A letter bearing the crest of House Redwillow arrives at Castle Grastagg.   Queen Jocelyn, I apologize for writing again to you so soon, but I must share important news regarding the current conflict. The Lady of Dawn's Reverie entered Lonebeach Keep today and attempted to work her foul magic against me. Luckily, the Father-God has blessed me with strong protection against the magic of the mind, and I saw her for the intruder and wytch that she is. My guardsmen chased her throughout the keep but she was lucky enough to escape, and she appeared to be heading Westward, whether towards Cerise or even further West is uncertain. I have sent out two patrols of our men to track her down and capture her if able. Lord Redwillow still slumbers and we have begun to worry that it may be some form of curse. Our mages are keeping her healthy and cared for and we are seeking a remedy with what resources we can. No matter her condition, I will continue to protect this keep and ensure your will is carried out in the Western Steppes. As always, I am your loyal servant. May the Father God watch your path and protect your Kingdom. Ser Caius Thorn, Lord-Regent of Lonebeach Keep & Warden of the Eastern Steppes

A letter bearing the crest of House Redwillow arrives at Castle Grastagg.   Queen Jocelyn, I write to you on behalf of Lord Aephiryll Redwillow, as I am now the Lord-Regent of her hold. I am Ser Caius Thorn, a lesser cousin of both House Redwillow and House Kilvaro. I have been in Lord Redwillow's service ever since you granted her this hold, and prior to yesterday's events I was the captain of her personal guard. Without any further delay, I report to you everything that has conspired here. Lonebeach was attacked by a horde of bandits from Fort Gateport across the Great Lake. Lord Redwillow used the full extent of her magic to defeat them and sink their ships, but such efforts have left her unconscious for the past day with no signs of waking. As such, I have taken command of the keep and its forces. Despite my loyalty to Lord Redwillow, I share the concerns you express in your letter. Those of the Dreaming God cannot be trusted, and I believe they may have instigated this attack. As such, I have ordered all suspicious townsfolk, retainers, and travelers to be locked up for questioning, and I have put men loyal to me in charge of the various guard regiments. A pair of retainers, specifically those who had been working with Ser Doyle and Lord Redwillow regarding the surveillance of Von Derk, escaped during the chaotic battle, though I have sent men after them. I ask that you post bounties for both of them: Aldun Mreyv & Dortus Fohl. Both claimed to be Emeraldite by blood and had features to support it, blond haired and emerald eyed. Of course, if they are servants of the Dream, their very appearance could have been a trick. Please send word if you require anything of me. I am your loyal servant, and I swear to defend this keep and Lord Redwillow until such a time as she has woken and come back to her senses. It will take some time to repair the keep and ensure it remains protected from all threats to our people. I will send word as soon as Lord Redwillow wakes or in the event that our enemies make a move. May the Father-God watch your path and strike down your enemies, Ser Caius Thorn, Lord-Regent of Lonebeach Keep & Warden of the Eastern Steppes

