“Silas, thank Avalkin, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Caledon approached his trusty butler with relief. The sight of Silas filled him with happiness, and he broke out into wide smile. After the strange encounter with the noble, seeing a familiar face had been just what he needed. He walked into one of the mansion’s many rooms – this one housing his family’s belongings.

  Silas wore a smart red vest, emblazoned with a golden phoenix – the Brimstone emblem. It was paired with trim black pants that portrayed a clear sense of professionalism. Yet, the man’s bearing alone spoke to his discipline. No amount of the shallow trappings of his station as the Brimstone's butler could ever surmount the substance of his character. Caledon had little doubt, that even if the man were dressed in rags, it would do little to tarnish his image.

  Silas bowed smartly in response, wearing a small smile.

  “My lord, how may I be of service?”

  “Do you happen to know how long mother and father will be? All this socialising is doing my head in.”

  “Is everything alright my lord? Are you feeling unwell?”

  As he rubbed at his temple, Caledon glimpsed a brief flicker in Silas’ calm expression. He shook his head, eager to reassure him. Silas had enough to worry about on family trips outside of Brimstone – Caledon wasn’t about to add to his burden.

  “No, no – I’m alright. Just eager to return home.”

  Silas nodded in understanding.

  “I am of the same mind, my lord.”

  Caleodon shot his friend a commiserating smile, before catching a shadow of emotion flash on his butler’s expression.

  What was that? Silas’ mask never breaks – especially when around other nobles.

  “Silas… are you alright? Look at you calling me “my lord”. Even if we’re on foreign soil - we’re in private! Besides, have the trade agreements been proceeding well with House Flora? Usually it’s nothing more than a formality, they are always so forthcoming with their produce.”

  Silas fell into a deep bow, and Caledon rushed to halt it, gripping his arm. Silas was his friend, and having to play lord and servant in front of other nobles was something that he despised. He whispered under his breath.

  “Enough of that. Do you have anything to tell me?”

  “No, Caledon. The talks may drag on for another day yet. Highlady Solastra will house us until then. Forgive me, I too grow tired of the revelry.”

  Caledon returned a smile of understanding, gesturing towards a chair.

  “Please, get some rest. I should go find mother – she’s never been one for these prissy parties. Viveria is in the courtyard, there was an excellent display of swordsmanship – you should have seen it! The bladesman would have given even father a run for his money.”

  “I struggle to believe it.”

  Caledon watched a shadow flicker over his butler’s expression again, before his friend smiled at him.

  I hope he isn’t overworking himself. I’ll have a word with mother.

  Silas nodded, his small smile having returned to his expression.

  The sight of it put Caledon at ease once again.

  Bidding Silas farewell, Caledon returned to the bustling mansion. He wasn’t surprised to see so many nobles in once place. The Archcity of Life often hosted the nobility, offering very generous trade deals to the other houses. They had a monopoly over food and grain – yet they had never abused their power.

  Caledon had always afforded House Flora with his respect for that fact. They were an honourable, generous house.

  With some exceptions of course.

  Caledon halted in his path, the rogue thought surprising him.

  Wait what? What exceptions?

  An elf’s face returned to his memory – the one that he had bumped into, clad in the signature armour of the Knights of the Dreadwood.

  Why did he come to mind? He treated me with the utmost respect. Almost overly so, I thought he was mocking me for a moment.

  “Urgh, I need to sit down, I’m going loony.”

  Ascending the stairs, Caledon walked the hallways, finally settling on an appropriate place to collect himself. He gently closed the door behind him, admiring the tall bookshelves lining the white walls.

  With a sigh, he settled into the chair.

  Which was when he heard something, at the edge of his perception.

  “Hello? Is someone there?”

  He whipped his head around, rising from his seat, to see if he was the subject of a prank. With all these nobles, there were bound to be a few rotten eggs – he was only surprised he hadn’t run into any.

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  Finding the room empty, he settled back into his chair, slightly disquieted.

  “What a strange d-“

  Garbled whispers echoed in his head, as if transmitted directly into his mind. It was quiet, as if spoken from a great distance away, only barely reaching his attention. Caledon scrambled back, toppling out of his chair, yet there was no one to be found in the room.

  “Alright, I’ve had enough of your pranks. Come out.”

  Caledon’s eyes traced the room around him. No one emerged. The strange whispering that he heard had disappeared.

  With a sigh, he took a deep drink from his cup.

  “I really should get some air.”

  ---

  Caledon ascended the stairs to the rooftop. Elves socialised in small groups, pointing excitedly above them.

  Caledon’s eyes widened at the sight before him.

  An enormous tree, towered above the mansion, eclipsing it in its scale. It looked to be the size of a city extending upwards vertically, its vast branches covering huge swathes of the Dreadwood around them.

  The elves pointed at it in excitement, exchanging soft whispers, as if in anticipation.

  Resting on the balcony’s edge, he let out a deep sigh, admiring the sight before him. From his vantage point, he could just barely peer into the Dreadwood beyond them. He glimpsed the white cliffs bearing the Emberwood rising in the distance. It was uncanny to see a forest burning without smoke, and he marvelled at the sight of it.

  He knew that the Dreadwood was filled with countless other miracles.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  A very pretty elf turned to smile at him. Caledon felt his face colour.

  “Y-yes indeed. The Emberwood is beautiful.”

  The girl nodded, with a smile. They stood in silence, admiring view before them. As the sun disappeared from sight, dipping beneath the horizon, the elf gently touched his arm, gesturing above them.

