Cassius had been cold before. He had been tired. He had been overworked. He had pushed his body past the point of exhaustion while taxing his young legs in the pasture with the herd. This was different. Is it the mountain?

They were on the trail following the Druid Elisor to the Broch. Haven, so impressive while he ran through its cobblestone streets and dirt alley ways, now seemed so small. No, it wasn’t the thin air of the mountain. I have been up high before too. What is this? This crushing fog?

The Druid had not met with them since that small room, three days prior. Cassius and his father Howlen had spent the time well fed and provided for, but locked away in an apartment of the Longhouse with only two small sheeted beds and a desk with a stone lantern. The lantern had been replaced four times in their stay by servants who came and went in silence. Or was it five times? No matter, Cassius had concluded, he could not even remember a single interaction with his father during that time, much less the amount of lamps provided.

He remembered trying to stay quiet while he cried each night facing the wall so his dad would not see. He remembered his father holding him up, saying something. Maybe nothing. Where was his mother? People don’t disappear. Sunday did not bark without reason. Then he vanished too. Cassius felt himself fading again, but caught his balance on the horn of the mule’s saddle. It was just too cold.

He came crashing to the dirt path. His hat fell off his head. It was picked up and carried beyond his reach in the wind. He felt the cold of the snow and ice cut into his now bare cheeks. So cold, Cassius shivered again, unable to stand. Then he saw his father lifting him again. Howlen’s face was hard as he removed his hat and gave it to his son, Cassius saw, but in his eyes there was something else; something softer.

Love? Maybe this is what he meant. Maybe.

“My boy!” Cassius heard Howlen cry as everything faded.

Cassius awoke laying on his back among the sheep in his pasture. Fresh spring grass dripped with dew. It was hot though, much hotter than any spring morning he could remember. To his left he saw the familiar tree line bordering their pasture, and his father, with Sunday walking along it. Howlen stopped to look into the trees, moving the branches more than normal, then he and Sunday disappeared into the forest. Cassius hoped for a successful hunt. Had they been hunting?

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Cassius turned his head and felt the warmth of the sun in the cool blue sky. Yellow sky? No, he took a second look, it was the perfect blue it should be. So warm. His head fell to the other side. The Caspian’s waters calmly lapped against the sandy shore. Yes, a perfect day for a swim Cassius thought, I’m glad we came here.

As he rolled to his side to get up he saw them. Hundreds emerging from the sea, blue and pale and monstrous. They were chanting something. All of them saying the same word. Not in unison. Each just saying the word to themselves. It was deafening but Cassius couldn’t make it out. The sky was yellow, he glanced up, orange even but getting brighter. He knew it had been. It wasn’t blue. He knew what he saw. The sun must have tricked him. The water creatures walked slowly out of the Caspian Sea, but they were much closer now. “They’ve come back to us!” He heard someone shout. He turned to the voice and saw Caitlyn running with arms outstretched towards the monsters. No, Caitlyn went home. She didn’t even wait in line. She did not lose anyone.

Cassius looked again. Sure enough it wasn’t Caitlyn. He did not even recognize the person running toward the water. “It’s not them!” Cassius leaped up trying to call the person back, but he couldn’t get his footing in the sand. Sand?

He fell again. Where was the grass? The mountain? Oh. A dream. Cassius knew, feeling silly. I’ll have to tell Caitlyn. This is the type of thing she loves to hear about. What a nice smile. Cassius got up slower. Calmly, he brushed the sand from his worn sack cloth pants. He looked up and saw her, pale, dripping with sea water and dead. “Mom?”

Cassius opened his eyes with a shock as if he had just begun to fall, and the pain flooded in. There was no mistaking reality this time. This was no dream. Cassius stared up at the high stone ceiling, then to the walls of his new chambers. A large hearth burned on one side of the room, crackling and sending its comforting warmth toward him. Not the Longhouse.

Cassius moved his legs off the bed, but it was higher than he thought. The ground was not there for his feet. He toppled over to his hands and knees. The jarring fall brought more pain and he laid his face on the fur rug. Who has rugs?

“Dad!” his mind called but his mouth would not obey. I’ll find him. He must be close. He had been there. Everywhere. “Dad!” he tried again without success.

Pained, Cassius crawled on all fours through the wooden door, pushing it open with his head and shoulder. “Help!” There, he could speak. He rolled to his back in the hall, proud of the accomplishment.

Elisor’s pale skin, green eyes and black hooded cloak hovered over him, a toothy grin curled across his face. “Hagsbane.” The Druid said.

Yes that’s the word, the water creatures were saying Hagsbane. Thanks old man, you Druids aren’t as bad as everyone says. Cassius thought as he closed his eyes once again.