There was much to consider, and still much more to do. This I thought of as I lay awake at night, staring up at the ceiling of my family home. I now knew who the members of the cult were. The important ones, anyway. Who to be on the lookout for. These were the people that would set my home aflame, bring death to their neighbors and wipe all this away in the name of the Dragon.

The fiery banner would light high, and all throughout the land, more would follow their example. The first herald of the endtimes. This land would become a pyre to herald Thraxidur’s re-awakening, the ancient dragon of song returned to rule over these burnt lands once more. Here, from my home was where her cult would emerge and grow.

The seeds of discontent were planted. Men and women were unhappy with the complacent rule of their kings and queens. The common folks suffered while forces greater than they held feuds and conducted wars for reasons they could not understand. The Gods had been silent as of late, and people took that as an ill omen.

All of this had shaped this to be the perfect storm that raised high the banner of the Claw. It showed the world that if they did not march by their side, they too would be lit aflame. This was what had taken place in my past life. After great struggles, untold lives lost and far too many years, the dragon’s horde had finally been quelled. And then it had been too late.

This small town would spark a great, important moment in the history of the world. The first step towards damnation would be paved here, and the path would readily follow.

These thoughts ran through my mind, over and over. The knowledge. The certainty. I would avert it.

A letter, a warning to the Lordship would arrive far too late, or not be heeded at all. Lord Konada was the son of a king who’s father had been King, as had many before him. A complacent man who took too lightly the dangers that would come, waved off distant foes as abstract thoughts and spent too much on celebrations of himself. His Hand, and the Inquisitors that worked under his banner were another manner. Thorough, vicious and zealous, but competent from what I remembered. Still, there was no way for me to get word to them in time. We were on the edges of the King’s land, far away from any city of relevance.

Who could I turn to? Many of the people I would have trusted, and gone to for help were revealed as traitors. Helcor was the town’s law, the scarred jailer carrying out the will and writ of Lord Konada. Or so it would seem. I needed to steer clear of him and his deputies. They would haunt my usual hangouts. Likely come by the house and ask to speak to me, come morning. He was a careful, calculating man, one averse to risks. Avoiding his grasp would be a chore, I reckoned.

No, not a chore. I thought to myself, almost viciously. It would be crucial. This was not some drunken game my younger, useless self would indulge in. This was life or death, lest there come darkness for my people.

My people. I paused at the thought. For so long had I assumed responsibility for so many that to not be in a position of authority was strange. Countless lives had been entrusted unto me, and just as many had I let slip from my grasp through the years.

I would do better.

It was almost bitterly that I awoke and found myself downstairs at dawn’s light.

I could not wait for my parents to rouse themselves, and so I began the day. For too long had I taken their kindness and tolerance for granted. Even once I had reawoken, I did not share a loving moment with them. Now, I found myself cooking breakfast for them. A simple meal of sausage and vegetables, fit for any crusader’s table.

Thoughts invaded my mind as I sat alone, awaiting my parent’s rise.

Why did I do this? I had already endured a long life of hardship, of countless trials. Plagued by loss and regret and so much pain.

These thoughts were a weakness. Cracks in the iron will that had carried me so far. My mood turned vicious as I cast them out. I would bear this all again, if only because it was my duty. The primordial being had granted me another chance, and it would not be wasted wallowing in self-pity and woe. If I had not a reason to continue on, I would find one. Forge one, if needed.

I weighed whether I could tell my parents even as I heard them stir above. Inform them that they’re friends and relatives were secretly traitors who worshipped an ancient cult that had not stirred in centuries. It sounded ridiculous when I phrased it that way. Their drunk, lazy son, the hero of man and returned to save the world? Father might question how much I had drank last night.

There was little I could show them as proof. And so, though it pained me, I kept them in the dark. Ignorant to what was about to come. Not entirely.

The darkness upon my face turned to a smile as my mother emerged from the stairwell, rubbing at her eyes. She stopped and stared in surprise, caught flat-footed by the breakfast already prepared. Her fair eyes lit up, and tanned skin twitched into a smile.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Well, I’ll be,” She remarked. “What a surprise this is indeed.”

My father followed soon after, and though he did not share mother’s beaming smile, I could tell his mood had turned pleasant.

“I did not know you possessed the skills to cook.” He remarked. “Though it seems to have inflated your britches a little.”

It took a moment to sink in, and I bolted upright once the realization hit me. I had, simply out of habit, seated myself at the head of the table. Embarrassment was on my face while I mentally cursed myself for slipping up. Small mistakes like these might cost me.

