The events of the day did not leave Bayaal’s mind, even as he slept. His dreams were dark and scattered. He caught only brief images. A stone, a carving, a woman. He tries to focus on the woman. He panics; he is alone in his own nightmare again.

  “Bayaal wake up!” A voice cut through the darkness -

  Bayaal was abruptly awoken from his slumber. As he beckoned consciousness from whatever respite it received, a face came into view. It was his mother! Coming to, Bayaal now realized that his mother had a firm grasp on each of his arms. “Mom?” Bayaal asked, more alert, but not quite awake.

  “Hey kid,” his mother spoke softly. She was looking down on him, smiling. Her chestnut hair no longer pinned; it fell lazily around her shoulder.

  Bayaal sat up, fully awake now. He realized he had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace. A wooden chair as his only bed. His muscles screamed as he sat up and stretched, thankful to no longer be contorted to the wooden seat. As he slowly regained his senses from the slumber of sleep, the smell of coffee enticed his nostrils.

  Sayth noticed Bayaal longingly sniffing the air. “Want a cup?” She asked with a smile, extending her hand towards her son.

  Bayaal accepted the warm mug and took one long drink, taking time to gather his thoughts. He wondered how to address the dragon in the room. “It's morning,” he said nonchalantly. “Were you in council all night?” He raised his glass to take a second drink, trying his best not to seem like he was interrogating his mother.

  “I was and there is much we need to talk about. But first I’d like to talk about this metallic beast that ate you,” Sayth said in a playful, accusatory tone.

  “Ah! Dammit old man!” Bayaal said in a half-asleep voice. Finally, Bayaal righted himself completely. He looked down at the brown liquid in his mug, watching small bubbles form and collapse against the edge of the vessel. Then, he let out a small sigh, “It was strange,” he finally managed to say in the way a small child professes their fear to their parents.

  “How so?” His mother asked, giving him the space to process what he needed to say.

  Bayaal, grateful for the time to collect his thoughts, thought for a moment. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Finally, he spoke, “It felt, almost, out of place here.” Bayaal paused again, unsure how to word what he was feeling.

  “You’re right,” his mother spoke, breaking the silence. She leaned forward in her chair, pleasing her forearms on her knees and leaned towards the fire. She resumed in a serious tone, “Things are changing Bayaal, I don’t know fully what's happening, but a storm is coming.”

  Bayaal now mirrored his mother's posture, “Is this about the diplomat from Specfield?”

  “Yes and no. He did bring news, and an invitation.” His mother’s flat tone did little to hide the troubles she too felt. “The elders and I - “

  Bayaal cut his mother off, “Mother, you’re an elder too.”

  “Bah stop saying that, it makes me feel old. Anyway, the elders and I received an invitation for the entire village. There's going to be a celebration in Specfield to mark the coming of the solstice. Invitations were sent out to every village, hamlet, city and back water.”

  Bayaal had many burning questions already. “Why this solstice? They’ve never done that before. Have they?” he asked, looking to his mother.

  “No, not that I’m aware of.” His mother replied

  “So, same question, why now?” Bayaal countered, perhaps more aggressively than he meant.

  “Bayaal I don’t know.” His mother said to him in a tone that meant the subject was tabled for the moment. “But there’s going to be a meeting during the celebrations. Apparently I was requested by name. It's directly with the high council.”

  “You’re ax,” Bayaal said, motioning towards his mother's waist.

  “No no, I don't think it’s anything like that. But it wouldn’t hurt to bring it with us.” Sayth said, unsure of how much to tell her son.

  “Wait us?” Bayaal asked, excitement rising within him.

  “Yes us, as much as I hate it, I need you by my side. When meeting with the council it’s important to present as strong and unified. So, you’re coming too,” Sayth said in a tone that let Bayaal know this was not her first plan.

  “When do we leave? The solstice is soon.” Bayaal asked, now wondering how quickly his day would descend into chaos.

  His mother smirked, “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? Are we taking the carriage?” Bayaal asked, unsure they could prepare the carriage in time to leave.

  Sayth laughed at this. Bayaal watched as his mother laughed with genuine humor. It had been so long since she allowed herself that reprieve. Holding the responsibility of the youngest elder was taking a toll on his mother. He noticed now, she had aged, not much, but Bayaal could tell. Her eyes held a tiredness he had not since since the passing of his father.

  Finally collecting herself, Sayth spoke with a hint of humor still in her tone. “You and I will be riding ahead with the ambassador and the carriage team.”

