The closer Arn came to the tower, the more it seemed a small town to him. The tower itself stood at the center of an imposing stone fort, around which were several other structures. It reminded him of the cities from old stories, where noble lords ruled over their surfs. From this far away, the people appeared as ants to him, moving in and out of the gates.

The tower stood at the very edge of the Ahotharo pass. Rolling white planes stretched beyond it, and a river flowed far in the distance.

The Arngosadar, Arn thought.

He guessed that the river was no less than half a day's worth of a journey beyond the tower.

Arn sought the Ahotharo path itself, for he travelled through the forest on orders from the ranger. Ekalin mapped his route for him; she insisted he travel through the woods - all things considered, he chose to listen. This time.

He found the small path - it descended a few hundred feet to his right and expanded to a fairly wide road as it did. A small group of travellers walked with two of the white horses. It could have been him and his father; fate had other plans for him, it seemed. Arn waited for the people to clear before descending to the path himself - he figured that approaching the tower from the forest would raise questions he rather not answer.

There wasn't an entrance or gate to speak of on the southern side of the Tower of Het. Just the road passing through the small town and towards the fort proper. No one paid him any mind, and he breathed with relief upon completing this part of his journey.

Arn entered a small square with an old wooden signpost at the center. One of the many old arrows pointed towards the Wondering Willow - the Inn where Ekalin told him to leave the supplies. On the way, he wondered about scanning his token and whether that would alert anyone. What could he do? He could stall, perhaps. He had enough food. What would happen once he left the tower, once he came to the river? He had to keep her supplies; he'd apologize later - this wouldn't be the worst thing he did.

Arn sighed - there wasn't going to be an easy meal and board after all. He pulled at the straps of his pack and marched through the fort's inner courtyard towards the northern gate. Half a day to the crossing, and from there, he'd get on one of the boats to - where was it Ekalin told him? Well, never mind, he had it on his map.

Arn bumped into a hooded figure; he must have been deep in thoughts not to see it.

"Sorry, sorry," Arn mumbled, but then the figure turned, and he looked under the hood.

"Not too early now, neither too late. Just in good time, isn't it?" the figure said in an all too familiar voice.

"What are you doing here?" Arn looked around. After everything that happened, he simply forgot about De'al. But now, the man was here, clearly looking for him.

"I see you've seen more; your eyes are better sighted, yet we are early too," he said in an uncomfortable sing-song tone.

"What are you saying? I can't understand anything that you say," Arn snapped.

"The cold is everpresent," De'al whispered, keeping the hood down so that only Arn could see his face. "It hears and sees; we should be elsewhere, then speak."

"Elsewhere? Like where? Do you think fewer people will see us inside one of the buildings? I se - hey!"

De'al had already started towards one of the buildings. With a start, Arn read the sign "Wondering Willow" well, if that wasn't an uncomfortable coincidence. De'al turned to shush him, then ducked in through the door. Arn cursed under his breath and followed. Why was he following? He couldn't say.

The Tavern looked and smelled much as any other he'd been to. He has lately been to quite a few, it seemed, his mother would have much to say about that. If she knew. With the noise and commotion, perhaps De'al had a point. Of course, whomever De'al wanted to avoid would have to be on top of them to eavesdrop - though who'd want to do that?

Arn spotted the dark blue hood in one of the booths and scurried to it. He had to dance out of the way of a few of the staff as they ran to and fro with trays and drinks.

"Speak," he said, thumping down on the seat opposite De'al's.

"Out of the chill, far from its ear, now is a better time to speak," De'al whispered.

"Elar'Saga keep me," Arn said. He had to get to the ship, and that was a half-day journey, yet here he was contending with a madman. A madman who had legendary powers.

"You've seen the ravens and the halls of dreams, and now it is time for me to join you," De'al said, his face uncharacteristically serious.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"You want to join me?" Arn repeated - the man nodded in response. "Hold on, you know about the ravens?" Arn asked, incredulous.

"Oh yes, I know. Only I, the raven, he is not seen by all yet, not yet."

"Do you have to speak this way?" Arn asked. De'al blinked in response; the two of them sat in silence. "Fine," Arn relented, "what are the halls of dreams?"

"It is where you've been, before and now as well. But now, now you seek your father."

"No, I'm not," Arn protested - but the idea took root in his thoughts. "I am going back to Nysaros."

"Too early once more?" De'al whispered, "no, no, I think not."

"What are you saying?" Arn barked.

"I am not early yet."

Arn held the man's gaze once more. Conversing with De'al drained him very quickly. However, De'al didn't seem to mind the silence and was oblivious to his own effect on Arn.

"Bears and wolves and ravens and all that there is," Arn swore. De'al motioned him to keep it down. "I am not going after my father; I have no idea where he went; he just left me alone in Ahotharo pass."

