It had felt like an age had passed since he had left home. The sights and smells of Grey Rock as he approached were near overwhelming. His smile seemed to be permanently fixed. The growls of his stomach reminded him of home baked foods he was about to gorge upon.

Without noticing he was saying hello to everyone he passed with more enthusiasm than most folk expected from a simple good afternoon or how do you do. But those of the highlands were reputed to be warm and welcoming. 

As was the way, Karolus walked the road back into the settlement alone. The Douén were to remain in their camp a few miles outside the village. Having spent time with them he wanted nothing more than the village to see the things he had. Especially the elemental spirits. Connor would love them. 

Galwyn had told him he had a few days before they would be breaking camp and leaving. Frustratingly the wolf had still not shared details of where they would be heading.

Karolus had given up trying to find out on the journey back to Grey Rock, the Douén were being secretive and enjoying keeping the destination from him. To be fair his thoughts had been mostly taken up by the ritual he had been the target of.

Even less information was shared about the rite. All he got was, soon you will know, any day now you will have the answer, and many more vague responses. He had a vision of becoming a Douén himself, then wondered what animal he would look like. The only wolf he had seen was Galwyn, he prayed it wasn’t a caterpillar, he could hear Glen now “I told you so.”

Every smell and sound he took in deeply, holding on to them as long as possible. Chickens cluck loudly as children work joyfully chasing them about their gardens. It had been a deep winter when Karolus went to the Douén. Now it was milder, not by much but noticeable. 

Some folks were staring at him with mistrust, waiting for him to change into a Fey abomination and attack them, so tell the stories of those that mixed with the Douén. He smiled and waved, laughing at himself for once believing something similar. 

Others were friendlier.

“Thought you’d been eaten lad!” called old man Tiller. 

“Not yet but there's still time!” Karolus called back with his arms out wide.

The statement stayed with him, he had forgotten how much the folk of the village mistrusted and feared Douén.  

They had fed and watered him and other than the odd jibing when he was out matched or slipped in the mud the Douén had been kind.

“Karolus!” young Connor came bounding across the muddy yard, dropping the chicken feed from his hands. 

This was the longest time the brothers had spent apart and both leaned into the hug. It had only been a few weeks and the younger looked taller and broader.

Mountains appeared in Karolus mind, his giant brother stood before them.

“Ma! Ma! Karolus is back!” Connor turned, shouted, then ran at the house, all in one breath.

Standing in the doorway holding a piece of linen was his mother, Karolus grinned and headed over for a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hungry?” she asked softly, happy to see her eldest home. Meegan took in the moment and held it like a breath.

He nodded and the door closed behind him.

Everything was the same but felt new. He ran to his bedroom and lay on the wooden cot, staring up at the ceiling. Bits of straw sticking through. The room hadn’t changed much beyond Connor leaving mud prints and pine cones everywhere. 

Sleeping under the stars kept warm by fire spirits, or within the canvas tents comfortable. It still didn’t compare to one's own bed. 

“What are you doing?” Connor asked from the doorway with a quizzical look.

“It’s been a while Con, just enjoying the memory and making sure your stinky butt hasn’t been on here” Karolus jibed with a smile.

“You’ve only been gone a few weeks, nobody even missed you and that stink was there when you left!” Connor crossed his arms and took up most of the doorway.

“That’ll explain the hug outside then.” he raised an eyebrow to his sibling.

“Ma made me do it.” Connor didn’t wait for a response. Choosing to win the conversation by way of no longer being in the room.

Karolus chuckled and took another long breath. He was going away for a lot longer. From the sense of it further away as well. The last few weeks, albeit hard, were just a taste of life with Douén.

His mother had made him promise to say a proper goodbye when he was to leave with them. This evening would be that goodbye. He felt sad for a moment. He truly was going away, he might even die and never see them again. Never see Connor grow, never eat the honey oats his mother has given the brothers every morning for breakfast for as long as he could remember.

Karolus was snapped out of his overwhelming thoughts of staying put and never leaving his mothers side, forever waiting for her voice, calling him to help in the yard.

The weather was rubbish with no sign of it improving but it didn’t matter. He was happy chasing the chickens and trying to get them back in the hutch and out of the elements. 

There was always one that refused, today it was Speck. An old hen who was not going down without a fight. The battle raged on as Karolus ended up covered from head to toe in mud.

Connor and his mother were laughing, ignoring the rain. Taking the side of the Speck and throwing feed at Karolus, shouting words of encouragement to the battling chicken.

