“Well??” the figure prompted, with obvious irritation.

Standing before them was a creature Garran had never seen before. It was tall and wooly with thick, coarse white fur all over its body. Stretching easily to six and a half feet tall, it stood on two pointed, cloven hooves. Adding to its height even more, were a pair of enormous rounded horns growing out of the top of its skull and curving around to the back of its head so that the tips of these massive horns ended evenly with the creature’s furry jowls.

Falling down from its chin, was a long white scraggle of a beard, haphazardly banded with hempen rope. The chin itself bobbed up and down and in a somewhat circular motion as if the creature were masticating something quite chewy. His two beady eyes glared down at Teya and Garran as if they had both stepped in something unpleasantly pungent.

“I see,” the bipedal goat-like creature stated and spit something onto the ground next to him. “You two are mutes now? All that cackling and carrying on and now Old Barnabas Surehoof comes to talk to you and the cat’s got the wolves’ tongues? Fine, fine. Stay out here in the snow. But if you’re going to be bringing all the storms with you and causing avalanches and what nots, you won’t last long up here. It’s amazing you’ve made it this far if you ask me. No one is as resilient as Old Surehoof,” he said puffing himself up.

Snapping himself out of his stupor, Garran awkwardly got to his feet, his tail visibly drooping from exhaustion. He wobbled unsteadily as he stood looking at the creature speaking to them, but was still able to incline his head with some dignity, “Apologies, we are still reeling from our endeavor with the climb… and the avalanche. We meant no disrespect. We are just quite exhausted, and to be honest, we weren’t expecting to meet anyone out here...”

Barnabas chewed for a moment, shifting an ornate gnarled walking stick he’d been carrying from one hand to the other, then spat on the ground again. He stared at them for a moment with narrowed eyes, then grumbled, “Well, I expect y’all will be needin’ a place ta rest then, won’t ya? Come on then. Let’s not dally out ‘ere. There’s another storm comin’ I ‘spect.”

As the goat-like creature turned and headed back towards the rocky outcrop, the wolfkin noticed something for the first time. There was a single floating lantern, but beyond that, was nothing but rock. He didn’t see an entrance to a cave, hole, or any sort of shelter.

Where had Barnabas been during the avalanche? Garran pondered as he glanced at Teya. The she-wolf was apparently thinking the same thing, judging by the apprehensive look in her eyes.

“Baaaahhhhh!” Barnabas bleated. “How is it an old ibexian is moving faster than a few young wolves? Come on then! I don’t want to stand out here all day!”

Garran scooped up the rest of their belongings and headed towards the old goat standing next to the stony side of the mountain. As he approached, he watched the light dance around inside the glass lantern like snowflakes on the wind.

“Ahhh you’ve seen my creation. I call it my ‘Guiding Light’,” Barnabas’ chest puffed up with pride. “It always helps me find my way home.”

Glancing around, Garran searched for some obvious trail leading up to a house, but all he could see was snow and rough rock jutting out of the mountainside. Shifting his focus back to the lantern, he reached his clawed hand out towards its metal frame. Instead of touching something solid, his hand passed through the edge of the lantern. All at once, the image exploded in a bright, yellow light and images of dozens of fireflies scattered into the air. Most of them sputtered out, but one flew straight towards the exposed rock face and erupted into a bright light that formed the shape of a small, wooden door into the stone.

The ibexian blinked, surprised for a moment but quickly regaining his composure, “I see you’re not completely useless then. Know a little about magic, do you? Well, go on then! In ya’ get!” Barnabas motioned towards the now-glowing door within the rocks.

Garran shrugged towards Teya and walked up to the image of the flickering door. Hesitantly, he reached for the handle, but similar to the lantern, his hand plunged through the door and disappeared. Instinctively, he snatched his hand back, but when the clawed, gloved appendage was still fully intact, he huffed in amazement. With his ears bent in in anticipation and brows furrowed in determination, he stepped through the shimmering door; the she-wolf and ibexian right behind him.

The Steward gasped at what he saw; with all he’d learned of the world over the last few days, nothing prepared him for this. He had stepped through some type of portal. The rock face was small and claustrophobic, but the room he now found himself in was open and spacious.

The room was stiflingly warm to a nauseating degree. A massive fire flickered and burned from a large fireplace in the center of one wall. A large metal lid clattered on top of a pot as a thick pungent liquid bubbled out of it and assaulted the wolfkin’s sensitive nose.

There was no smoke from a chimney before we entered here...How is this possible? Garran shook his head in bewilderment.

Despite the sweltering heat, the room took on the appearance of a spacious log cabin with a somewhat cozy atmosphere. There was a medium-sized wooden table with two chairs and a padded bench in the center of the room. Atop the table sat three plates. Two of the plates were piled high with various types of meats cooked to perfection. The smell of roasted venison, grilled fish, and even lemon-basted quail wafted to Garran’s nose. The third plate was set off to the side and had an assortment of items on it varying from carrots, cabbage, wheat, and what Garran thought to be parchment paper.

