It was quiet up there, high on the mountain with but the sound of wind and the occasional bird call to distract a person. It was peaceful and pleasantly cool; even with the sun so close, the high altitude and coursing wind gave release from the summer heat. The young boy was beginning to drift, but his active mind made the process slow.

What of Tesseract? What of Glorall?

That was where his thoughts began to go as they did ever time he edged on sleep. There was that part of him, young though he was, that would dwell on the recent past. He had no idea why. Sure, he was angry about being uprooted, about the lands being taken from Rhoedias just after the death of her mate and child. Other child, he corrected himself before the thought carried itself off. He was all Rhoedias had left and she needed him more now than ever. She deserved to be called mother, even if he didn't feel deserving to be called "son".

The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.