Karolus dashed to his left tackling the hen, getting several scratches for his efforts. But finally old Speck was safe in the hutch. Strutting as if it had been the plan all along.

He joined in the laughter as he spectacularly failed to make himself any cleaner. The rain was making the wet mud thinner, so with every wipe it just spread across him. 

“You’ll be bathing before sitting at my table, boy.” his mother warned with joy in her tone.

More of the day leading into the afternoon was spent this way. Outside in the rain doing the chorus he had done for years. It was mostly making sure the few animals they had were safe and warm as the rain hadn’t let up since his arrival.

Late afternoon was the time the sun would be setting this time of year so as the oil lanterns of the main roads through the settlement and fires were started. It was a time in the day that the yards and streets were quiet and folks would be heating water to wash the hard work of the day away.

Karolus stood in the lean too at the back of his home, a bucket of steaming water and several rags he thought of the magic of the Douén. How easy their cantrips made things. The starting of a fire, bringing small items closer to them so they didn’t have to get up.

The life of a magic wielder seemed one of luxury but luxury is not how he would describe the Douén. Content was the right word he felt. 

How such arcane skills would be useful around his home. He scraped a large slab of mud from his shins before soaking. It slapped against the rest of the mud he had already removed from his upper half.

He was near naked to make sure he got as clean as he could, but in these conditions it was a make-do until he could get down to the lake. Hopefully the trip would take him that way and hopefully the fire spirits would keep him from freezing to death.

His thoughts drifted back to magic. It was out of reach, fanciful tales all filled his youth. Seeing Douén use it as an everyday tool was mind blowing.

At first Karolus had been waiting for fireballs and flying, or even the creation of mountains. It would be fair to say that he had no idea what they were capable of. The cantrip magic had been impressive the first time but now the spells no longer inspired excitement.

It seemed as though the most the Douén did was ask for aid from the elemental spirits that hung around them. 

The water had cooled fast and now the act of cleaning had become a race to get as much of the yard off him as possible, before he was left washing in cold water.

This race was interrupted by the love of his brother, as Connor ran past and launched a bucket of ice cold water over his near naked brother.

Connor ran laughing as Karolus entire body stiffened.

“I’m gonna kill you!” the elder shouted to the youngers laughing retreat.

Moving to the kitchen area he sat at the table, Connor was already ready holding his wooden spoon and bowl. His teeth had stopped chattering after dressing in clean clothes.

His mother had warmed them by the cooking fire ready.

The stew cooking in the pot was filling the area with a wonderful aroma of meat juices and veggies. The pepper gave a smell of heat when the brothers breathed it in deeply. Both looking as excited and child-like as the other.

They were not disappointed. After their mother dished them both up a healthy amount they set about it with a chunk of sourdough bread. It was a dance on Karolus' taste buds, the food of the Douén was alright and sustained, but the cooking from his mother was divine.

It was as if he had never left. The family ate, made fun of one another and enjoyed one another's company until the night was fully upon them.

“Is it true they do the dirty all night and drink blood?” Connor asked, making rude gestures.

“Connor!” their mother snapped.

“Sorry ma, I was only asking.” he lowered his head.

“Don’t worry brother, it's not all night and only a little blood.” he winked and the brothers shared a laugh.

“I suppose you're only back for a little while then?” Meegan asked.

“A couple of days at the most.” he locked eyes with his mother. 

“Gone for longer then I suppose.” it wasn’t a question.

“Good, means I get your bed.” Connor punched Karolus in the arm and stormed from the table.

The hit was a strong one. Karolus rubbed at his arm and sighed.

“Ma…”

“It's not me you need to convince. I already told thee it's a bad idea and be the death of yer. But you're a grown idiot and can make your own choices.” She nodded down the corridor towards her youngest.

Karolus gave her a hug and followed.

Connor had gone straight to Karolus' room and was sitting cross legged on the cot.

“This is my room now, so get out.” and turned his back.

Connor turned away even more when Karolus sat beside him.

“Get out.” Connor said but softer.

Karolus put his arm around him and pulled him in tight. The brothers sat there for a while before they spoke again. Mainly to call one another names and Connor promising he would look after Ma when Karolus left.

Connor had asked Karolus to tuck him in. The siblings shared a hug and jab to the arm. But the moment was genuine. 

He was still in awe at the size and strength Connor was packing. 

Connor was now wrapped up in sheep wool snoring his life away leaving Karolus to get some alone time with his mother. 

