After days spent processing Elder Stone's teachings, Remi found herself drawn to the edge of their territory. The forest had transformed with autumn's touch, painting the mountainside in russet and gold. She perched high in an ancient pine, her bare feet easily finding purchase on the rough bark, observing the movement below with a hunter's patience.

The tavern's weathered sign creaked in the autumn wind, its faded lettering barely legible in the gathering dusk. Inside, three figures occupied a corner table well away from the evening crowd, their drinks barely touched as they waited. Dhuson Blunthammer's thick dwarven fingers drummed impatiently against his ale mug while David Smythe and the man known only as Crash watched the door with practiced casualness.

The clearing had been unnaturally quiet since Father's extended absence. Even Remi's growing sensitivity to earth-vibrations could not trace his movements beyond their usual territory. The mother dragon's restlessness manifested in constant, agitated movements—her massive tail carving fresh furrows into the ground as she maintained her vigilant watch over the clutch.

"Come on, come back," Remi whispered, pacing the clearing as Brother watched with evident concern. Her bare feet had long since toughened against the rough stone, but she kept moving more from nervous energy than any real purpose. "Just bring him back safe. Please." Speaking aloud helped maintain some connection to her humanity, even if the words were meant for no one but herself.

Chapter 09

Warmth.

That was the first sensation—a gentle, encompassing warmth that seemed to cradle consciousness itself. There was no body to feel it with, no skin to register temperature, just the pure essence of warmth wrapping around awareness like a mother's embrace.

The nameplate on Ms. Thurnglad's door gleamed in the fluorescent hallway lights: "Student Guidance Counselor." Remi stood before it, his hand hovering over the handle as the morning bell rang in the distance. Through the frosted glass window, he could make out a vague shape moving within—probably Ms. Thurnglad arranging her ever-present collection of motivational posters and self-help books into their precise positions.

Ignore the body you are sure to find. It's just me…