[Empire] The Return of Branwen Morrig

[Reggiejam]

When news of the Iron Gauntlet murder of Branwen Morrig reached Tir Amser each of the seasonal lords and ladies had been appalled and furious. While the concept of a baby or child was a foreign one to the Courts they had learned respect for the deference lent to the youth of mortalkind. Lady Deirma especially had come to respect and appreciate all life in her quiet studies of the teachings of the Children of the Earth which espoused preservation and encouragement of life above all else. For a Child every life was sacred and its loss a terrible blow. For an Aeldir every Aeldir life was sacred and protected by ancient pacts and vows intended to preserve the immortal people. The assassination of the child of Lord Winter was in direct violation both to Deirmas spiritual and secular beliefs which was why she had sent away immediately to the Union of Besina for documentation of the ritual uncovered by Oshenvar and Vinariun that had imbued their former leader's and their own souls within the Mahana de Rukha.

When it had arrived she had set forth west for Castle Eroton in Ambrose where the atrocity had taken place, sending a Midnight Augur ahead to bring a message to the child's mother. Have hope. Preserve the child. An Aeldir soul may never die. She too had sent messages to Lord Winter and the current Councilman of Besina requesting their presence at Eroton though she believed by the time they arrived the ritual would be over. It was better that way. The Old Gods and the Children held very divergent views. Deirmaknew if she explained her plan to Lord Winter and the power from which she would draw he was as liable to refuse the treatment as to demand the ritual be altered to favor the Old Gods and in so doing perhaps doom his own blood to eternal slumber. So too did she fear the Councilman of Besina would object to her plans to alter the ritual described by his predecessors for she planned to return the soul to its original body rather than to find another outlet for its residence. No, it was better this ritual remain in her own hands, shared only with the child's mother who she hoped would be willing to make the necessary sacrifice.

Deirma traveled alone save the crew of the ship whose loyalty was such that they remained silent and maintained respectful distance from their somber black-masked lady. She arrived from the north, traveling down the Shining Strait and making landfall in Askerville from which she acquired the services of a rapid carriage that took her to Castle Eroton. With travel time and the time it had taken to acquire the specifications of the Children ritual over a month had passed and quietly Deirma feared for the integrity of the body she would find. Perhaps it would not be capable of supporting the returned soul and even with the power of life and the Mahana de Rukha only so much might be restored. She did not know the funeral rituals of the Ambrosans but she hoped they included preservation of the body.

These thought filled her mind as she approached, a singular figure of black and orange, hailing the gates of Castle Eroton for entrance.

[PepperP.]

It was Polemarchos Pedyr Collins who alerted Baram to Lady Autumn's arrival. The Protos had been spending the dark Averginos evening with his family, as he had made a practice of since the murder of Branwen Morrig nearly a month before. He asked after his children often, to the tender bemusement of his wife. Their eldest sons were sixteen and nearly men grown, but the infanticide which had occurred within the very walls of his home had shaken him and much of his energy was spent in worry and enragement at the audacity of those who named themselves the Iron Gauntlet. Surprised by the unexpected arrival of such an important figure, he made his way to the inner gatehouse, where he was told the Lady had been made to wait.

"Apologies, My Lord. I would have shown her to your Solar myself but some of your new Nand guards suffer a bit of confusion regarding the new visitor protocols within the Nand homelands." Pedyr spoke contritely. King Ardashir had meant well sending a contingent of personal guards to Ambrose, but they had not yet grown accustomed to the Ambrosans generally cordial attitude towards foreigners.

"I'll speak with them personally." Baram sighed, hoping the normally proud Aeldir would not be overly offended by his new guards's unintentional slight. Both of the men's attentions were diverted as they spotted the figure of a woman racing at them from across the bailey. Baram's brows furrowed with concern as he recognized his cousin.

"Adelie what is the matter?" The Protos pushed her behind him and peered into the darkness from which she came as though he expected the baby assassin had returned to take care of the mother as well. Adelie was well out of breath from her sprint, but she shook her head,

"It is Autumn, she is here to see me My Lord." Baram noticed that she trembled as she spoke, though what was the cause of her unease was indiscernible. He thought it rather odd that the Lady of Autumn should come and see his cousin unannounced on a blustery winter eve, though odd happenings had followed Adelie since she had reunited with her mother at the Faith Summit. He would have been quite less surprised had Lord Winter knocked upon his door, he quite felt he owed the man some explanation on how the murderers could perform their fell deed under his own roof and felt no small measure of responsibility for the child's untimely demise. Another wave of unease turned to rage, the feeling had become all too familiar recently as he considered the child's death with an impotent fury. He looked down at his cousin, though she was quite tall for a young woman,

"Then come, and she shall treat with us both." Pedyr raised a well-trimmed eyebrow in silent askance and Baram shook his head in reply. The Polemarchos bowed and took his leave of the cousins, silently stroking his narrow beard in contemplation as he returned to the keep and his own wife.

Baram and Adelie arrived before the gatehouse within minutes, though the silence had stretched fraught between them until it seemed Adelie was like to burst from the tension.

"Wait, I must tell you first..." Adelie spoke hurriedly and though Baram turned to her immediately, they were interrupted by the bang of the heavy wooden door being opened brusquely at their approach. Two guards flanked the door and bowed to their Protos, the bright light of the inner room blinding them to its inhabitants momentarily as their eyes adjusted. As Baram blinked he discerned Lady Autumn, who's figure was bathed in a warm golden light. Whether it was from the hearth or a radiance that shone from within herself, he could not discern, though it dissipated as he blinked and his eyes adjusted.

"Lady Autumn, welcome to Castle Eroton. Please forgive my guards's uncustomary lack of hospitality. They're new." He spoke graciously though he sent a withering glance to the guards who still stood outside the door.

"To what do we owe the honor of this visit? I believe you know my cousin Adelie?" He framed this as a question, as he had not been privy to their acquaintance before this evening.

[Reggiejam]

If the western Aeldir lady was bothered by her treatment by the guards she did not show it. In fact, her whole demeanor seemed to be one of intense concentration and focus. Her bright red-orange eyes flicked between the Protos and his cousin before settling in a piercing gaze upon Baram.

"Lord Baram, I do not wish to be unkind in the face of your careful manners but I have come with a purpose whose details are fit only for your cousin, the Lady Adelie. I must impose the request of a private meeting with her that I might determine the full purpose of my arrival. Until we speak I can do no more than to answer that I have come as a sign of compassion for your loss and a herald of my northern peer."