“So how are they treating you?” his mother asked as she was putting away plates and bowls from dinner.

“I’m fine, mother. Trust me.” he didn't need to answer the question directly.

She paused and took him in. 

“You look more like your father every day. Seems they are feeding you at least.” she patted his stomach. 

Karolus smiled at the father comment. 

“There is nothing sinister about the Douén Ma.” he raised an eyebrow before feigning injury from the gut shot.

“Matter of opinion, you ask any mother around here and they will tell you taking our young’uns off who knows where, is sinister.” Meegan waved, gesturing outside to the rest of the village.

He held his arms out wide, surrendering to the point. He knew there was no winning this argument.

Both stood quietly for a moment.

“This really is it, isn’t it?” she asked rhetorically.

Karolus nodded.

Standing straight and proud she took both his hands in each of hers. Their eyes met. Sadness and pride shone in his mothers.

“How's Glencora?”

“What? They are alright, doing well, why?” he was caught off by the change of subject.

“You look after that one, they be good for you, and you them if the pair of yer allow for it.” Meegan let go of her son's hand and prepared the kettle.

Karolus thought back to the night they kissed. It still swam in his thoughts making no sense. But Glencora had always done what they wanted, when they wanted.

“So who is the Douén looking after yer, supposing they have names.” 

“Galwyn, he’s my mentor, of sorts at least.”

“He a good’un?” she paused in her tea task.

“To be fair hes a bit mean.” Karolus tried to be funny.

The look on his mothers face, one of wanting to march up to this Galwyn person and give him a piece of her mind, was priceless.

His laugh disarmed her and mother and son embraced in a tight hug that immediately softened her.

The evening was spent sharing a kettle of tea and honey bread. It was perfect. Karolus knew the next couple of days would be filled with hidden feelings and chores, but tonight he and his family shared a few hugs and tears. 

Meegan regaled Karolus' youth, reminding him of the times he fell off the back wall of their yard. Or when he broke his leg winding the neighbours dog up. The dog had only died a year ago. Oldest thing in the settlement folks said, if you ever saw it, it was believable.

When nightfall took the settlement Karolus went about pulling the curtains across the windows, dropping the latch on the doors and blowing out the candles. There in the quiet of the darkness he took in the memories of the place. The nostalgia swept through him and the lump in his throat told him how much of Grey Rock was in his heart. 

He truly was leaving. If any of the stories were true of the Douén then it would be a long while before he returned. Connor may be grown with a family of his own, their mother and grand mother.

The village was still, the faint flicker of firelight beyond the windows. He said a quiet prayer to the Drydakka of Dair and Tinne. Oak and Holly to protect his family.

Karolus groaned awake. The smell of smoke filling his nostrils. An orange glow came from outside his window. Far brighter than that of a street torch.

 It took him a moment to realise there was a fire. A large one at that. His lungs tightened as he only just noticed the smoke he was breathing in was in the room with him. 

Grabbing a blanket he made his way to Connors room, it was filled with thick black clouds.

He shouted for his brother but got no response. It didn't matter he had to go in.

The angle of the room seemed to funnel the smoke in. Karolus was almost blind to everything but the smoke, but he managed to bump his way to the bed and felt the bump of his brother, unmoving.

“Connor, Connor.” he grabbed and pulled his sibling from the bed to the ground with him, the only place it seemed there was still air. 

Checking quickly he found Connor was still breathing albeit short and shallow. He needed to get him out of the house. Hooking his arms under his, Karolus dragged him into the short hall towards the back door, it being the closest.

“Ma! Ma! Wake up!” Karolus had to get Connor out first, he shouted through the coughing in hope it would rouse his mother.

It felt warm, a lot warmer than it should have. The fire had reached their home. Out into the yard, shoving the door open with his back. Karolus pulled Connor further away from the house, seeing the flames lick up from the front of the house. 

Karolus couldn’t tell if he was crying, if it was the rain or the sting from the smoke. He roared at the house shouting for his mother as he pulled Connor further away. All around him Grey Rock was ablaze. It stopped him in his tracks. It was still pouring but no matter the heavy rain the fire didn’t care.

Challenging the weather, daring it to put the flames out. The rain cowered against the rage of the flames.

Looking around there were folk in the streets, rushing around with buckets of water from the wells, throwing it into the flames to no avail but still they battled the raging element. The closest person to him was Marla, a butcher from the southern edge of the settlement. 

“Please, help. It's Connor, I don’t know what to do, I need to go back in for my ma.” Karolus tried to keep his words clear and concise.”