  Bayaal stared for a moment, thought, and chose his next words with caution. “Why are we going ahead with the ambassador, shouldn’t the chief elder be going ahead?” Bayaal asked, prying further than he meant.

  For a moment, Sayth said nothing. Then a sudden seriousness was evident in her posture and facial features.

  Bayaal noticed this immediate change in his mother, he knew it well. His mother was about to share something with him that was troubling her. He braced himself, feeling the anxiety that now filled the room like the smoke of raging inferno.

  Sayth leaned forward and sat her elbows on her thighs, holding her hands together in front of her. At the same time she furrowed her brow, again deciding how much to share with her son.

  After a pause, she spoke. “We’re going to Spectfield for-.” She pauses a moment, and leans back in the chair, having decided to share everything with Bayaal. “Five months ago, Emberfell cut off all communication with Spectfield and Daufim Hill. They’ve recalled all of their ambassadors in every major village and city.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Bayaal opened his mouth, ready to interrupt with a question.

  Sayth raised her hand to cut him off, reading his mind. “No, no one knows exactly why yet. The high council can only speculate, and unfortunately for us, they need to assemble all council members from every village for this.”

  Bayaal was starting to understand why they were leaving tomorrow. The High Council of Councils hasn’t assembled in over two hundred winters. The last time they assembled was when a rogue warlock was raising armies of the undead in Lighttalonwood. Another event the elders had made sure to share with the children around the fire. Bayaal found himself momentarily distracted, lost in these thoughts.

  A log cracked in the fire, bringing Bayaal’s focus back onto his mother. Sayth continued. “The ambassador also shared the last message that was sent from Spectfield’s informant in Emberfell before communication was ceased.”

  Sayth reached into the pocket of her tunic, retrieving a small parchment. She began to read from it. “Discovery in Emberfell mine. Investigate Blood Stone.” Her voice trailed off with the last word. Its vocalization is like bitterness on the tongue. She offered the parchment to Bayaal.

  Bayaal hesitated for a moment, staring at the small parchment in his mother's hand. The last two words stayed with him, “Blood Stone,” he spoke softly. He slowly seized the parchment from his mother's hand. He read it silently to himself, allowing his eyes to dance over every hurriedly scribbled word on the page. Finally, after a moment of contemplating, he asked his mother, “What’s the Blood Stone?”

  Sayth answered almost absent mindedly, “I’m not sure.” She placed her forearms back on her thighs, leaning forward, watching the embers of the hearth dancing against the stone. “I know it’s something to do with the gods, but that’s it. The hope is the elders from Daufim Hill may be able to provide insight.”

  Bayaal thought for a moment. If the Blood Stone was some kind of religious artifact, the zealots of Daufim Hill would know. Sitting in their high towers, day in and day out. Reading all they could on magic and the gods.

  “When do we leave?” Baykal asked his mother, leaning back in the chair, admiring the sparkling embers in the hearth.

  ” Tomorrow, at first light,” his mother replied. “And bring something nice to wear please, this is still a celebration you know” she added as an afterthought, her face forcing a small smile.

  She was nervous, and Bayaal knew it. The way her eyes darted back and forth as she furrowed her brow, lost in an ocean of questions with no answers in sight. “Have you ever been to Emberfell?” Bayaal asked his mother.

  Her brow softened, thankful for the change of subject. “No, I haven’t. Most people in Specfield tend to stay away, but you know that.”

  The three kingdoms held a shaky alliance, everyone knew this. It was very rare for anyone to cross Emberfell borders. The clerics from Daufim Hill refused to go because there was no magic in Emberfell, their spells and incantations were just words there. Specfield townspeople grew up hearing the story of the Emberfell heathens who angered the gods, that’s why they have abandoned them. Forced to work by flesh and machine, no magic to aid them.

  Bayaal shook the old tales from his mind and stood, offering an exaggerated stretch. With this Sayth stood also. For a moment they both looked at one another.

  Sayth spoke, “Alright, like I said we leave tomorrow. Make sure you pack everything you need for the journey.

  “I know, nice clothes, a ring for the king, I know the drill.” Bayaal teased his mother.

  “Alright ‘Mr. Prepared for anything,’ we also need supplies from the store house. One sack of flour, a few jars of vegetables and a jar of fat. Go have Eaton set you up.”