Deirma did not wish to disclose her purpose to the lord or any besides Adelie for she did not wish a false or unfair hope to be pressed upon her arrival without the consent of the child's mother. She would be needed wholly for the ritual and it was best she make the choice Deirma would present without the pressures of others within her family weighing as guilt upon her decision.

[PepperP.]

Baram regarded Lady Autumn in stunned silence, quite taken aback at the urgency of the request which boiled down to "go away" in his own castle. He narrowed his eyes in annoyance though the grimness of Adelie's pallor gave him pause. He did not know what was going on, but the demeanor of both women was so serious and solemn he conceded against his own instincts.

"Very well. I shall await outside. I expect to be fully informed upon the matter shortly. Whatever this is." His words were curt as he turned to leave though there was no little concern for his cousin upon his face as he did so. The door closed behind him with a low boom.

"Please My Lady, you spoke of hope when I had none. Tell me, does it live still within my heart falsely or shall I dare to dream the impossible?" Adelie's tone was pleading, and the look of hope in her eyes begged for confirmation.

[Reggiejam]

Deirma reached out and took Adelie's hands in her own, walking the far younger woman over towards the hearth and its nearby seating. She sat with her together and her eyes locked with the young woman's own. She clasped Adelie's hands between her own as she spoke.

"I have come with the understanding and intent to return your child to this world," pausing only briefly she continued quickly, "I am a Child of the Earth, follower of the teachings from Dhuda Besina. These teachings include the ritual of resurrection used to restore holy Pralkemiri, Vinariun, and Oshenvar to this realm and place their souls within the Mahana de Rukha where they still guide the Children. I believe this ritual is repeatable and alterable that your child may be restored to life within its own form should it still yet exist."

She paused to allow Adelie a moment of composure. The Autumn Aeldir's eyes grew more intense now than they had been.

"To do this however will require sacrifice. One Aeldir and one human. I have lived for Ages, my reign as Lady Autumn has been prosperous but devoid of meaning. I am prepared to give my life that a future stalled might still be written both for respect of Lord Winter, Ambrose, and in deference to my spiritual teachings. Another must be willing to make the sacrifice however and until I know of another who will join me in this I cannot act."

Deirma let the unspoken question hang in the air between them.

[PepperP.]

Adelie's knowledge of the Dhuda Besina was little, and what she knew of the Children of the Earth less. Through the bright ray of hope that Lady Autumn had gifted her, she briefly wondered what Lord Morrig would think of his daughter being beholden to gods other than his own, and she wished fervently that he was here. Absent her lover's wisdom, she knew that her child's fate lie solely upon her own shoulders and she might have consented then and there but slowly the meaning of sacrifice seeped into her overwhelmed consciousness,

"Human sacrifice?" Her voice was a tremulous whisper as she stared into the flickering flames of the hearthfire.

"Do you mean to say that for my child to live, I must die? We must die?" Her dark eyes which were wide and tinged with fear and horror found Autumn's. How was it that the ancient creature who sat before came to her readily, a willing sacrifice to save her child? Must she not guard her wisdom and experience gained through her long life as jealously as Adelie's own instinct to preserve her young life fought the notion of her death? Slowly, tears welled in her eyes and streamed silently down her cheeks tracing wet lines of grief that shone in the firelight.

"A precious price we must pay." Her voice trailed off of its own volition, her unconscious will to live fighting her own mind.

"I am not brave like you." She found her voice but it was a whisper and she shuddered,

"Will Branwen be... well?" She asked weakly, unable to find the words to encompass the wholeness of a person's being which she wished restored to her daughter if this ordeal proved worth the price in lives paid.

[Reggiejam]

Deirma did not wish to correct the young girl on her aspect of bravery. Deirma was not brave at all, merely tired and well aware that to save the child of Lord Winter through the faith of the Children would serve well to protect and preserve her chosen faith for Ages to come. It was a calculated risk. A sacrifice that would gain favor beyond what she might curry in life. In truth her purposes were selfish as much as they were selfless. All this she thought but did not say as the eyes of the woman before her filled and overflowed with tears.

"I believe she will though I do not know for sure. The methods of the Children preserve the soul and return it to this realm and the healing of the earth might restore some manner of corporeal form but the matter of the body shall be important. I do not know how much can be restored if too much is lost. I do not mean to dwell upon the macabre but if another life is ready to be given what I must next see is the current state of the child."

Lady Autumn reached a hand up to grip the young Ambrosan woman's shoulder. Her own red-brown eyes remained stoic even in the face of a mother's pain. Her painted black mask made her as a specter of death come to resow what had already been reaped.

[PepperP.]

Adelie shivered uncontrollably beneath Autumn's solicitous grasp. A bleak look of resignation had replaced the light of hope within her dark eyes. Her gaze turned to the flames as she sat silently for a moment,

"I will take you to my daughter, then you can judge her state." Her legs were as weak as her voice as she tried to stand and sank back onto the hard wooden chair as they turned to water beneath her. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep, shaky breath that turned into a helpless sob as tears again streamed down her face.

She opened her eyes to Autumn's unwavering gaze and somehow found the strength to stand, made ashamed for her weakness in the face of Lady Autumn's stoicity. She pushed open the heavy doors and was immediately beset by her Protos who had been waiting in a state of impatient consternation. Seeing her own wretched state, he grabbed her shoulders and looked down at her with concern,

"Adelie tell me what this is about, now." His voice was stern but his words weren't quite a command as his hands unconsciously shook her gently in emphasis of his vexation.

"Remember when I told you that my daughter's body was sent to Lord Morrig for internment in the ways of the Old Gods?" Her eyes slid over to Autumn who had just exited the gatehouse behind her. Baram had thought little of it at the time when he had offered a ceremonial burial in the family crypt for the murdered babe, but had been informed by Adelie the child's father had other plans for her.

"Yes, I remember." He spoke hesitantly as though anticipating and dreading her next words.

"I lied." Her voice was contrite and yet hopeful at the same time.

"Where is she?" His voice this time lacked inflection as though he was having a hard time processing the swift turn of events.

"In the icehouse." Her voice was a whisper so horrified by her actions was she.

"The icehouse." Baram spoke woodenly.

"Your deceased daughter is in the icehouse." He spoke the words again as if hoping they might make more sense a second time around. He turned to Autumn with his palms raised before him as though silently asking her to make sense of this new information.

