Instead of meditating and reaching the safety of my Demesne, I was instead thrust into a dream of fire and flame that evening. It was like the door I was trying to go through suddenly was devoured by the flame, barring my way, while I was whisked away on fiery wings.

I had no air in my lungs to scream, mid meditation I did not even have the consciousness to be surprised, but suddenly I, or some part of me, stood before a throne of flame, in a room of embers, coal, and sizzling heat.

And before me I saw, blurred from the heat, a magnificent egg. Spiraling patterns of gold and red, licked, danced upon, cradled, by blue, red, and orange flames. More magnificent than everything else though was the sentient presence I felt. It tasted like the subdued might of glowing embers, not enough to consume its surrounding with its heat, but enough to burn everything coming too close.

It was just the fleeting interest of a dreamer, glancing sleepily in my direction. I was worth that much attention, but not more.

It seemed to me as though the contract I had bound this - what was it? A divine being? A spirit beast? - with had awoken some part of the Phoenix, but not everything. Just enough to accept my offer for help and service. But I knew now, glancing upon the egg, that I was but an ant standing in front of a being equaling the gods in might.

It seemed laughable now, that a being of this magnificence could really need help from someone like me. It was the Eternal Flame, unquenched, unsullied, by even the ocean‘s might. What was I to do to break its chains? What was I to do against someone that had the power to chain the flame under the mountain?

The only reason I did not fell into panic right then and there was the fact that I had two years to figure this out. Two years to find some form of strength. As it were, as it felt, the sheer force of the full attention of the being would be enough to devour my being hole.

To make the best use of our time and effort, seeing as we were not equipped to deal with the problem of the shackled Phoenix, we spend the week hunting the shadow-ink wyrms. To climb the needle twice for just the things we had accomplished so far seemed like a waste to both Simue and me. Down here, we could do something. Sooner or later we would have to reach the body of the fallen dragon, and working towards that goal was at least something.

Just climbing up and waiting in the snowed-in Wreckage that something might happen seemed wrong to me.

In the morning we went hunting for a winged lizard or two near the waterfalls, got ready, and began our endless dance of luring wyrms off the dragon, kiting them back from the herds, and killing them swiftly once we were sure to be undisturbed.

There was some kind of cathartic rhythm to the exercise. Not only could I see the numbers climb, which was satisfying on its own, as the wyrms were worth their weight in Essence, no, they were also the embodiment of the enemy, literally feasting upon the source of the Wyld.

Still, we took good care not to cull them too much, as we needed them to produce more Dragonamber for our growing settlement still. We finally ended our hunting when the Dimensional-Flexible-Chest of mine was filled to the brim with the sparkling gemstones.

If I had to make a guess, depending on the question if larger pieces could be broken up to protect two or more people from the maddening Song of the Wyld, I would say that we had collected a thousand pieces or more in our week of hunting.

Even with Cogar bringing more Wyldlings from the other tribes into the fold, we should have enough now to offer shelter to a couple of hundred people and still sell hundreds more on the markets for everything we might need in the coming months.

Despite my faint wishes, I did not learn any information about the elemental keys or the locks they could unlock, not even working a week very close to the body of the dragon I suspected being part of the mystery. I felt nothing, heard nothing, and saw nothing. The only way forward I could see was to completely free the dragon from the hordes of wyrms, an undertaking worth an army and a large campaign if I wanted to see results in the foreseeable future.

Simue and I did not communicate much. We were amenable enough to work together, like a well-oiled machine if I might add, but what had happened between us and the remnant of Zora hung in the air like an unspoken accusation. Which was unfair, as far as I was concerned.

So I was relieved when I finally laid my hand on the wet rocks of the Needle to make the climb, leaving the Hidden Garden for the time being. The next time I would return, it would either be with the fire mage Thimotheus to tackle the problem of the shackled Phoenix or the Crows and Rangers at my side to fight the enemy head-on.

For both scenarios, I needed the staircase to be finished.

Once again I felt like my goal was pushed further back. Whenever I was close to reaching it, some problem arose, barring my way.

I had been naive, maybe. I saw my brother in spirit fighting his enemies to the north, and my knee-jerk reaction had been to challenge four mighty beings of the Wyld, to claim the power they held for myself.

Maybe I should have sharpened my sword and went to war by myself. In the end, that would have helped Cogar more than anything I had done in the last months, as impressive the stories were I could tell around a fire.

If I did not succeed soon, that was. I was close.

The problem was: I was hunting a dream when our enemies were very real. And I had no idea how my brother was faring in the north. My Skill [Brothers in Spirit] activated from time to time, conveying emotions and very blurry images, but that was it. The Wyldlings on the warpath had not wandered close enough to Ravenport that one of my [Bearer of Bad News] I regularly sent out had been able to reach them.

