Tarun woke up the next morning soon after sunrise. Though he was warm and dry inside the sleeping bag Grodin had given him, Tarun noticed that the ground around him was damp to the touch. Had it rained in the night while he was sleeping? Tarun had heard about rain, but since he could not remember anything before his time with Shon in the desert, he did not know if he had ever actually seen rain before, and the thought excited him.

Tarun climbed out of his sleeping bag and put on his boots. As he stood up and stretched in the cool morning air, he inhaled deeply. The light, earthy smells of the slightly wet leaves, grass, and trees filled his lungs with the essence of the forest.

The feeling was completely alien to Tarun. Not a single corner of his mind caught any hint of familiarity from his surroundings, and yet somehow it all felt… right. As he took another deep breath he felt even more sure that he was in the right place, at least for the moment, and that surety left him feeling elated and strong.

Tarun looked down at where Shon was still sound asleep on the ground. Tarun was not surprised by this. He nearly always woke up before Shon did, though he often didn’t tell his friend how much earlier he arose. Tarun figured that with a head so much heavier with memories and magic, Shon needed the extra rest.

When Tarun saw how tightly Shon’s hood was wrapped around his head, he wondered if it had been a colder night than he had realized.

Not wanting to wake Shon, Tarun walked around the rest of the clearing to familiarize himself with his surroundings. The clearing looked much different in the daytime than it had the night before. The sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees, creating streaks of light against the dust and pollen in the air.

Tarun saw the stump on the ground where he had agreed to a rematch with Smitt, and saw drops of brown-red where his own blood had dripped down after his arm was cut by Smitt’s knife. Tarun put a hand on the bandage that Solimar had put on his arm before he went to sleep. He decided the elf must be quite skilled, because the cut on his arm did not hurt as much as he had expected.

Looking around, Tarun did not see Solimar anywhere, and wondered where the elf might be. He did not have to look far for the dwarf that Krall had called Piggy though. He was still asleep next to his large boar. He was amazed that the dwarf could look so comfortable snuggled up to an animal with hair so bristly.

As he continued to walk around the clearing, Tarun found an axe that one of the woodcutters had dropped during the fight the night before, and he picked it up. Gripping the handle with two hands, Tarun swung the axe around, imagining how he might fight off the woodcutters if they came back for another fight. At one point he swung wildly to his left and lost his grip on the axe. The axe head narrowly missed his foot, but left a noticeable gash across his left boot. Tarun held the axe behind his back and looked around to see if anyone had noticed his mistake.

Tarun walked over to the green wagon on the other side of the clearing to get a better look at it. He was amazed at the way that the dappled mix of greens and browns could cause the wagon to blend in so well with the vegetation behind it. As he got close, he saw a shape painted with another mixture of green and brown, as Krall emerged from the inside of the wagon wearing his traveling cloak.

As Krall finished stepping down from the wagon, the orc stretched his arms wide, inhaled deeply through his nose, and let out an invigorated howl. “EEYOWOWOWOH!” he sang to the morning air.

Tarun smiled to see the orc greet the new day with such enthusiasm and passion. Tarun began to respond with an excited “HRAAAAGH!” of his own, but stopped when he looked over and saw that Shon had awoken with a look of panic on his face. Tarun suddenly remembered that he was still holding the axe in his hands, and realized that his friend may have thought that Tarun and Krall were howling at each other, rather than the morning itself.

Tarun put down the axe and tried to think of the right words to explain the situation, but before he could, his mind was flooded with confusing images of trees and arrows and pig-beasts and savage orcs. Tarun looked over at Krall and saw him stumbling and clutching his head, but he couldn’t tell if what he saw was real or part of the confusing images around him. He heard snarls and snores and growls and squeals of pain. The world began to swim around his head.

Then just as quickly as it had begun, the sounds and images faded, and Tarun turned to see Solimar standing behind Shon, holding the Shon’s hood tightly over his whole head and gripping his throat with a choking hand. Tarun picked up the axe he had dropped a moment before. “Let him go!” Tarun shouted. “You’re hurting him!”

“Not until he calms down,” the elf coolly replied, holding firmly the struggling wizard.

Tarun began to advance and grip the axe in both hands, but he stopped and turned around when he heard Krall’s voice from behind call out, “Enough Solimar! Let him go! You’re hurting the boy, and you’re only going to make this worse.”

Solimar sneered at Krall, but a moment later the elf dropped Shon to the ground, leaving him coughing and gasping for air. Tarun immediately dropped the axe and ran to his friend’s side.

“Tell him to keep his grubby mind in his own thick head,” Solimar said, walking over to Krall. Tarun could not hear Solimar and Krall’s brief whispered conversation, but it was obviously heated. When it was over, Solimar shot another glare at Tarun and Shon, and then stalked off behind the wagon.

“I’m sorry about that Shon,” Tarun said as he patted his friend’s back and tried to help him regain his breath. “What was that? I’ve never seen you do anything like that before!”

“Forget about it,” Shon said between coughs in a much angrier tone than usual. “I just woke up from a terrible night’s sleep to find you and an orc roaring at one another.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Tarun said. “Krall and I were just… howling at the morning. We weren’t in any danger. But how did you use your magic like that, anyway?”