[Reggiejam]

"That was wise of you Adelie," Deirma nodded towards the young woman before turning to Baram, "I must see the body."

Her words were simple and direct though did little to enlighten the subject. She did not wish to tell the Protos of her plan both for reasons of deference to Adelie on breaching the subject with another and for fear that the Protos might intervene and halt her attempts. She had traveled here with little notice, less than five people knew why she had arrived. It would be disastrous for her, her Court, and the Children if all knew what she attempting and she failed. It might not even be permitted should the other Seasonal Lords object or the Protos in whose lands she stood. She hoped the ruler's cousin could convince him to allow the chance for his late niece.

[PepperP.]

Baram dropped his hands in exasperation.

"I am involved whether you want me or no. I am Adelie's kin and king, same as that babe." He turned from Autumn with a swirl of his red cloak and started across the bailey at a swift clip, not bothering to be sure the two women followed. By his direction, it was clear to Adelie that he made for the icehouse and she took Deirma's hand into her own trembling one,

"Come, My Lady." And followed her Protos, needing to trot to keep up with his purposeful pace. They soon left behind the well-lit, populated areas of the castle and as the sun disappeared into the horizon, they were plunged into darkness. The Protos impatiently plucked a torch from its sconce and led them on to the courtyard behind the kitchens, who's custodians had already retired for the day. They came to a small, unassuming domed building and Baram paused to look back at the women for the first time since the gatehouse. He looked as if he might speak, then changed his mind and shouldered the small door open and it creaked as if in protest of its rough treatment. He lifted the torch and turned to his cousin,

"Where?" In silent answer, Adelie stooped and entered the low building. Still in the depths of winter, it was filled with large blocks of ice and preserved meat and fruit. She had moved beyond the torch's reach though they could hear the rustling of her movements within. Shortly she emerged carrying a small wrapped bundle. She did not meet Baram's eyes as she knelt on the ground and began to unwrap the body of her dead child. Her hands shook and the wet droplets of her tears began to fall as she removed the oilcloth and wool that Branwen had been wrapped in with obvious care.

Baram was moved to pity as he regarded mother and child. The half-Aeldir babe had obviously enjoyed robust good health before her untimely demise, her small cheeks still held a plumpness to them, along with her tiny fists and legs. He noticed that the area beneath her eyes were dark along with the crescents of her nails. They had turned purple as she had been deprived of oxygen by her murderer.

"Adelie." Baram spoke softly, not entirely sure what he meant to say.

"We can still give her a funeral. A proper burial." His tone was gentle as though he sought to soothe her anguish.

"There will be a funeral, cousin. But it will not be hers." Adelie ran her fingers over the downy fuzz of her baby's head and sniffled as she looked up at Lady Autumn.

"I am ready. Let us do this thing before I lose my nerve." Baram looked at the two conspirators in perplexed bewilderment.

"What do you mean to do? What can you do?" The Protos had heard rumors of miracles being performed by gods in far off lands, and perhaps had even seen evidence of them himself in the guise of the spectre his Aunt Talisha had become. As a follower of the Doctrine, he did not worship any single god or pantheon and to think that life might be returned to the deceased was far beyond the scope of his experience and imagination.

[Reggiejam]

Deirma knelt to examine the body carefully. She lifted the small limbs of the deceased child, turning them carefully but coldly in examination. She was glad once more for the Midnight Augur and its speed in carrying messages and for Lord Winter's mistress in heeding instruction. The babe was well preserved for it and Autumn felt confident the soul could be restored to such a vessel with proper care. After a moment she nodded and looked up to meet Adelie's eyes with a look of confirmation before standing and turning to address the Protos.

"Unlike my fellow Seasonal Lords who adhere to the teachings of the Old Gods I am a Child of the Earth. The Children value nature, earth, and life above all else. Three holy leaders of the Children, Pralkemiri, Vinariun, and Oshenvar, died and were returned to this realm by the magic and knowledge of the Children. Their bodies were gone when the ritual was discovered and completed and so instead they joined the Mahana de Rukha where they still guide the Children."

Deirma paused as she revealed her beliefs to the Protos.

"I believe I can repeat this ritual but with restoration of life to this child. However, to appease life and death both for this rescinding a price must be paid. Two lives for the restoration of this one. I have lived many Ages. As Lady Autumn my reign has been fruitful. I do not desire retirement when my time comes to step down. I desire to serve my beliefs, that life is sacred, that assassination shall not be tolerated as an end, that the Children will protect the Aeldir just as the Old Gods do. My life I am prepared to give, now too is your cousin prepared for her own sacrifice that her child may breath again."

[PepperP.]

"This is madness." Baram spoke to nobody in particular as the women's attentions were still upon the examination of the dead babe.

"This is madness." He repeated, his hands on his hips for emphasis as he scowled down at the kneeling women. Adelie looked up at him at length, her face peaceful at last though still streaked with tears of grief.

"Yes, but it is also hope." She held his gaze for a long time until his look of abject revulsion was replaced by one of confused sorrow.

"I could forbid it." Though he spoke the words softly and without conviction.

"But you won't." Her words were equally soft though held the certitude that his own had lacked.

"How can you be so sure?" Despite his cousin's assurances to the contrary, he was not yet wholly convinced himself.

"What if this was Betty? Or Addie? Or Bryn?" Adelie spoke to defend the hope of her child's life fervently, appealing to Baram's instinct to protect his own young daughters.

"What would you do to save any of them?" She lifted the lifeless form of her child in her arms, rearranging the cloth neatly so that the baby seemed to be sleeping within her mother's arms.

"Anything." He hissed passionately, knowing he could never abandon his children to a premature death while there was still hope. As there seemed to be for Branwen. He swirled on Autumn, torn between resignation and fury at the one who had precipitated these grim events,

"What do you need?" He spoke through gritted teeth, though he knew his true fury was owed to the Iron Gauntlet. But no, they were a mere cat's paw. The true fiend was their sponsors, and Baram would see that they paid for this assault upon his family.

[Reggiejam]

"I shall need a place among the natural world. A grove or forest, secluded from prying eyes and containing a stump large enough to place the babe upon. I shall need carving tools capable of inscribing into wood."

She paused as she contemplated her next request.

"I shall also need two small blades. Daggers in length and sharp, sharp as they can be made."

She blinked slowly and studied the man's face noticing seemingly for the first time the anguish that wrestled across it.