  The canopy of the enormous tree positioned at the epicentre of the Dreadwood, over the city of Viridian-

  Lit up.

  He watched as the tree’s sprawling canopy caught the light of the dying sun, its leaves glowing with orange light, retaining the colour of the sunset and preserving it. It took on a hue which reminded him of Brimstone’s own autumntrees.

  The name of the tree came to his mind, unbidden.

  The Dawntree.

  He turned back to look at the girl beside him.

  “Stunning.”

  When she caught him staring at her, her smile carried a hint of mischief.

  “The tree?”

  “O-oh of course. Yes, the tree.”

  He looked down at the field of black roses that bordered the mansion, glowing with edges of gold.

  If there was something House Flora knew how to do well – it was their sense of aesthetics, it seemed.

  Then, his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of his mother – Appella Brimstone. She was watching the sea of swaying orange leaves high above them, that had stolen the colour of the sunset. The girl must have caught on to his expression, for she performed a light curtsey.

  “Please, do not let me hold you back. Your name?”

  “Caledon, Caledon Brimstone. Might I ask… have we met?”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Caledon. I believe I would have remembered you, if I did. Perhaps the same could not be said for you?”

  She gave him a playful wink, and he only hoped she would confuse the colour on his cheeks with that of the setting sun.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  “S-see you.”

  A curious feeling blossomed in Caledon’s chest. Embarrassment was only to be expected. But this other feeling… was unfamiliar, contradictory. He frowned, temporarily distracted.

  Before he could reply, asking her name, she had walked off.

  “Great going, Caledon. You’re Feardamned hopeless.”

  Shaking his head, and vowing to visit her again, he strode up his mother, who was seated with some other ladies.

  “Mother, there you are. I was looking all over for you. Reminds me of the autumntrees.”

  They both stared up at the Dawntree.

  “My, Appella. Your son certainly has inherited his father’s looks. Young man, if you are in search for a noble lady’s hand, all you have to do is ask.”

  He nodded politely towards the mischievous older lady, and blushed at the gentle laughter her teasing had evoked amongst their company. She was dressed in elegant brown robes, and had eyes with piercing yellow irises. Caledon inclined his head politely towards her.

  His mother sat silently, gazing up at the tree.

  “Mother?”

  She looked at him, and smiled silently.

  The seconds drew on, and the voices around him faded. He looked deep within her eyes, and a strange feeling started to burgeon in his chest. Something was pressing it down. Keeping it from surfacing.

  Caledon recoiled, his eyes wide, fixed on his mother. His chest heaved, and sweat began to surface on his forehead.

  His mother’s gentle smile was… unfamiliar. She looked just like she had, but it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.

  He could not detect the slightest trace of recognition in her eyes. She turned back to her companions silently, smiling cordially.

  Caledon fell to his knees, frowning as he noticed drops of liquid on the ground beneath him. He wiped at his cheeks.

  Tears? I’m crying… Why?

  He felt his attention already beginning to drift away from the question. With all of his will, he focused, not letting it flit from his mind. It was as if the thought was slippery, and at any moment, he would lose sight of it.

  This isn’t like me.

  Caledon opened his eyes to find himself holding something unfamiliar.

  What is that? A… torch?

  It was ornate, made from dark metal. Intricate carvings ran down its sides, culminating in a hollow and circular golden cone.

  This is the strangest torch I’ve ever seen. It almost looks like a bladeless hilt-

  Caledon's breath caught.

  The roof around him, so full of life and excitement at the emergence of the Dawntree had come to a standstill.

  The elves around him were kneeling. Or curtseying.

  In deference to him.

  Caledon recoiled, and in a blink, the elves around him had returned to their admiration of the tree ahead, as if the moment had never happened.

  It’s strange… for a moment, I felt like I could feel them all.

  Within my grasp.

  He looked around the rooftop, his chest heaving.

  “I really need to get some rest.”

  “Are you alright?”

  He looked up at a familiar face, the pretty girl that had spoken to him. He stood to his feet in embarrassment, brushing himself off.

  “O-oh yes, thank you. May I ask you a question?”

  “That depends on the question.”

  Her eyes glinted with mischief.

  Caledon gulped, as he cursed himself at his social ineptitude. When the girl heard his question, he wouldn’t be surprised if she took off to the hills.

  “This is going to sound really strange. Did you see those elves… bowing to me?”

  She raised a shapely eyebrow, looking at him with incredulity.

  “Which elves?”

  “Well… all of them on the rooftop.”

  She huffed a quiet laugh.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, I was entranced by the Dawntree. I can assure you I would have joined in if I had the chance. Perhaps you’ve been having a little too much to drink?”

  Caledon blushed, nodding in defeat.

  “Perhaps.”

  “I don’t blame you though, Flora knows their stuff. What do they call this? Nectar? It’s somehow sweet-“

  “-and spicy. Looks like you’re quite familiar with it too.”

  They exchanged a glance and chuckled. She nodded, long blonde hair, falling from her shoulders, which caught the glow of the Dawntree’s canopy that shifted lightly in the wind, far above them.

  “You got me. I’ve been drinking it like a fish.”

  “Forgive me, I didn’t ask for your name.”

  “An unforgiveable sin, perhaps you don’t deserve to receive it? I was wondering when you were going to ask, unless you found it out by some other means…”

  She laughed, enjoying his tormented expression.

  “I’m teasing! I’ll be nice, Caledon.”

  She dropped into a practiced curtsey.

  “I’m Vale. Pleased to meet you.”

  Pretty lavender eyes shone in the light of the Dawntree above them.

  “For the second time.”