“I said forget about it!” Shon snapped. After a moment, Shon exhaled a long breath and began rubbing the sides of his head. “I’m sorry Tarun. I just had a terrible dream and I feel like I threw it up all over everybody.”

“Well I don’t think any real harm was done,” Tarun said in a reassuring tone. “Solimar looks angry, but that’s nothing new. Piggy looks like he got the worst of it. I think he was still asleep when it hit. It looks like Krall is trying to calm him down now.”

Shon continued to look down at the ground with his hood pulled over his head, not wanting to look at the others. “I think it’s time we sell the Dragon’s Bane and collect our payment. I’d like to be done with dragon hunters for a long time.”

“Are you going to be alright?” Tarun asked.

“I guess so,” Shon replied with a cough. “It’s just unsettling to be choked by such smooth hands.”

***

Things began to quickly calm down after the initial commotion settled, and the rest of the morning was considerably less eventful. Tarun even began to regain some of the excitement and optimism he had felt earlier that morning, especially when Krall began teaching Tarun various skills.

Krall had tried to smooth things over with everyone by revealing a box containing venison sausages they could share for breakfast once they got a fire going. With this in mind, he instructed Tarun and Shon to help him gather wood for the fire. When Tarun collected several pieces of wood that were too large for building a fire, Krall taught him how to use the axe properly to chop the wood without chopping off his own foot.

After gathering the wood, and chopping it into appropriate sizes, Krall taught Tarun how to stack the pieces of wood in a tower by alternating pairs of parallel sticks back and forth across each other. “It’s like building a pyramid out of a log cabin,” Krall had said. Tarun didn’t understand the reference, but he was impressed all the same.

After building the log cabin pyramid, Krall found some dry pine needles and leaves to put inside the small wooden structure. He instructed Tarun not to stuff it too full, or it would be too hard for air to get in and get the fire going.

Krall then produced a couple of small pieces of metal from a pouch on his belt, and struck them together to make sparks that began to make the dry needles and leaves smoke and crackle. Krall began to blow into the small fire, which produced more smoke. Tarun tried to help by blowing hard into the leaves, but Krall had to stop him before he put the small flames completely out. Krall softly blew again, and the fire began to pick up again.

“Stronger isn’t always better,” Krall told Tarun. “When the fire is still this small, a little gentleness goes a long way. There will be time for bellows and big logs later.”

Their efforts soon paid off, and before long there was a strong healthy fire in front of them. Krall retrieved a black iron skillet from the wagon, and the smells and sounds of sizzling sausages filled the morning air.

As the group ate their breakfast, Tarun tossed a branch onto the fire and watched the branches curl and crackle. “I’m surprised the wood was so dry,” Tarun said, “especially after it rained last night.”

Krall stopped eating his sausage mid-bite and stared at Tarun. “What are you talking about?” Krall asked. “It hasn’t rained in these woods for weeks.”

“But the ground and grass were wet when I woke up,” Tarun said.

“You mean the dew on the ground?” Krall asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s dew?” Tarun began to ask, but his voice was quickly interrupted by Shon cutting in loudly.

“Oh dew! Of course!” Shon said loudly. “We’re not used to seeing so much of it since we’re coming from the desert. Well that makes sense now!”

Krall stared at Tarun for a moment. “Do you really not know what dew is?” he asked.

Tarun looked back and forth between Krall’s and Shon’s faces. Shon’s expression seemed to indicate that something was wrong and that Tarun should lie, but Tarun could think of anything to say. Finally Tarun asked, “Is that bad? I didn’t mean to offend you, Krall.”

“Offend me?” Krall said sitting back on his log. “Who are you, boy? You’re obviously not stupid, so why do you know so little? It’s obvious your friend here doesn’t get around much, but at least he knows the basics. What’s your story?”

As Tarun prepared to speak, he heard Shon’s voice in his mind. Be careful, he said. I still don’t think we can trust these dragon hunters. We shouldn’t tell them too much.

When Tarun responded, he spoke out loud to both Shon and Krall. “There’s not that much to tell,” he said, “but I’ll tell you what I know.”

Tarun then proceeded to tell the dragon hunters about his experiences in Life’s Edge, and his lack of memory before that. He told them about his journey into the desert with Shon and Grodin, and their dangerous encounter with the mirages. Tarun explained his desire to leave Life’s Edge, and how Shon had agreed to accompany him. Because of some mental pleading from Shon, Tarun left out any mention of Shon’s parents or the Soul Trees in the valley that they were headed to.

When Tarun finished telling his story, Krall stared intensely at him for a long time, unconsciously chewing on the knuckles of his fingerless gloves while he thought. “Well,” he finally said, “you seem bright and you’re obviously strong. I think you’ve got a lot of potential, but no idea what to do with it. You two look out for one another, but this world is a lot bigger than that desert, and there’s plenty of dangers hidden at every turn. You boys seem pretty ill-equipped to face them alone.”

Krall’s serious expression brightened a bit and a smirk came to his lips. “So why not head for the danger head-on and learn how to be ready for it?” Krall asked. “How’d you like to be a dragon hunter?”