"My final request is an allowance for privacy during the ritual. When you hear the cries of the child returned retrieve her but send only your most trusted men or yourself. My peer from the Winter Court as well as a representative of the Children sail here now. They shall aid you in doing with the reborn child what is deemed necessary. My body shall return with Lord Winter to be interred in Tir Amser. Your cousin will need a funeral prepared in your fashion."

[PepperP.]

" And if I don't hear the cries of the restored babe? What then? " Baram's words were harsh though it seemed to him they embarked upon an errand that must ultimately fail and he would not have either woman give their lives for naught, though he would not stop them either so long as they claimed hope.

[Reggiejam]

"Then we have failed and you shall need to prepare two funerals," Deirma answered without hesitation, "I do not ask for your belief Lord Baram. I believe the Demesne has done well to earn your people's trust but such trust may only go so far, I understand. If you do not trust me, if you do not believe me, if you do not have hope for this venture you need only say so and I shall return to Tir Amser. You are the king of Ambrose and I do not seek to oppose you. I seek to aid you and your family but I understand if my aid is too costly, too risky for your desires."

Deirma stood silently awaiting Baram's response but more importantly Adelie's defense she was sure to come. Another reason she had sought private communion with the girl. She knew the hope she brought would kindle a fire within her that would burn with more passion than any argument Deirma would be capable of making to the Protos.

[PepperP.]

"It is not trust in you I lack, Lady Deirma, but in your gods." Baram turned to Adelie and gently tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"Is your life not also valuable?" Adelie again looked near tears but she turned her face from her cousin to her babe who lie still and frozen in her arms,

"A life that I would live wondering if I might have saved my child. A life spent in guilt and sorrow of the past is no life at all." She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. Baram moved to encircle Adelie within his arms and kissed the top of her head lightly.

"I will return with what is needed and those I can trust. Go to the Whitewoods, I will meet you there." Baram turned and strode away. Quickly he faded into the darkness of the sleeping castle.

Adelie's gaze was steady as she spoke to Lady Autumn,

"Follow me, My Lady. I believe I know of a place that will meet the requirements." Baram had suggested the Whitewoods, and so Adelie led Lady Autumn to the woods which would see their demise. Adelie shivered at this thought, but it will see also life renewed. She clutched her baby to her chest in desperate hope. The Whitewoods were unmistakable, a sizable grove of myrrh trees appeared, their winter white branches bent towards them and shuddered in the wind as though eager hands reached out to grasp the women. The closer they came to the grove, the stronger the perfume of the tree's bark grew, scenting the air with their earthy and spicy fragrance.

[Reggiejam]

Deirma did not bother to correct the Protos that the Children held to no gods. While many within the Demesne called the Children worship of life and the natural earth as worship of the 'New God of the Aeldir' it was no more a pantheon or monotheology than the Doctrine. She watched with dispassionate eyes as Baram and Adelie once more sparred over the right of Adelie to give her life for her child. She watched the Protos' back as he left before turning at Adelie's voice and following the Ambrosan woman in silence as she was led to the Whitewoods.

She looked around in appreciation of the preserved and quiet wooded stretch of white branches. She lifted her hand and grazed the bending fingers of the trees with her own. She breathed deeply of the natural smell and listened quietly to the sounds of life running through the small grove. She wandered from Adelie through the white bark trunks until she saw the stump of a tree cut low. She approached it and knelt to touch its rings counting them quickly as she did. She brushed the leaves that had fluttered to rest upon its trunk away to reveal its flat surface and traced her fingers in intricate patterns over its flat circular surface.

She turned to look at Adelie and held her arms up and out in a wordless request for the child. For the first time since her arrival she smiled, a small and soft expression but filled with a peace and hope foreign to the situation.

[PepperP.]

Adelie clutched the cold, lifeless body of her child jealously to her chest for a moment. Put at ease by Autumn's kind smile, the young mother kissed her babe upon the forehead and handed her daughter gently to the waiting Aeldir. She hovered over Lady Autumn nervously as she gazed around the moonlit woods awaiting Baram's return. Soon she heard the rustle of several footsteps and Baram's voice called out to her.

"We're here!" She answered and watched three men enter the small clearing that Autumn had chosen amongst the myrrh trees. Baram had brought his two most trusted Polemarchos, Pedyr Collins and Nyle Drivas.

"Nyle.." Adelie's voice was strained, as involved as she had been in the hope of her child's resurrection, she had not thought of her brother.

"The Protos has told me everything." He moved to grasp his sister's shoulders and looked down into her eyes intently.

"You are certain you would go through with this, you are willing to trade your life for that of your child's? Have you thought how it might be for your daughter to grow up without a mother?" He looked at her with concern, his normally cool expression was anguished. Adelie's gaze slid to Baram for a moment before returning to her brother,

"So you do believe it will work?" Adelie asked, ignoring Nyle's voiced concerns. She had no answers for him, she knew only that she must try and give her child a chance at the life that was stolen from her. Nyle looked down at his sister, though his gaze was far away,

"I have seen the horrors and the mercies of many gods and many faiths." His gaze returned to her sadly,

"Yes, I believe it will work." His hands on her shoulders pulled her in and he held his sister for a long, quiet while as she cried silently on his shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric of his shirt as he stroked her back soothingly.

"I promised to take care of you." He had managed not to join her in tears, though his voice wavered despite himself.

"Take care of her." She pulled away from her brother's chest and nodded towards her babe.

"I will" His gaze followed Adelie's to Branwen and Lady Autumn.

"Promise me." Her voice was insistent through her tears.

"I promise." He gazed at her solemnly and kissing her forehead, released her. Pedyr approached Autumn and set down the requested items next to her,

"I believe this is what you asked for, My Lady." He spoke with the utmost politeness and presented to her two finely honed daggers and several wood chisels of varying sizes.

[Reggiejam]

With the babe's body in hand Deirma lay it upon the flat surface of the myrrh stump. Slowly she unwrapped the swaddled child until its pale cold flesh was unadorned. She stroked the fair soft hairs of the child's head with two fingers and leaned down to press a soft kiss upon the child's brow. She stayed by the child admiring her soft form as they waited in silence. At last Baram and his companions arrived and she watched the exchange between Adelie and her brother with apprehension. The enigmatic Duke Fox who had been so close with her predecessor and still wielded much influence within the Autumn Courtlands despite her attempts to sideline the impish Spring Boy had traveled with Nyle and on the occasion she and the Duke had to speak he had spoken highly of the Ambrosan boy. Strong-willed, quick witted, and destined for great things he had said. In truth Deirma feared what his reaction might be to her here to take his sister from him. The fear passed as he voiced acceptance and the other associate of the king approached her.

