Aliza looked up from beneath the edge of her quilt to the jar glowing faintly blue in the darkness of her bedroom. A jar her mother had left there before departing for the evening with father. A light left to guard her through the long hours. A light too dim to see her room by.

Dazzling light filled the chamber, not that any would ever call it the brilliance of a midday sun. No, this was quite the opposite. The light of a hundred full moons which matched the rhythmic and chiming strikes of a smiths’ hammers falling on anvils. Not hammers of steal or anvils of iron. No, both were made of silver polished to a high shine engraved with spells which channeled the moonlight through each. And with each stroke of the hammer, the smiths of this forge honed the dreams of the mortals below in solemnity.

The priest quelled, his lips twitching as he drew back from me a half step. “One does not simply request to see the Raven God.”

Ashre dodged a low flying book which continued unaware past her and into Khanan’s waiting hand. There is lay the pages fluttering open as Khanan turned his attention to the book and toward the doorway. In his other hand was a similar, if heavier, tome. “Set the tray on the desk. I’ll eat later” Ashre sniffed. He didn’t bother to look at her or what she carried.

The single obnoxiously short lock of hair vied for Corna’s attention, as she twisted her wrists in the shackle pinning her to the wall. That irritated her almost as much as the wizard Elres working on something at the table in the center of the room. He stood with is back to her, that and the sheet draping over his foul deed preventing her from seeing why he’d disfigured her so.

They stood behind him. Ancis knew they were there, as they had been there when he needed them the most. Drancent the wise. Eansin the strong. Wulfa the huntress. Gryany and her spells. Even little Rida was there though she’d only showed up for the last leg of his journey. He could not have made it this far without all of them.