Playing. Happiness. Peace

Jack ran into the Mischievous Hare's kitchen whilst kicking up a fuss, dodging the cooks and waiters alike as he laughed and cackled senselessly. Erik and Jadelere burst in tow soon after, spouting obscenities and profanities alike and swearing to hang the boy over a fire when they caught him.

"What is the meaning of this?" Angrily shouted Iris as she stood to block the two teacher's path. "The kitchen is a sacred place and I will not have it defiled by you two."

Iris had been promoted to head chef of the Mischievous Hare a year earlier and she had taken to her post with the highest level of dedication. As it turned out, her capabilities as a first-class chef were only surpassed by the diligence and strictness with which she enforced the rules of the kitchen on to those unwise enough to challenge her domain.

While she blocked them, Jack was able to slip out from the back door and Jadelere groaned in displeasure when he saw it. "Good Iris, we are in urgent need of catching that devil."

"That 'devil' is your student." She chastised. However, she had seen many such scenes taking place in the last six years. "What did he do this time?"

It was Erik who spoke up. "He reorganised all of my books into a codified ASCI system which was barely perceptible at first, only to reveal a riddle which led me to a hollowed tree around the manor. I went to check, and I discovered, to my horror, that there was a series of… booklets… of a… ehem… pornographic… nature."

"What in the name of Divines?"

"They were mine!" Cried out Jadelere. As much of an intelligent man that he was, Jadelere had always been shameless enough to boast about his collection of erotic pamphlets as if they were a genuine elder artefact. "He took them from my secret storage!"

Erik was clearly embarrassed by the situation because he took a step back and started coughing as if he had nothing to do with Jadelere. Iris had to fight back the urge to facepalm.

"That's hardly a reason to chase him halfway across the city." She sighed. "It's nowhere near as bad as when he brought that donkey and made it lu-"

"We agreed never to talk about that!" Interrupted Jadelere. "The problem is that hollow tree was in Leah's courtyard!" He added as his face became red with rage.

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed."

"Did she get angry?"

"She's sharpening her castrating knife as we speak." Erik's face turned dark at the memory of the blade's cry as it was grinded against the whetstone. "Angry is a serious understatement."

"What's happening in here?" Ichabod had been alerted by various members of the staff that an incident was taking place in the kitchen. He'd rushed down as soon as possible to investigate and put a stop to it, if at all possible.

"Another one of Jack's pranks." Explained Iris.

"What is it this time?" Ichabod felt sorry for the two old teachers and so he placed his hand on their shoulders as a sign of support. "I hope it's not like last time when he codified all of your books' contents and made you go on a scavenger hunt to find the key he used to code it, that eventually led you to a den of fisstech smugglers."

Erik and Jadelere glared hatefully at Ichabod, they'd almost died due to that particular prank because they burst into the smuggler's den guns ahoy fully convinced that it was a toy shop. Even though the city had praised them as heroes after the fact, they loathed that they'd been led by the nose by Jack in such a way.

"Or that time he convinced you there was an elder ruin just outside of Groamburk and you went to check and almost fell into a cesspool?" Asked Ichabod after seeing that no one was answering him, or even looking him in the eye. Even Jadelere, despite usually being thick-faced on this matter, felt uncomfortable telling Ichabod about his collection of erotica. "Or that time he brought the donkey and…"

Iris couldn't keep listening to the stories and so she decided to interrupt him, especially seeing how both Erik's and Jadelere's faces were growing increasingly greener. "No, worse. It's like this:…"

Ichabod roared madly with laughter. In truth, he loved each one of Jack's pranks and secretly hoped that the boy would never stop with his antics. After all, no one ever got hurt and each one was more fascinating than the last.

--

Jack, the culprit, was running down the streets of Groamburk whilst chuckling to himself loudly. He wasn't flying about with laudable speed derived from his high-tiered movement techniques, he was just running at the negligible speed of a child.

He enjoyed the feeling of running without a purpose, without rushing somewhere to kill someone or fleeing from an opponent you cannot beat. There was a sense of freedom in this type of running that Jack was infatuated with and simply couldn't get enough of.

Running without a reason, without a goal, without purpose, just because he could.

It was one of Jack's favourite things to do.

--

He stopped just before lunchtime in front of a particular house in the poorer side of Groamburk. It was a small, quaint, little thing with a few flower pots out front that stood out from the simple wooden houses that made up the neighbourhood.

Jack knocked on the door and waited for a short while as an old woman opened the door and greeted him with a gentle smile. "You're early, today." She said in a coarse voice that told a great many tales about her life.