"Thank you," Deirma said as she took the tools from Pedyr and turned back to the stump.

Carefully she turned Branwen onto her stomach and with great caution took the chisel provided to the bark. Pushing away from the infant's lifeless form she meticulously carved four lines starting a handbreadth apart at the edges of the stump but converging at a single point beneath the child's face down mouth. She moved Branwen's head and carved a cup into the stump deep as half her thumb before returning the babe's head to its position so her lifeless lips dipped into the concavity. From the four central lines, each the width of a wrist at the edge of the stump, she carved intricate patterns she knew represented life, birth, death, and soul. These were the same symbols carved for the holy men of Dhuda Besina, altered only to direct the soul of Branwen to return to her body rather than to enter the holy tree.

At last the carving was done and she carefully dusted away the shavings and sawdust that had gathered. She carefully picked up the two knives that had been brought and turned to Adelie.

"Adelie it is time. Lords, I suggest you depart for now. This ritual shall call upon the natural magiks of the world. These are chaotic forces. While my work shall direct them and work them to return this child's soul to have others present risks disruption or confusion of the ritual."

[PepperP.]

Adelie's stomach dropped as she trembled mutely with fear. Baram and Nyle came to embrace her one last time and she clung to them as a drowning woman might cling to her rescuer. The rescue was not to be hers however, but her child's.

"Be brave, my sister." Nyle spoke his last words to her and kissed her forehead before he turned away so she would not see his grimace of pain. Baram could not bring himself to bid his cousin farewell, and so he embraced her one last time and spoke to her hope,

"Branwen will be well cared for, this I vow." His gaze was serious as he spoke into her eyes, trying to reassure her that all would be well if her child should find life anew in her mother's death. Both of their deaths. His gaze turned to Autumn and he stood regarding her for a moment before he moved to her side,

"I recognize the sacrifice you make for my kin, and I will see that the Lord of Winter knows it as well." He put his hand upon Autumn's shoulder and squeezed it briefly before he rejoined Nyle and Pedyr who had moved beyond the clearing.

Adelie knelt down next to Lady Autumn though she dare not let her gaze fall upon the dagger lest she lose her nerve.

"What now, My Lady?" She queried, though in her heart, she knew what was to come if not whether she might be strong enough to face it.

[Reggiejam]

Deirma nodded at Baram's words and watched as the three men departed. She turned as Adelie sought an answer. Quietly she reached out and took the woman's hands, one at a time, in her own turning them palm up and placing them in the divots she had carved.

"Relax," she said softly as she pushed the Ambrosan woman's sleeves up to reveal her soft flesh.

She set one of the knives between her arms which reached out palm upwards towards her deceased child. She mirrored the woman's position across the stump, the lifeless body of Branwen lying between them.

"Close your eyes. Think of your earliest memory. Think of your happiest moments. Remember them, hold on to them tightly in your mind. Think of the natural world. The endless cycle of life. Birth. Death. See that they are equal, each the end points to a greater whole. Each life itself only a segment of the greater whole. One ends and another begins. One begins and another ends."

"Remember your child's death. Remember your fury and anger. Remember your sadness and despair. Remember all of your most passionate emotions. These are the moments of true natural being. Remember these and know that you are but a piece of the greater whole."

She paused and the soft scrape of her own knife being lifted seemed to echo like thunder.

"Pick up the knife. See yourself as you have always been, a fragment of the whole. Here, in this grove you are more. You are one with the whole of the earth. Your child is as well. Though lifeless in this world her soul lives on. We shall enter the realm where her soul now resides. The world we occupy is deeper than what we see. For a moment we will glimpse its greater truth and together we shall usher your child back to her form. For her to return we must take her place. Balance must be maintained and our lives are the price demanded by this earth for her return."

"Open your eyes."

Deirma's red-brown eyes locked with Adelie's own. The Autumn Aeldir's face was stoic but sincere. The knife in her hand interrupted their view as she raised it.

"Open your arm, from elbow to wrist. Place your arms within the lines that our blood mingles and fills the etchings. When it fills the cup beneath your daughter's lips she shall breath her first new breath and we our last. When you are ready."

Deirma sat patiently awaiting the mortal woman's reaction, ready herself to draw the blade along her wrists. She had lived for Ages. She had seen many seasons in her long life. She had seen greed, power, and avarice. She had seen envy, scorn, and betrayal. She had seen them all, she had done them all. Sacrifice though. Sacrifice was new. In the Children she had found the idea of sacrifice. Of a greater purpose within this world. Not service to the Old Gods. Not sacrifice for its sake alone. Sacrifice that a child of the Aeldir might live. A worthy sacrifice.

[PepperP.]

Adelie trembled at Lady Autumn's touch though it was gentle and her hands warm. As Lady Deirma bid her, she close her eyes and thought of the most important moments of her short life. The feel of her beautiful mother's golden curls against her cheek. The first hug from her father when they met at Keya's Rest. Nyle's reassuring arm around her as they watched their parents love displayed below them as they sat atop a hill under a star splashed sky. Lord Morrig's weighted gaze that had followed her through the halls of Caer Gheimhridh and had resulted in her first kiss. Her first and only love. The joy of growing a new life within her and the pain of bringing that life into the world. She thought of all of these things and then her thoughts turned to finding her daughter dead in her crib, how the sorrow had turned to anger as she gazed at the coin of the Iron Gauntlet. Her infant had been marked for death by a coward.

Her dark eyes opened at the Lady's command, though now they held not fear but blazed with a mother's anger at being cheated what should have hers by right. She clung to her anger and Lady Autumn's words desperately. They must find her daughter's soul and bring it back to her. This was her goal and her purpose. She held the Lady of Autumn's gaze unflinchingly as her hand moved to take hold of her dagger in a shaky hand. She lifted it above her arm though her hand shook violently and she feared if she missed, she would not have the nerve to try again.

"Branwen must live. They must not win. They will not win." She summoned the image of the coin, lying atop her child, as cold and dead as the iron it was made of. A low sob escaped her lips as she plunged the dagger downwards. Her aim struck true and her flesh was pierced to the bone. She grunted in pain and shock and with the last of her coherent abilities, she jerked the blade towards her wrist and angled her ruined arm towards the grooves Autumn had carved into the wood. Almost as if in a dream, Adelie felt her cheek hit the surface of the stump. She found her eyes were level with her daughter and she prayed that Branwen would be the last thing she saw of the corporeal world.