“You can’t go in there lad you’ll be burnt to a crisp, then what's Connor going to do. You need to stay with him Karolus, we need to save those still giving voice to be saved.” her words spoken with softness but with the tone of a tutor stating facts.

Karolus looked back at the house, flames eating the roof, thick grey and black billowing through the windows and door he had opened. 

“I can’t do nothing, I can’t just..” what was happening, it was so fast. One moment he slept the next in the rain with his little brother.

“Karolus!” Marla shouted him back to reality. 

“Get Connor back on his feet, that's your priority. We will check everything else when we get rid of this fire.” She deliberately avoided mentioning the very likely death of his mother.

Sound rushed back to his ears at his name being shouted. He scooped Connor up and over his shoulder and began to trudge. Tears poured down his face disguised with rain and ash.

The screaming of pigs on fire was a sound he would never forget. He tried to push it away. Wooden beams cracked and crashed as buildings fell in on themselves.

The fire was so aggressive, it felt unnatural, as if it was attacking the settlement. Moving closer to the well, his logic being they would be safer closer to water. There was some truth in this but it was not in the way he had imagined. 

Ahead just beyond the well was a long hall used for feasts and entertainment. Outside stood Galwyn, fur soaked, dark patches of blood staining him. The wolf's glowing staff was gripped tightly as he moved in a circling motion to keep the two creatures intent on ending his life just out of range. 

They were massive, covered in layered steel armour, large shields and short swords in their hands. At first Karolus thought they were wearing scaled armour under the steel but it wasn't, it was their actual flesh. They were dragon folk, Samos and Tharros, lizard-like warriors from the city of Calvaria, miles away from the Toan Highlands. 

What were they doing here? He pulled Connor to the well and slipped, covering them both in mud. He peered over the stone work and saw Galwyn lunge forwards slamming the but of his staff into a shield, a loud splintering noise shook the air. 

The shields had a multi-coloured gemstone with many sides modified. Their clothing was deep blue, that looked close to black in the night.

Despite the rain and shadows he could see the emerald shimmer of their scales. Deep set eyes beneath the helms focused on the Douén before them.

“Come on Connor, wake up, wake up.” he rubbed at the boy's arms and torso. He desperately wanted to get him awake and moving. He looked back into the settlement. 

It was as if an artist had unleashed a devastating vision on the world, the destruction the fire was bringing, dark waves beneath bright orange heat, it was both beautiful and terrifying. 

The scene of the wolven Douén fighting two heavy armoured dragon folk in the rain with fire all about them was mesmerising and ethereal. 

Galwyn had carried on his attack deliberately bouncing off the first shield to give momentum into the other. The second strike smashed the shield from the second's grip and Galwyn stepped in to bite at the neck of the shieldless warrior but was hit with a kick from the first.

Similar attempts followed, with every angle Galwyn tried the other countered. He couldn’t do enough damage to one to take the advantage.

“Back off wolf, we are not here for you!” the Samos commanded.

Galwyn righted himself from the kick and snarled back, the druidic tattoos that ran through his fur lit up. The teal light traced the patterns leaving the wolf Douén in a glowing hue. Several air spirit orbs rushed about his person.

“Shame, because I am here for you!” Galwyn roared, baring his teeth. The enchanted staff spun through the air as the wolf threw it with all his might.

Galwyn followed it in and leapt through the air, claws extended and the bite slamming into the scaled flesh of the shieldless one.

 Blood burst from the emerald scales, the creature cried in pain dropping their sword as they fought to get Galwyn off them. More claws and teeth went in, from both sides. 

The wolf tore armour from the warrior to get to the soft flesh. 

Karolus watched on, still rubbing at Connor. No time at all had passed but it felt as if Connor had been unconscious for hours. The worry was creeping deeper and deeper into his heart. 

Seeing Galwyn in this frenzied battle, blood everywhere and the teal tattoo’s highlighting the red mists. It scared Karolus. 

Too many worries were forming when he noticed there was no reaction from Connor, no shallow breathing, no nothing. His breathing had stopped.

“No no no, Connor com’on! Wake up!” Karolus cradled his brother, rocking back and forth against the stone well. Tears ran into his younger siblings' already soaked hair.  

Everything went mute and slow as if time was stopping. Flames flickering in a near still state, the dark smoke billowing, folding over itself as it rose to the night sky. 

Wolves and Dragons clashed forty feet from him, fire cheered them on, from an arena of ruined lives.

Connor lay lifeless in his arms.