Over in the far corner of the room, there were three individual beds. One was padded with layers of hay and grass, and the other two were padded with sheeps’ wool and a feather pillow on each.

“Ahhhh Belvedere, you’ve outdone yourself!” Barnaby said as he popped into existence behind the wolfkin. “He’s always ahead of me. Always knows just what is needed. Well dig in, then. I imagine you are hungry.”

As if on cue, Garran’s stomach let out a grumble worthy of an angry grizzly. Teya, too, inched forward in the direction of the table. The ibexian unceremoniously plopped down in one of the empty chairs and immediately took a large, unforgiving bite out of one of the heads of cabbage on his plate.

Garran sat in the remaining chair while Teya climbed awkwardly onto the bench; her large, lupine body towering over the table. The two of them quickly abandoned all pretenses of politeness and dug into the food before them. The meat was succulent, seasoned well and cooked to perfection. Garran could not remember anything tasting so decadent.

With his mouth full and spilling over with food, Barnabas mumbled “I’m not one for venishon and poultry, but I am pleashed you approve of my shervant’s cooking. Belvedere, shome wine pleash.”

Glancing around, Garran looked for a servant walking toward the table. What he saw instead, however, was some invisible force picking up a carafe from a small side table and floating it over towards them. One by one, the three goblets seemed to fill by themselves with a thick, red wine.

The wine was heady and sweet with quite a pleasing taste, but Garran placed the goblet down. He’d need to keep his wits about him. No sooner had he thought this, when a new goblet appeared on the table and this time it filled with a clear liquid. The same thing happened in front of Teya who had lapped a bit of the wine up with her tongue from her own goblet.

“Aha! Can’t hold your liquor then, eh? No worries! Old Belvedere always provides what is needed! Water for the two of you milk-drinkers then, eh?” Barnabas chortled with laughter and took a long swig of his own wine. As he placed his goblet down on the table, it filled itself back up to the brim.

And so Garran, Teya and Barnabas ate until they were full; their platters refilling with food when quantities of their contents diminished, just as their goblets did.

When at last everyone was satiated, Garran leaned back drowsily in his chair, the warm atmosphere and full stomach making his mind sluggish. “Why are you here?” he asked the goat-like creature.

Barnabas took a large bite out of the parchment paper and began chewing vigorously before spitting a large wad into a spittoon that had appeared next to him on the floor. “Why am I here?” Barnabas grumbled with indignance. “I’ve lived in these parts for a hundred an’ twenty years. Don’t like visitors, see? Too nosy an’ needy. No one comes up here on account of the cold and I like it. Just me and Belvedere. What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Got holes in me socks older than you, ya know? Neither of ya belong up here. You belong with your people tanning leather and hunting mountain lions and some such. And you,” he turned to Teya and pointed his hairy hand at her, “belong in another plane. Don’t think I don’t know what you are… or were…”

Garran and Teya snapped their heads up. “How do you know what Teya is?” the wolfkin asked, shocked.

“Old Barnabas knows it all! I know of the prophecy, and your friend,” the ibexian fixed him with a knowing stare. “And the bargain that was offered to you…”

Garran’s mouth ran dry. He could feel Teya’s eyes on him too; scrutinizing him. Those eyes seeing through him.

“What dream? What bargain is he talking about, Steward?” she asked, not missing a beat.

“Yea. Everyone knowing more about me than I know of myself seems to be a trend these days,” he said tursely towards the goatman. “And there is no bargain. It was only a dream and means nothing,” he met Teya’s two-toned eyes.

“Only a fool ignores his dreams,” Barnabas said brashly. “Windows to the souls, they are. Tells ya’ all abou’ a person, they do. Old Barnabas isn’t just an old goat! I can detect yer thoughts before ya’ speak em out loud, I can.”

Garran looked down at the patch of mismatched thread on his jerkin and ran his thumb across it subconsciously as a distraction. This old goat has eaten a few too many nightberries, Garran thought to himself while trying to feign nonchalance.

“Baaaahhhh!” Barnabas bleated. “Insulting me at me own table, now? After I fed ye’ and took ye out of the cold? I’ll have you know, nightberries are delicious and very good in stews.”

The wolfkin blanched. He really can detect my thoughts??

“Well of course I can! Told ya’ I couldn’t, didn’t I? I don’t blame ye. Simpletons can’t control their thoughts, so ya aren’t in control of what yer thinkin’.”

From the corner of Garran’s eye, he could see Teya’s head was turned and her shoulders were shaking. She was either panting due to the warm atmosphere or masking her laughter at the situation. Garran guessed the latter.

“So, you know that Teya is a Bastion. How is that? More mind-reading?” Garran pressed the awkward conversation forward.