[Reggiejam]

Deirma matched Adelie's plunging of the knife, drawing a long straight line that quickly overflowed with crimson. Her hand shook and scattered blood as she grabbed the knife from her unharmed arm and rose it trembling to draw the second line, less straight than the first. Both her arms rested in the grooves and she watched in fading fascination as the hot thick crimson poured out of her and filled the wooden lines, circling and spiraling like a river through twisting valleys. Blood spots darkened the light wood but were accent only to the thick streams and as her consciousness began to fade she watched the cup beneath Branwen's lips fill. Her own sight faded just as the liquid touched its staining mark upon the child's lip.



Darkness. Not an empty or cold darkness but the warm comforting darkness of a deep cave or a mother's womb. It was a natural darkness even and even in its emptiness it felt full of natural energy. In a moment Deirma realized she was a part of the darkness. Though she held no form of her own though without senses she could feel a true embodiment of herself. She thought of Adelie and suddenly she felt the other woman nearby. Each freshly drawn to join this midnight expanse of being. Without words they spoke and agreed to call for Branwen. What felt both eternal and instant and they were joined by a third. Small and scared by her summons. Calmed and peaceful by her mother's presence. A confused medley of emotions. A pure life. The duties of their arrival were pressing. Time was stalled but so quickened in this essence. As one both Aeldir and Ambrosan pushed upon the child and she was gone from their presence. In a blink they followed and ceased to be separate. At one with the world. The rocks, the grass, the myrrh of the grove, Aeldir, and Ambrosan were gone. Life continued.



The wailing cry of a child pierced the quiet grove. Baram, Nyle, and Pedyr would find the child Branwen lying upon the stump her lips red and wet with the blood of her mother and the Aeldir lady of the west. The intricate grooves carved into the pale tree stump were dark with crimson though it dripped down the sides in rivulets of black-red that looked as veins on the felled tree's trunk. Deirma lay slumped over the stump, her arms within the grooves and her skin pale with death. Her head was bowed as if in reverence to the screaming child and the tangled orange curls of her hair were stained in spots darker by her blood. Adelie too was slumped across the stump, her arms outstretched towards her child whose flailing hand had clung to her mother's lifeless finger seeking some method to pull herself from her place upon her stomach. Both women lay in prostrated death but between them was a miracle. A child restored to life who cried and wiggled with life anew, unaware of having been dead and desperate for love and care away from this bloody stump in the middle of a grove of myrrh.

[PepperP.]

The three men had been standing tensely past the edge of the clearing, taking comfort in the other's presence though they stood in silence. Branwen's first cries came to them as a clap of thunder from a clear sky. They raced into the clearing, Baram's instincts afforded to him from siring his own seven children urged him to pluck the restored child from the stump, pulling her tiny fist from around her mother's finger. He cradled her in his arms and cleaned the blood from around her wailing lips as he wrapped her in his cloak and tried to soothe the babe with coos and gentle rocking. As he was tending to the infant, Nyle and Pedyr confirmed that the women were dead. Baram and Nyle briefly exchanged an anguished glance,

"Take them to rest in the undercroft for now. I must get the child to Belinda." He turned and left the carnage in the clearing without a backwards glance. His concern now was for the babe who's wails of distress had turned to whimpers as he tied to calm her cries. Baram felt a weariness descend upon him as he thought of repeating the grim tale of the child's return to his wife, and again to the babe's father. Belinda was still awake and looked with wonder upon the restored child as her husband handed Branwen to her. The child's cries began anew as the unfamiliar arms took her, though she was soothed once again as Belinda offered the babe her breast and Baram sat and began to recite his improbable tale.

[moossabi]

When Lady Autumn's request for the specifics of the resurrection ritual were sent to Councilman Akimil, it was obvious that she intended to use it to bring back Branwen. However, only the biggest conspiracy theorists in the Union could have predicted that she'd use herself for half of the sacrifice. Apparently there is indeed such a thing as a selfless Aeldir.

Akimil had abandoned the now-tradition of bringing along Gnoll guardsmen, instead relying solely on the crew of the merchant ship he hired for maximum efficiency. Can't have savages on diplomatic outings, especially when time is of the essence...

As the ship neared the Ambrosian coast, the councilman realized that this was actually the first time that the Union had interacted with the League's political body (the crazy person at the failed faith conference didn't really count). As such, when he arrived at castle Eroton, he tried to keep a calm, polite manner about himself despite the fact that Lord Winter was probably not far behind and would not take kindly to the Besinian ritual's involvement in the presumed death of Lady Autumn. His entourage consists of himself and a rather beefy sailor carrying two ornate urns in his arms.

[PepperP.]

Baram had been quite perturbed to be informed that he had yet another unexpected guest. Though the hour had grown well past the time of polite calling, upon hearing who the guest was, the Protos consented wearily to an audience and hurriedly washed and donned a fresh cotton shirt and the laurel crown. He met the newcomers in the great hall, his Polemarchos Pedyr Collins announced his attendance,

"Protos Archigos Baram Asker." Baram bid him with his eyes to stay and so the older man fell into place behind his Protos.

"Akimil. A pleasure, though unfortunate that we do not meet under more auspicious circumstances. I am assuming I owe your presence to Lady Deirma, though you must know that her task has been fulfilled and the good Lady now rests in the undercroft and her body awaits the return to her homeland." Silently he contemplated upon Lord Morrig's delayed arrival and what his response to all of this might be. Baram checked a weary sigh, it seemed this drear night might never end.

[moossabi]

Akimil let out a minor sigh. "I expected as much. But, sadly, there was probably no other way that it could end." Gesturing to the urns, he continues: "We have brought medicines from Evergale valley as a means of dealing with any unexpected side effects of this variant of the ritual, as it hasn't been truly tested yet. We may have been indirectly responsible for the sacrifice of one of your kind,* but we would like to try and help the child however we can."

If only Lady Autumn had been less hasty, transporting the child to Dhuda Besina for the mixed huan/Aeldir blood available would've prevented the unnecessary loss of life that seemed to have upset the man before him. But this was not the time to make judgments on the past; rather a time to respect those who gave their lives in the ordeal.


*He doesn't actually know who the other sacrifice-er was yet.

[PepperP.]