"Is that what you think, or is it your anger speaking?" De'al asked.

"It's not my anger. It's what I know because I was there."

"I am sighted, and my eyes can see - " De'al started.

"How did you do that - back at the cell, when you came through the earth and walls?" Arn interrupted.

De'al smiled and leaned back in his seat. He nodded. "Good question. I am here to explain. It is time, though it will take a while."

Arn waited, but the explanation didn't come. "Wait - you want to come with me to explain what you did back there?"

"Yes, and more. You must see more and hear more."

"I don't have time for this, you're scheming something, I know it - maybe this strange way you speak is just an act, huh? I wasted too much time; I need to go to the docks, I need to get out of here."

De'al grabbed Arn and pulled him down, for he stood up, ready to leave.

"What?" Arn hissed.

The man was looking beyond him at something in the distance, "we must go," he said.

"That's what I said - and there is no we."

De'al stood up, surveyed the Tavern, then pulled Arn after himself. They passed through the kitchen and several apathetic cooks, then through another door into a dark narrow hallway, and finally out the back entrance of the Tavern.

"Why?" Arn asked De'al.

"They came - better not be so easily seen just yet. Too early for you. Follow me."

"What - who? Who came? What are you talking about?" Arn followed despite himself.

"The Inspectorate," De'al whispered.

"How did you know?"

"I know," De'al replied flatly.

After that, the man wouldn't say anything more. So they continued on out of the keep and the small town, down a road Arn'd never have found himself. It was barely a road in truth, just a path in the snow. He wasn't sure why he continued to follow De'al. Arn looked to the left at the docks barely visible in the far distance. Did he intend for them to walk along the river the entire way there? That would take months - and when did he start thinking of the journey as 'them'?

Arn grabbed De'al by the arm "stop, you need to explain where the bear piss we're going."

The man smiled, unconcerned about the manner he was addressed "to a boat."

"No, no," Arn said, then waved towards the docks that lay far to the north, "the boat is over there. You're going away from the boat."

"Too many eyes by that boat, too many ears. We must seek a less watched boat. Come."

"You have a boat stashed somewhere down the river? How long have you been planning this? How did you even - " then Arn stopped, rage flaring in him, the familiar warmth washing over him. De'al must have sensed something because he turned to Arn a few paces later.

"If you prepared a boat, you knew I was coming - how could you know?" Arn asked, barely containing his anger.

"I knew, as I knew your cell in Kalarhan."

"She said that avalanches are unlikely in the pass because she clears it, then another happened in the valley. I've seen you, I've seen you move the earth and, and - was it, it was you, wasn't it?" Arn cried, "you did it!"

"No."

"Yes. You're lying to me," fist clenched, Arn stepped forward. "It was your fault; my father would still be here with me; none of this would have happened. What do you want from me?"

"I do not lie," De'al's face took on a severe look, more thoughtful and present than Arn'd seen the man at any of their encounters. The two watched each other for several seconds, long enough for Arn's emotions to subside somewhat.

"I spoke to you of the halls of dreams; some call it Aether. I am of that place more than I am of here. It is how I know where to be; alas, I can't tell you more just now."

Arn gasped; this wasn't what he expected to hear. "Are you a spirit?"

"No spirit. I am a man."

"People live in the halls, then?"

"No people live in those halls, none are born there, but some may find their death," De'al replied.

"Then, then - what, how are you - "

"Not of my own choice, but more I can't say."

"Then why are you here?"

"To find your father."

"Why would you want to help me find my father?"

"To help you see."

"He will help me see?"

A flash of irritation passed over De'al's face, "I will accompany you on the way to help you see that which you must see; it has to be so."

"Again - what, what happened?" Arn looked back to follow De'al's gaze.

The man suddenly focused on something behind them. "The Inspectorate found you. We need to get to the forest."

The forest was just visible far to the east; they'd have quite a trek across the foothills of the Grandfather Ridge. Arn looked back; a small group of people were visible in the distance, just near the Tower of Het.

"Maybe they found you," Arn said.

"Run ahead, and I will follow," De'al spoke clearly once again. There was a sharp light in his eyes, just like when he brought Arn to the forest from the cell in Kalarhan. Arn looked back at the man, then began jogging towards the trees. The Inspectorate would see them regardless. There was no cover, so what would it help?

The wind picked up and nearly blew his hat off; he held it down with a hand. Arn looked back - large plumes of snow lifted and flew in the air, rising high and wide like a thick fog. De'al lowered his arms and began jogging towards him. Arn watched the snow swirl in the air; the wind must be his doing too. Who was this man, of the Aether, not born of it? What did that mean?

"Go now," De'al ordered as he caught up, "don't tarry."