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No. Nithel’s stomach twisted as the walls gave way, and different things took their place. He wanted to shut his eyes, but he didn’t think it was a good idea. Not when anyone could do anything.

Dragon. He had a faint remembrance of the dream that had put them in his knowledge. He’d told tales with the giant lizards as villains many a time since then.

And- Alessio. That was his name. Nithel sighed, glad he remembered the name for a reason he didn’t know. His shoulders relaxed a bit even as his chest tightened further. The place reeked of darkness. Images of Aden’s country split through his mind, abandoned children, maimed wives, charcoal the only thing left of homes. And altars… not unlike this one. He felt sick, and chills went up his arms.

He stood slowly, eyes running over everyone again, tense. He gave Alessio a cursory look; from what he remembered, the youth was a friend. In all the tales he’d told… The children loved Alessio. Remembering those firesides brought a touch of warmth inside him, but he mostly pushed it aside. This wasn’t the time. Nithel glanced around once more, wondering what others would do, then his eyes rested on the youth, wondering if he was a friend again.

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