"Daughter of a queen, kin to a king and consort of another. I doubt I will see another of her kind within my lifetime." Baram silently collected himself for a moment,

"Do not fear that I hold you accountable for the brave acts of either Lady Deirma or my cousin. They entered into their heroic sacrifices fully cognizant of what they do. Though my own selfish wish for my cousin's life tempted me to disallow it, to witness true heroism is a rare gift and I am humbled by these women and by their courage and selflessness. Nobody may claim responsibility for that courage save for themselves." His eyes moved to the large urns,

"Thank you for the gifts, I will personally see that they reach the intended recipient should it be ever needed. She is currently resting comfortably and has shown no ill-effects from her trials. You are doubtless weary from your hasty journey as well, you are welcome to stay at the castle for the night. I can have rooms readied for you shortly, if that is your wish." Baram did not mean to seem inhospitable, though the hour was well past late and he suspected these would not be his last visitors of this interminable night.

[TheDarkDM]

In the night behind the Councilman from Dhuda Besina, another carriage neared Castle Eroton. Commissioned in dark of night from a terrified livery at the edge of the Ambrosan coast, it had traveled far to reach its destination. Yet the horses drawing it showed no sign of fatigue - indeed, they ran as if fresh and whole, a feat that might have seemed miraculous to a passing watcher. That is, until the watcher saw the terror barely restrained in the horses' eyes, the white knuckled grip of the driver, and saw the billowing wall of winter fog that followed in the carriage's wake. Beneath that seething cloud of moon-dark silver, flowers were transfigured into still crystalline sculptures, grass and moss to sparkling glass. They tinkled in the winds that birthed them, beautiful and dead beneath the fury of he that passed.

As the gates of the castle loomed ahead, the carriage finally slowed, though none could say whether it was exhaustion or the herculean effort of their driver that had calmed them. They stood shivering in the wan torchlight as the carriage door burst open, releasing a glittering-eyed figured swathed in black feathers. Lord Winter's heavy cloak hung still in the light breeze, only to come to life as the mist that had followed behind him enveloped him, flowing across black armor like water, lifting his cape until it seemed a pair of wings in truth. His eyes surveyed the watchers on the walls, as though pondering something, and his nostrils quivered as he scented the air. He had sensed it before the castle had come into view, the distinctive perfume of supernal power, raw and hungry and old. The energies of the world beyond the eternal mists of Tir Amser, brought to bear for some purpose that set the deathless lord on edge.

After what seemed hours, the Aeldir lord approached the gate. As he approached, the night seemed to follow him, as the flames of torch and lamp dimmed as if in deference. Above the castle came the flapping of wings and the chorus of ravens, though all fell to silence at the Lord Winter's whisper.

<"What has happened here?">

[PepperP.]

For the third time this night a guest was announced to Baram, though this time he had been expected. Pedyr's face was pale beneath his well groomed beard, his hand stroked it nervously as he spoke only three words to his Protos,

"He has come." No further explanation was needed and again Baram donned the laurel crown and pulled on his red cloak. Soft words were whispered to his wife before he departed their chambers, and a quick look at the babe who was the epicenter of these formidable events. The child of Lord Winter slept beside Giovanna who had her nestled in the crook of her arm as they lay together on their bed. The men made quickly to Baram's solar where Pedyr had successfully convinced the Nand guards to lead the Lord of Winter.

"Protos," Pedyr's tone was urgent, though it trailed off as the men stood and stared in mutual astonishment at the frost with covered the iron fixtures on the room's wooden door. The two guards which flanked it were obviously disturbed by the inhabitants, and made to reach for their swords nervously as if to check they remained at their sides for comfort. Baram frowned, but understood that winter was anathema to the Nand and Lord Winter its very embodiment.

"Lord Winter is not our enemy today." He spoke to reassure the guards with more confidence than he felt, in no small part for his own benefit as well as theirs. The last he had seen of Lord Winter, he had been the very epitome of hauteur and triumph, having secured Queen Aris's fealty and that of her lands at the ill-fated Faith Summit. He strode forward confidently and the guards opened the door though he could see that they loathed to touch its supernatural chill. As he entered the room his breath plumed in billows of white vapor and his flesh broke out into goosebumps beneath his thick cloak. Lord Winter stood outlined by the hearthfire, a black void in the shape of a man. Featureless in the black shadow in which he cast upon himself but for the ephemerous mist that clung about him which would coalesce momentarily and somehow seemed at once both human and devoid of humanity.

"Welcome to Castle Eroton, Lord Morrig. It is my pleasure to inform you that your child lives, and my burden to inform you of the price of that life." Baram's demeanor was suitably solemn, a sentiment he had no need to feign as it had remained with him since Lord Winter's babe was slain in her crib beneath his castle's roof. He had long known this audience was due and had mentally fortified himself for it. Even so, he found himself little prepared for the reality of the man before him as he defied mundane notions of reality with his very being.

[TheDarkDM]

The response of the Aeldir Lord was long in coming, his attention fixed on the black core the writhed in the center of the hearthfire. When his response did come, it was in a whisper, but one that filled the room with jagged echoes. More disconcertingly, beneath the frigid voice of the Lord Winter, the Protos could almost discern a second voice, perhaps even the echo of a third.

<"She lives?">

Black eyes that radiated with unearthly chill turned towards Baram, and as they did so too did the blue eyes of those things drifting soundlessly through the room. Dozens of eyes, orbs of disembodied fire that made clear Lord Winter had not traveled alone.

<"What has been done here, Protos? What price has been paid?">

He stepped forward, and the shadows of the room loomed in stark and twisted relief.

<"And to whom?">

[PepperP.]

From the corner of his eye, Baram could see Pedyr flinch away from the oncoming shadows and its watchful eyes. Baram ignored the Lord's spectres and stepped closer, the waves of intense cold that emanated from Lord Winter sank into his bones and made him shiver slightly. It seemed it might be an unconscious manifestation of the man's distress and he thought mournfully that he had little news that might ease it.

"Lady Deirma arrived just this past evening. I have come to understand that Lady Autumn is the public face of the Aeldir, composed and cordial. Last night, she came as neither of these things, but her demeanor was harried and furtive. She called upon Adelie and would but speak to my cousin alone. It seems the Lady of Autumn had converted to a Child of the Earth, and had rushed here to wield her magic in the name of your babe. However it seems that the faith of the Children holds an incongruous dichotomy, in that it requires the lives of two to restore the life of one. Adelie and Lady Deirma took their own lives willingly, so that Branwen might yet live." To his credit, Baram's voice had remained impassive throughout his tale though he knew not what Balor's response to the death of his consort and a Seasonal Lady within his lands might be.