  Then, Sayth did something Bayaal did not expect, she embraced him. Bayaal did not fight it. He enjoyed his mother's embrace. He still found it comforting, as a scared child would. After a few moments they both released. Bayaal felt a new sense of calm in him.

  “Alright, I’ll see you tonight. Remember what I need you to do.” Sayth yelled at Bayaal, already running out the door.

  “The woman never stops.” Bayaal said aloud to himself.

  “I think she knows more than she’s letting on,” Bayaal spoke matter of factly to Eaton. He had quickly packed his belongings as his mother had asked. Careful to include his own ax.

  “I don’t think your mother would do that.” Eaton stated, never looking up from the parchment he was currently using to take stock of the village supplies.

  “She would if she thought she was protecting me. I know her Eaton, there's something she's not sharing.” Bayaal said, with his brow furrowed, resting his head on his intertwined hands.

  Eaton paused for a moment, laying the parchment on the small wooden table in the middle of the storehouse. Sighing, he took a seat next to Bayaal. He shifted his body a few moments, obviously uncomfortable on the rough wood of the crates. “She does want to protect you, but in this case, I think she shared everything she knows with you. These are strange times. I think she wouldn’t want you to go ahead with her if she thought there was unknown danger waiting for you both. Maybe, maybe she just wants you to see the city and enjoy the celebration. Would that really be out of the ordinary?” Eaton paused, watching Bayaal mull over the advice he had just offered.

  Bayaal stood up and spoke without turning towards Eaton. “Maybe you’re right, I just have a feeling in my chest, it feels like Draedad is squeezing my chest.”

  “Could it be a fear of the unknown?” Eaton asked, matter of factly.

  “It could be. I guess you’re right.” Bayaal said, allowing his shoulders to relax. “I’m scared, Eaton. Something’s different, and I feel like we’ll be walking right into it. But you’re right. I don’t think she’d bring me with her if she thought it was going to be dangerous.”

  Eaton stood, placing his hand on Bayaal’s shoulder. “And that’s okay.” Eaton said gently.

  Bayaals shoulders began to rise and fall, small tears streaking down his face. “I’m so scared, Eaton.”

  Then, before Bayaal knew what was happening, Eaton embraced him, pulling him close. Bayaal allowed himself to cry silently into the man’s shoulder.

  What felt like minutes later, Bayaal pulled away from Eaton. His tears were no longer falling, but the telltale sign of sniffling could be heard outside the store house.

  “Now-” Eaton said to Bayaal, raising a large sack to him. “Bring this to your mother. Get some rest Bayaal, we have a long trip ahead of us tomorrow.”

  Bayaal stopped and cocked his head. “You're coming too?” Bayaal asked, a tinge of excitement present in his tone.

  Eaton smiled, “Aye, your mother asked me to go early; to keep you company while she’s attending to council business.”

  Bayaal smiled, quickly embracing Eaton again. “Thanks Eaton.” He said, just above a whisper.

  Eaton smiled, relishing in the embrace. “Alright, now go bring your mother the supplies.” Eaton said, winking as he did so.

  Bayaal spent the remainder of his day going to and from the carriage house. Preparing for the long journey that lay ahead. He had been honest when he had spoken to Eaton, he was scared. To Bayaal, something was off.

  “Hey kid.” His mother suddenly spoke from behind him.

  Bayaal jumped, yelling. “Mother!”

  Sayth laughed. “Sorry, I was just coming to see if everything was ready, it’s getting late.”

  Bayaal smiled, “I think so. There's food, my bag, your chest. And Eatons chest?” With the last question he turned to face his mother smiling in a teasing manner.

  Sayth laughed awkwardly. “Did I not tell you I asked him to come along?”

  Bayaal smiled at his mother. “No, but I’m glad you asked him, honestly.

  “Well, that makes me feel a lot better about asking him.” Sayth said, exhaling.

  Then a thought struck Bayaal, “Wait, I thought we were riding in the steel carriage with the envoy? Why am I prepping the horse carriage?”

  Sayth laughed, “Good question. The steel carriage is going to pull ours behind it. The envoy offered us a way there, not back. And I’ve been meaning to make it to the city to purchase a new steed, but I just haven't had time between council meetings and life. I figured we can kill two birds with one stone.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” Bayaal said to his mother. “Well, I think the carriage is ready.”

  “Great! Go to bed.” Sayth said in a way that only mothers could muster.

  “All right, all right. I’m going, I’m going.” Bayaal said, adding his own tone of sarcasm to the conversation.