I let myself enjoy this small moment. A simple thing like breakfast with my parents, in the comforts of my childhood home. The doom and gloom of the outside world could wait. It needn’t penetrate these walls, interrupt this short time of happiness I had garnered.

Father prepared to leave as soon as the meal was done. Dawn had broken, and his mill called. Try as I might to let them go and be happily unaware, I could not bring myself to do it.

“Something foul is afoot in the town.” I spoke, face serious.

“Oh? What’s occurred now?”

“I do not know.” I lied. “But there are people who aid whatever is happening.”

“And what is that? How do you know of this?” My father asked pointedly.

Yes, how did I, a known lout and drunkard, know about any of the town’s affairs?

“Some of Lord Konada’s men passed through yesterday.” I made up the tale as I went along. “I overheard them speak that Helcor was to be investigated soon. They were unhappy with the work that’s come from the mayor’s office, and those close to it.”

“A harsh accusation.” My mother noted, eyebrows raised.

“Hence why I’ve not spoken of it to anyone else. Yet it is my duty to pass this along to you, and hope you’ll heed it.”

With that, father departed for the day, a request left for me to join him at the mill. One we both knew would go unfilled.

There was one more thing I needed to do before I left for the day. My mother left int he kitchen, I hurried back upstairs to my room. Under the solid frame of my bed, I yanked out the bundle that had been there for a week now, if I remembered correctly. A sack of cloth that jingled with coin, material and other things I had once believed I needed to begin my journey. Coin I had stolen from my parents with the vague promise to myself that I would one day return and make up for it.

I could not risk this being found now. It would jeopardize my parent’s trust, could possibly lead to being the final straw that would have me kicked out. I would not have that unknown variable drifting around something that could go wrong and spoil my relationship at home. It was with great care that I crept into my parents' room, around the bed and towards the locked chest underneath my father’s side. Ears open, I opened it and slowly slid the coins back into their rightful place.

Mother bustled about in the kitchen, unaware of what occurred above her head. I had left the table and kitchen as-was, and it would take her some time to finish. She was a woman that, once she had started a task, refused to deviate until it was finished. Do it once and do it right, she oft repeated.

Once completed, I slunk back into my room and stashed the bundle back to its original spot. No sense in leaving it in the open to raise any unwelcome questions. Halfway back down the stairs, a sharp rap at the door froze my movements. From where I stood, I track my mother’s movement and heard her open it wide.

“Mrs. Farah.” Came the polite, soft voice of a man here to kill me. “I’m very sorry to disturb you and yours so early in the morning.”

“Nonsense, Helcor.” My mother beamed. “What came I do for you?”

The scarred, soft-spoken jailor, hand of the law in Novic and member of the Cult exchanged pleasantries with my unsuspecting mother and stepped inside, cap clutched in one large hand.

“Well, you see, I’ve come here because young Jacen been getting into trouble again. I wish I didn’t have to interfere, but the mayor’s finally had enough of his crowd. There’s only so much the decent folk can take, and after last night’s incident, they want some justice.”

“Incident?” My mother demanded. “What are you speaking of?”

“The boys got a little too drunk, from what I heard. Busted up the pub a bit, broke down a few doors. Scared some of the renters. I’d let it pass, but we have some very angry, very influential merchants who are furious with the mayor and demand somethin’ be done.”

He spoke all this in a soft tone, one laced with just the right amount of sympathy. Had I not been in my own shoes, I might have even believed him.

“Now, you know that I don’t hold much stock in outsiders tellin’ me what to do and who to throw in the brig. Especially not some rich an’ entitled city men. But orders are orders. Rest assured I won’t handle ‘em roughly and they’ll be back out and about just as soon as these parasites leave the town. But I have a duty and it has to be done.”

“Fine, I suppose.” My mother groaned. “Won’t be the first time he’s been in your cells anyhow.”

My heart froze, and I began to back up the stairway. Helcor was far, far too big and strong for me to fight without a weapon. I needed to run.

“He’s just set off for the mill with his father but a little while ago. If you hurry, you can catch them before they get started for the day.” She continued, tone laced with disappointment. “I’d wondered why he was so eager to get out of the house today. Shame.”

With a tip of his cap, heavy footsteps led the man back outside, and silence fell about the house once he had left.

They were hunting me, now. The dragon’s weyr did not do things without commitment.