"Whatever its source, the ritual was successful in restoring your daughter to life. Branwen is hale and well, resting with my wife at the moment, though she may be summoned if that is your wish. Adelie and Lady Deirma have been laid by. It was Lady Autumn's wish that her corpse be removed to her homelands for proper interment. We will of course give Adelie the service due a hero and my kin. She will rest in the family crypt. If you would like to see them before you reunite with your babe, that may also be arranged." Baram finished and stood silently, only realizing that he held his breath when it grew short and he exhaled, the large cloud of vapor that escaped his lips belied his nerves to the Lord.

[TheDarkDM]

Lord Winter's eyes flared wide at mention of the former Lady Autumn, all light seeming to vanish as his shadow exploded out to engulf the room.

<"The Children of the Earth!?">

His voice resounded through the room with apocalyptic force, and it seemed for a moment that the Aeldir lord had lost control entire. But rather than advance, he fell back, forcing his eyes closed with an sigh. Light came rushing back to the room, and the Lord Winter diminished back to the form Baram was familiar with. When his eyes opened, they remained inscrutable, but grief tinged his words and his voice no longer echoed with the souls dwelling inside him.

<"I would see my daughter, Protos.">

[PepperP.]

Baram remained steadfast as the darkness of Lord Winter's being engulfed him. Blind for a moment that stretched out interminably, he blinked as the Aeldir regained control and the shadow retreated and returned his sight to him. It seemed that Lady Autumn had been right in keeping the knowledge of her conversion and subsequent sacrifice from the Lord of Winter. The Protos could hear his heart beating in his ears and he fought to ignore the adrenaline that had overrun his system at Winter's ire. He looked over to Pedyr. The older man had shrunk from the darkness, his face pale and drawn with fear. Collins was a bureaucratic clan, Pedyr himself was Steward and an especially brilliant economist, but his clan was not known for its bravery. His gaze returned to the Aeldir Lord as he chose the living above the dead. He considered for a moment as if contemplating something,

"Then please, come with me." His eyes fell upon the spectres and he hesitated, though in the end said nothing of them. He would not insult Lord Morrig by requesting they stay here. If the man meant him harm he had been given ample time to cause it and he sorely doubted there was a wall in his castle that would keep the shrouded figures from where they meant to go. He turned and clasped Pedyr on the shoulder as he passed and the man collected himself and fell into step with his Protos. The Nand guards's hands fell to their swords as Lord Winter passed but they said nothing as their eyes followed the party suspiciously. They shortly arrived at his family's personal chambers, unaccosted at this early hour. His wife was seated on a corner of a plush sofa, a robe over her nightdress though her dark hair was mussed and her eyes were still puffy with sleep.

"Lord Morrig, my wife Giovanna de Altan Asker." Giovanna smiled gently at the imposing Lord, her sleepy disarray rendering her mien especially vulnerable. She looked down at the bundle she held in her arms and pulled it gently away from her body, revealing a small white pointed ear, and the soft downy fuzz of a newborn head. Branwen fussed quietly at the sudden absence of comforting breast and reached up towards Giovanna's face. The Archess cooed at the babe softly to reassure her,

"Your daughter, Lord Morrig." She lifted the babe up in offering to her father.

[TheDarkDM]

The Aeldir regarded the child quietly for a time, before reaching down to take her in his arms. He held her as one might hold a crystal sculpture, the look in his eyes one of curiosity as much as wonder and affection. He raised a finger to her face, only to have it clutched by a chubby fist that he waggled about before looking back at Baram.

<"You have been forced to endure a dread burden, Protos. I am sorry that my child has drawn such pain to your doorstep. Yet I cannot help but celebrate her return, even as I mourn the death of her mother. She was a singular woman.">

He returned his daughter to the warm arms of the Protos' wife, then whispered to the shadows.

<"Talisha.">

At once, the unnaturally young figure of the Protos' aunt materialized in the darkness behind Lord Winter, her eyes betraying far more than her shrouded lord. Anger, yes, but also a sense of wonderment.

<"Protos, I would not take Branwen from your care. It was ever her mother's wish to raise her in Ambrose, that she not be lost to the beguiling dream of Tir Amser. But if you would allow it, I would have Talisha stay as guardian and as tutor in the ways of my people.">

[PepperP.]

Baram watched the Lord of Winter silently as he was reunited with his child. He tried to imagine what the Lord might be feeling and found that he could not. To lose a child, he thought, must be amongst the greatest losses one could bear. To mourn that child, and then have that child then returned to you was unfathomable and he was moved at the intimate scene between father and daughter. His eyes found his wife's and he saw that she too felt it as her eyes grew misty.

"You and Branwen are not to blame." He smiled though it was tinged with sadness. Though his child had brought death with her from Tir Amser, he could not fault the Lord for perusing his cousin, and for desiring what was natural for all men, his own legacy.

"Adelie is gone and the world is poorer for it, but it was her choice in the end, to save her child. Your child. As parents, we have the privilege of granting life to our children. Adelie granted Branwen life twice. That is not something one could regret, though she will be sorely missed." He thought of Nyle who was even now at his sister's side, he hadn't left it since he had found her in the clearing.

"Branwen's return is to be celebrated, if quietly for now. We do not know what fell fiends lurk amongst us, or who so desires the life of your child. What I do know is Ambrose will not rest until the murderer and fouler still, he who employed them no longer draw breath into their vile lungs. This I vow." Baram's anger was a volatile thing, hot and dangerous. It dissipated somewhat with the surprise at Lord Winter's behest that he raise his cousin's child in Ambrose. Momentarily humbled by the Aeldir's trust and determination to be true to his cousin's wishes, his eyes fell onto the unnatural form of his aunt.

"Aunt Talisha and Branwen are my kin. They are ever welcomed here." And so Baram readily accepted the woman that his father had cast away due to uncomfortable truths he might rather bury. She was not the timid woman that had left these halls, and perhaps no longer human at all but if his seven children had taught him anything, it was the importance of his family to him.

"You are welcomed here, Lord Morrig. To visit Branwen as you would. Though she will visit you once she's of an age." His eyes went back to the babe who had resumed nuzzling his wife contentedly.

"Would you like a room prepared for you and your... companions?" He realized he had almost spoke spectres out loud and had stumbled over his words. Lord Morrig had yet to see Lady Autumn and Adelie though Baram was unsure whether he should bring up his cousin again.