"You said yesterday that you'd be making cookies." Jack held her arm as he walked into the small house.

"Did you torment your teachers again?"

Jack grinned. "You know I did, and it was amazing."

"Sometimes I pity them." Said the old lady as she allowed herself to be led to her chair.

"They enjoy it, even though they act like they don't."

"Of course they do! You're their dear student who never fails to disappoint them and always manages to add more challenges to their daily lives." She said as she gestured Jack to bring over a tray of cookies she had specifically prepared for his eleventh birthday. "Even though they put up an argument, I'm sure they're immensely proud of you." She sighed. "If only my granddaughter was still alive you would have been good friends; she'd be just about your age now."

That's right, the old lady was Hannah's grandmother of the same name whom Jack had located after some searching for any of the deceased girl's remaining relatives. As it turned out, only her grandmother was still living. Jack had then taken it upon himself to visit the old woman daily and help her out wherever he could.

"Anyway, no use dwelling on the past." She added as she discreetly wiped away a tear from her eye. "The past is only useful for old folk like myself to reminisce. Young'uns like you should think about the future."

"Not true." Said Jack as he placed the clay tray of cookies in front of her and took the seat opposite at the table. "The past is a source of infinite wisdom for us young ones. Without it, we're doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again."

The old lady looked at Jack with surprise and smiled humourlessly. "You're too wise for an eleven-year-old boy."

Jack didn't say anything but flashed an innocent smile. Hannah looked at him for a moment and proceeded to wave her hand to indicate that she wouldn't add anything else. "I hope you like them; I added some cinnamon." She said as she carefully handed Jack a cookie.

Jack took a bite, opened his eyes wide, and voraciously devoured the delicious cookie. "It's amazing!" He reached out and grabbed another.

"I'm glad you enjoy them." She smiled with boundless tenderness.

--

The two spent a good chunk of the afternoon chatting over menial topics and exchanged stories. Jack listened to Hannah's tales of Groamburk and how the city had grown over the years; she, in turn, listened to how Jack was living his life.

Often times he would say something peculiar or tell her about strange and mysterious places with mirrors that could show images of far-away lands and chariots that could fly. Hannah listened to his 'beautiful lies' and marvelled at his astonishing imagination.

After a few hours, she told him it was time to go home, not before gifting him a few cookies to give to his family as a token of her gratitude for letting him spend time with her almost every day.

Jack thanked her and bid his farewells by giving her a hefty hug. He then began making his way back home and readied a few mind games he could play with Erik and Jadelere in order to escape their scolding.

He whistled as he skipped down the streets, greeting the shop tellers down the way and playing the part of a happy young boy. By now, almost everyone in Groamburk was familiar with Ichabod's son, an exceptionally kind and keen minded young boy with absolutely no martial talent.

The news of Brant's diagnosis of Jack's crippled meridians spread all over the city not two months after the testing took place; no doubt the result of a well-placed bribe by either the Calles and Retrona families, or both. However, the common folk hadn't cared about it in the slightest – the martial talent of the descendants of martial families wasn't something they had the luxury to comment on without risking offending someone they shouldn't – until Jack began actively interacting with the community with kindness and friendliness.

Jack started with small acts: helping fix a fence, giving massages to an elderly man who'd lost a limb in a mining accident, helping other children with their school-work, and even donating his old toys and books to those without so much money; and then moving on to become friends with some of the children around the city and become acquainted with their families. Everyone loved the young Jack!

That was when the neighbours of Groamburk began lamenting the Divines for bestowing such a nice child with crippled meridians. Brant had even noticed a surge of prayers begging for the boy to, at the very least, have a good life. The truth was, everyone knew that in this world where might was right and a clenched fist represented the most persuasive argument, a cripple would be destined to suffer. It simply wasn't fair for Jack to have to put through that fate given how kind he was.

To all these rumours, Jack simply chuckled and shrugged them off. Ever since he'd decided to stop arduously cultivating, he'd felt himself free and unrestrained; unfettered by the shackles of his past tying him to oceans of blood and gore.

This wasn't to mean he wasn't cultivating. He was still training, just not to the point where he would increase his strength by leaps and bounds on a daily basis. In fact, he had continued cultivating only at the behest of Leah, Erik, Jadelere, and especially Ichabod, whom all had trouble dealing with Jack's constant slacking off. That being said, he was currently at the sixth level of the Martial Realm.

Overall, Jack had fully integrated himself with his new life on this new world, and he was loved by everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

"If it isn't the 'crippled Hare'!"