Maybe now, after my Unbound Rangers had scouted along the border to the darkness of the Divide, I would be able to send one of them deeper into the territory of the Wyldlings to search for the others. If I could find a reason to.

I felt the need to meddle rise in the back of my head. I now had an inkling when it was coming. The Bear Clan, Kara, Cogar, and his hunting pack were out of my control. We were allies and that was it. And it irked me. I do not know if that was the noble in me, the Margrave protecting the Empire from the Wyldlings, the Twice-Born, or what I had become, Lord Protector of Ravenport, but I hated things being out of my control.

I could very well imagine that Cogar did not even realize that I worried about his clashes with the other clans. For him, it would be as natural as breathing and he would not feel the need to report back to me.

On the other hand, I had to tell him about the darkness that lurked below the cliffs of Westhaven, beings bred by sinister rituals and human suffering, clearly aimed toward supremacy of the sea. Maybe even us. I had to tell him of the ill omens I had seen in the mist of the waterfalls, about the waking of the Dragon of Darkness and his burning gaze catching mine.

Soon, my thoughts got swept away by the water around me, the winged-lizards hunting for my flesh, and the exhausting focus I had to keep up to find the right grips for me to master the slippery wall. Soon everything that was left was the route, the rock, and me. When we reached the path we had prepared on the way down, all negative thoughts left me and the rest of the climb was pure joy and precious moments of freedom.

The Wreckage, Ravenport, and the Raven‘s Nest were positively serene when we came back. All were buried under a blanket of mostly undisturbed snow. The bay had not yet frozen over, for which I was grateful, but the rest had finally fallen under the winter‘s grasp, which, as calm as it was now, seemed peaceful and quiet.

Winter was the time to reflect, to spend around fires, and to prepare for the coming spring. And I...I had nothing left to do. I had nothing left to do worth doing, that was. I could leave again, roam the north or the wilderness, explore other areas. But I was focused on the task and the task needed me here.

There were a few meetings, of course. Journeys and Projects had to be organized. Simue left with Brandy, the Rebels, and the longboats for the Smuggler‘s Cave and ultimately the Fallen Empire. Higgins prepared the old hulk, which we had named Walrus, for another journey west, to bring more Dragonamber to the markets which Veneir had opened up on his last trip.

Veneir would stay, his expertise in organizing the expansion of Ravenport was worth more than the extra profit he could make on the markets of the west. He had already made his contacts and contracts. The rest could be handled by Higgins.

Only this time...this time I wanted him to buy weapons and armor. Bows and arrows most, as I wanted to train most citizens in a ranged militia, but he was to buy plate for the knights, weapons fitting their rank and expertise, and better gear for the Unbound Rangers as well. Higgins was to look for more tools for the craftsmen building their workshops in the settlement in the Stormplains, more seeds to grow, and more materials we were lacking, like cloth, glass, tar, and metals.

This time, the craftsmen and people of Ravenport had been able to make lists, organized, prioritized, and approved by the never-resting mind and eye of Veneir, as to what they needed and what they wanted. We were, as long as the amount of Dragonamber we had was a secret still, very wealthy, as we could sell single stones for the prize of magic items to the studious, learned, and curious.

I spent my time as I had before. I sparred with knights, the young Wyldlings, and the fighters in the morning, studied the tomes of the golem-maker after, worked on refining and improving my Demesne and my Skills in the evening. Having a Skill was not the same as being a master of a Skill. I refined the sharpness of my [Cutting Winds], learned to handle [Stonehide] better, trained with [Tornado Catapult] when no one was looking, and improved my understanding of the muddled and madness-inducing patterns of [Reader of Ill Omens]. At night I either lured the Nightmares to the Wreckage to train my troops or I sparred with the Betrayer, learning new insights into the fighting style I had used to beat Zora.

Most importantly, after all the hunting I had done in the Hidden Garden, I bought the Skill [Raven Companion] for all of the Unbound Rangers, completing their skillset. I watched the Ravens wrought of shadow and cold fly into the darkness northbound, searching for their human partners, wishing them all the luck in the world for the duty they had so bravely taken upon their shoulders. Even after that, I had enough Essence left for a couple of Core Skills or one or two of the newer Skills. I was thinking hard about what to buy but did not want to rush the decision.

I was making good progress, in the physical areas more than in the intellectual, as Lily send me a notification that set my blood ablaze with ...what? Shame?

[Raven, your incoming Essence just went through the roof. Something is happening. A lot of people just started praying to you. Like, dozens of people all at once. If I am not mistaken, someone is organizing a ritual or a mess or something along those lines. -L]