the dinner table for Erik's father to come home.

"Is Father okay?" Erik asked.

"I'm sure he's all right," Erik's mother replied. "He mentioned that there's a new band of merchants from the Decapolis arriving soon. Perhaps he's busy with that."

Erik noticed his mother quietly tapping her foot on the floor.

"Or perhaps he's out with your uncle again," she continued. "But I'm sure he's alright."

A soft trail of footsteps caused Erik to glance at the stairwell. Chris, the sick little boy, gawked at the two of them by the table. When Erik locked eyes with the boy, he swore he saw Chris's bright blue eyes get bigger and shinier like he was about to cry. The little boy sniffed a little bit.