"[i]Lye ier er...[/i]" The boy dug his fingers into the earth beside the large tomato plant, tiny beads of perspiration dotting his brow around the tangles of matted black hair. He wasn't sure what was more exhausting, the heat or the ritual, but either way it made for a rather miserable afternoon. "[i]I' ra fea kanu lye ilya...[/i]" The Elvish words flowed from his tongue and he could feel their energy resonate with the plants around him, like a subtle vibration in his very core that extended so far into the natural world that to contemplate it would make his head spin. He wasn't sure on 100% of the word's meanings but he had the whole thing down cold, Dorn had made sure he memorized every word and inflection perfectly if only so he had someone to share the arduous work with. "[i]lye ier i' atya'.[/i]" The ritual was complete and as the boy's bright hazel eyes glanced around at the garden plants, the crops so many villagers relied on for food, he did notice a few of them looked quite a bit healthier than when he'd started. With a heavy sigh, Dakin pushed himself back up to his feet, brushing the dirt from his hands onto the leather breaches that were looking awfully short these days. He was sure he'd get another 'growing like a weed' remark from Dorn when they met back home that evening, having split up that afternoon to tend as many gardens as possible, and the thought of hearing it was already making him cringe. Though he loved his adopted father dearly, the large man certainly seemed disconnected from Dakin's generation. Snatching up his thick, oaken walking staff from the nearby patch of grass where he'd left it, the young boy spun it over one hand and set it over his shoulders and neck, letting his arms hang lazily over it. The trek back to the village wasn't a long one, he could just barely see the southern corner of the large clay wall from the garden's edge, but still his aching legs were dreading the effort. "For all this work, Dorn had better cook up the rest of those fish for dinner tonight..." With a mutter to himself, Dakin Windwalker started off down the path with thoughts of a mouth-watering meal filling his mind. [center]**********[/center] Brisa was still deep in her work when she heard running steps coming her direction. She looked up startled as Autry, dragging Atrus by the arm, burst into the room. It was only then she heard the deep “bong bong bong” of the town’s alarm bells. Autry didn’t mince words. “You two! You know the drill. Hide. Now.” Her tone was calm but stern, Brisa knew that tone. But she hated the smell of wine, and she didn’t think it was likely the alarm was all that serious. Probably just a marauding troll. “Autry” she whined “they are cramped. And they smell funny.” Autry’s glare could have frozen a fire imp in mid flight. “Don’t argue with me child” she said. “I have to get to the town center.” Her voice was softer now, but far more stern and tinged with anger and something else. Autry rarely ever got angry but when she did there was no way to truely stand against it. She did not brooke arguement. “But Autry” Brisa protested, she was never one to take a hint, “Only the fighting men are to go to the village center. Your supposed to stay with us. What can you do?” “What I can do and what I cannot do is not your concern” Autry said evenly. Autry looked at her two apprentices. She did not let the fear show on her face. It would only worry them. “Both of you” she said, her voice odd now. “HIDE. SLEEP.” Brisa felt the commands roll through her bones. There was no way she could resist. Seasoned adventurers were hard pressed to resist commands from the enchantress that was "old" Autry. Meekly she walked over to one of the wine vats, climbed in, pulled the lid shut, and almost before she curled up inside she was deeply asleep. [center]**********[/center] The deep “bong” of the towns alarm bells radiated throughout the village as well as the surrounding environs. It had been a long time since the bells had been rung. Recently the town had been left alone, not even the trolls wanted to try and break through the town’s new clay brick walls. Despite this the sound was well known and everyone, men, women, and children, knew exactly what to do. Children were to drop everything and hide at the first good hiding place they could find. This was drilled into them from the moment they could walk and backed by the commands of any and all nearby adults. [center]**********[/center] Autry left the cellar, leaving the door open a crack. She would not lock or spell it. The less sealed up it looked the safer the children would be. She worried about them; but they would be safe enough. Her home was well warded. What she feared had come to pass, she was sure of it. She had warned Aheric about this. She quickly grabbed a few necessities she conjured a phantom steed, mounted, and galloped off towards the village center. She didn't go far before spotting a familiar form crouched beside the path, his ear turned to the village bells and his bright eyes darting about searching for the danger. "Dakin!" The ghostly mount reared at her mental command as her call made the boy spin on his heels and look up at her in shock. "Widow Autry?" He replied, unable to fully comprehend the old woman he'd imagined so frail and weak riding a glowing translucent horse. "What's going on!?" Knowing she hadn't the time to run the boy back to her cabin she simply dismounted and waved a hand in front of his face. "Sleep!" She commanded, instantly causing Dakin's eyes to shut and his body to go limp. Catching him in her arms before he could collapse, the 'old' woman looked about and spotted a large tree with a suitable hollow beneath its trunk to which she carefully dragged the unconscious boy. Laying him beside the ancient oak tree, so old the weight of its branches caused it to list to one side, she whispered a quick incantation and several massive roots came snaking out of the ground to wrap around Dakin's body. They gently dragged him into an empty space under the tree where he was instantly hidden from view, Satisfied with her work and confident the boy could get out once her spell had worn off, Autry wasted no time remounting her horse and pressing all the harder towards the village walls.