Jack breathed in the air... and immediately starting coughing profusely. The cold, fresh air didn't agree with him. In fact, most things healthy would have lengthy pointless arguments with him.
"Ah, the prodigal son returns", a voice greeted him. Jack squinted and looked up. A winged woman, holding a golden staff adorned with olive branches at the tip in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other was hovering over him. "Well met, you may call me Irene", she continued. "And you may call me thirsty", Jack replied eyeing the bottle. "Ah, yes, I figured thou may needest the fierey water of the corn", she spoke as she proffered him the bottle. Jack took a swig of the golden nectar.
"Aaahhh,..." A warm glow travelled through him. He took note that while his emotional state was at a standstill his body still had needs that could be fulfilled. "Not to sound ingrateful here, Irene but you showing up presently seems awfully coincidental", he wryly commented. "What the hell is going on here?", he asked adding a "Prithee" as he genuflected. This time noting that irony had apparently formed too strong an emotional bond and had not left him. "What do you mean?", the mysterious apparation challenged him. "Come On Irene, you know what I mean", Jack responded while slyly tilting his head. "This isn't exactly my first rodeo", he resumed as he raised his left index finger while tipping an imaginary hat, "but I feel like I got bucked off pretty bad and I would appreciate some answers". Irene promptly replied. "I see. I doubt the equine arts are going to be of much help on your journey. Especially with the battle at the end." Jack raised an eyebrow and interrupted, "Battle? What battle?", but Irene tilted her head in a slightly condescending fashion and went on. "Pray, let me continue. You humans possess a range of emotions. As you may have gathered by now, there are some missing from your set. You will need to reacquire them"
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