“Yes an’ no. Yea, I can read her thoughts an’ could pick it up that way, but I have other ways. I can sense power from sources, in a way. I sense turmoil within you. Like a babe that can’t really walk yet. Very scary ta’ have an infant wielding the power o’ a storm. Hope Aegis knows what he’s doing.”

This time, it was Teya that spoke up, “What do you mean ‘power of the storm’? He has been granted the power of a Steward. Of what storm do you speak?”

“Not what storm, Lady Wolf. The Storm,” he retorted and leaned back in his chair rubbing his full belly. “Want old Barnabas to show ya? Fancy Leather Pup over here has already experienced some of it, I ‘spect. Been having dreams of winds and storms? Been snowing and storming a lot lately? And then there’s the avalanche. Ya might wanna be more careful with yer powers in these parts. Can get quite dangerous if ye don’ know what yer doin’.”

Garran blinked, confused. “Are you suggesting that I caused the avalanche? We were just walking up the path. And what do the storms have to do with anything? It’s almost zeshova, so it normally snows this time of year.”

“That’s somethin’ you’ll have to take up with Aegis. I don’t pretend to understand the whims of the gods,” the old goat replied.

“So much for ‘Old Barnabas knows all’,” Garran said under his breath.

“Baaaahhhh! I know what is happenin’ on this plane! I can’t tell ya what a god is going to do, or why in the frozen tundra he’d pick a whippersnapper like you for such powers. We’re all in trouble if you’re the savior from the Herald of Night!”

Teya leaned forward, “What can you tell us of the Herald?” she asked gently, trying to soften the tension.

“Warped by his thirst for power, I ‘spect. He controls the power of water and water is quite powerful indeed.”

“You are speaking of Umbra? But Umbra is a son of Aegis. He could not be the Herald of Night. He helps nurture and sustain life.”

“Does he now? Think of all the children o’ Aegis. Which one would you think wields the most power, and is the most corruptible? There’s Charra, who holds dominion over fire and flame. Yes, she is quick to anger, but also quick to fizzle out. She brings warmth, protection, an’ light to the world, but is no match for the raw power of water that can snuff her out in a wink.

“Then there’s Terran, father of earth and flora. Life within the earth would not be sustainable on its own without water to nurture it. All Umbra has to do is withhold the rain and Terran would be at a disadvantage.

“Then there’s Zephyr, mother of wind. She would be the only child of Aegis that could put up a formidable fight against Umbra. However, wind and rain are like peas in a pod, and if one pea is bad… I’d worry about the other turning as well.”

Garran sat forward in his chair, shaking his head, “This history lesson is interesting. It’s not something I have ever understood, but what does it have to do with me? If a god is vying for power, what could I ever do to stop them? I’m just a wolfkin.”

“His children aren’t true gods. They are only half-so,” rolling his eyes, the ibexian pursed his thick lips and fixed Teya with a stare, “He has no idea the power he’s been given, does he?” Turning back to Garran, he continued, “You have been granted the gift of Aegis. Think about that. Aegis gifted all his children with the powers over those elements, so if he gifted you with a portion of his power...”

“He could potentially have control over those elements too,” Teya finished thoughtfully.

Barnabas nodded his head emphatically and waved his hands as if he were relieved someone had figured out his riddle, “In time, yes. At the moment,” he said, cutting his eyes back at Garran, “it’s almost as if someone put lightning in a wine jug and shook it. He could explode at any moment if he doesn’t get his powers under control."

“Yea... Well, technically, I’ve already done that…” Garran quipped, scratching behind his white ear.

The goat creature’s eyes went wide at this but anything he was about to ask was cut short as Teya burst out with laughter, spraying water that she’d been lapping all over the table. Immediately, her ears drooped and she hung her head in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she muttered as Belvedere--Garran assumed--magiced up the rogue water droplets.

“Look, I appreciate your hospitality. Everyone is laying a lot of heavy stuff on me right now and all I really want to do is find my friend. Since you seem to know a lot, do you know where the orcs are? The orcs that have Sius?”

“I’ll show you,” the goatman said, standing and heading over to the boiling pot on the fire.

Taking a large wooden ladle and a small cup, he spooned a large amount of it into the cup. The liquid was quite thick and a dark purple opaque color. The ibexian walked back over and handed the cup to Garran.

“Drink this. It will tell you all you need to know,” he said nodding his head assuringly.

Garran’s stomach churned and threatened to release its contents of quail and fish as his nose was assaulted by the foul odor. It smelled of burnt hair, mold, and petrified cow leather.

“Well, those were definitely ingredients in my potion. Drink up now, before it gets cold. Else it will taste worse,” Barnabas said pushing the cup up towards Garran’s lips.

The wolfkin stared hesitantly down at the concoction in his hand briefly with an upturned nose then tipped his head back and downed the entire cup’s contents in one swig. And instantly regretted it.