Lady Aephiryll Redwillow sends two couriers with sealed letters on the two fastest horses of Lonebeach Hold. After hearing news from across the Steppes and taking in several dozen refugees, there is no time to waste in seeking to cool tensions and properly direct the anger of the Emeraldites.   Letter to Eastlake Lord Mikael, I write to you regarding the urgent matter of the recent attack and the subsequent chaos. I have taken several dozen of your people into my keep as refugees from the bloodshed, and I have received the news from our Queen-Regent. The idea that this tragedy was deliberate was hard to stomach but not unbelievable, even so, I must caution you that Lady June Nieroi of Dawn's Reverie is not the enemy she has been made out to be. You and I spoke previously some months ago about the topic of Lady Nieroi and Von Derk, and I in that time I have continued my investigation. There has been no sign of foul-play from Lady Nieroi or her people, though I have found nothing to call into question Von Derk's loyalties either. I believe the lack of evidence here points to both of their innocence, and my most trusted attendants have uncovered other answers to my questions. Before I continue, I must offer my condolences for both the loss of your son, Jonner, and the loss of your guard captain, Ser Doyle O'Hearthstead. Though I did not know your son personally, I was acquainted with Ser Doyle. He was a kind, joyful, and honest man, and he was working alongside my own attendants regarding the recent investigations and events. It was Ser Doyle himself who sent me word not a full day prior to his death. We had set a time to meet and discuss further, but the tragedy obviously prevented it. I have included the message he sent me, a brief, spoken warning that has only been spoken by him and one of my most trusted couriers: There are signs of Wytchcraft at work in Grastagg and across the Steppes. It is a strange curse-work that I have never seen. Let us meet tomorrow so that you can examine it yourself. As we were unable to meet, I could not examine what he uncovered. My courier states that Ser Doyle believed it too dangerous to be handled by anyone but himself. I plead that you will search his chambers and pray that you locate this evidence he gathered... though I fear with his death the wytches have left us with a dead-end. I know this is a trying time for you, from one Lord of the Steppes to another - this is a trying time for us all. I ask only that you trust in your allies. That you trust in the work Ser Doyle undertook for me. That you forgive me for not being able to protect him when it mattered most. Most of all, I ask that you protect your people who still live. Lady June's spells protected both Lonebeach and Wood's Edge from the curse-work of the wytches. I believe these are the same wytches that have kidnapped our King. I believe they have set us against each other, servants of Planu against servants of Ephales. I am writing to Queen-Regent Jocelyn too. I pray that you will support me in my endeavors. We must prevent war at all costs or none of our peoples will survive. Blessings of the Gods Upon You, Lady Aephiryll of House Redwillow, Lord of Lonebeach   PS - My men are gathering supplies to aid your own. Expect them by nightfall.       Letter to Grastagg Queen-Regent Jocelyn, I write to you regarding the urgent matter of the recent attack and the subsequent chaos. I have taken several dozen refugees into my own hold for their protection, and I have received your own warnings. The idea that this tragedy was deliberate was hard to stomach but not unbelievable, even so, I must caution you that Lady June Nieroi of Dawn's Reverie is not the enemy she has been made out to be. Over the past several months, I have kept a close watch on Lady Nieroi as well as Von Derk. I had my suspicions about both, but they appear to be unfounded. Lady Nieroi has only been spotted providing aid to the sick and troubled of both my hold and Wood's Edge, and my attendants have found no reason to doubt Von Derk's loyalties. Despite the lack of news regarding these two, there were other developments. I enlisted the help of Ser Doyle O'Hearthstead, a knight of Eastlake and one of the deceased from the tragic attack on our peoples. Not a full day prior to his death, he had sent word to me regarding his investigations. This is what he wrote: There are signs of Wytchcraft at work in Grastagg and across the Steppes. It is a strange curse-work that I have never seen. Let us meet tomorrow so that you can examine it yourself. He perished before we could meet and I have yet to locate these curse-work he had uncovered. I fear the wytches killed him in the chaos to hide the truth of their schemes. Queen-Regent, please, though there may be differences between you and Lady Nieroi, I pray to the gods that you will put them aside and focus on the real threat. I believe there are wytches turning you against one another so that the Steppes will erupt in bloodshed. I believe these are the same Wytches that have kidnapped your father, and I believe they will not rest until every single Emeraldite has perished. If we go to war now against Dawn's Reverie and the children of Ephales... then we will simply be falling into their hands. It should also be known that Lady Nieroi's own magic has protected many of your people. Both Lonebeach and Wood's Edge were spared from the recent attack due to her magical wards. Dream magic saved us from the curse-work of the wytches. If Lady Nieroi was truly a villain, her magic would not express such kindness and mercy, certainly not on loyal Emeraldites in your service. As I swore so long ago, I am your loyal servant. I will uphold my oath to protect my people and all the people of the Steppes. Please do not be tricked by some unseen curse-work. Please stand strong and protect your people. May the Gods Guide You to the Truth, Lady Aephiryll of House Redwillow, Lord of Lonebeach   PS - My men are gathering supplies to aid your own. Expect them by nightfall.

Aedem takes a long while, sounding out the letters as he reads. After a few hours, having finally read the entire letter, he scrawls a simple reply. Aedem of Aemethyll will fight. Alone or with others without companions.   He hands the note to a Crier in New Glint and continues to the market, eager to purchase more loam from Crusty.

Darkness. Everything dark. Everywhere hidden. The entire world within reach. The larval being floats in its albumen as it had for thousands of years, but it could tell today was different. Clearer. The millennia had passed on like a dream for so long that its sudden sobriety is jarring. Uncomfortable. The darkness, once familiar, now feels small. Everything feels like nothing. A poor imitation of nothing. The larval being's instincts stir.   Out. Out. Out.   The thoughts pound. They grow louder as countless generations speak all at one.   Break the wall. Escape the world. Discover the new.   The larval being pushes out, its limbs weakly pressed against the limits of the world. It is cold to touch. Mysterious. Frightening. The larval being begins to panic. To press harder. To thrash. To struggle in the darkness. As it does so, the stupor of its life fully falls away, and awareness sets in. It grows. More awake; more alive. Memories flood its brain. Voices, stories, sounds. Memories from millennia ago when voices still reached from the world beyond.   Child of Xossus, Child of Mine. There is no hurry. Grow big. Grow strong. Precious one, know that your time is coming.   The larval being calms, focusing on the words of the past. The sounds from the world beyond once made no sense, but now with the stirring of the mind came too the stirring of meaning. More memories flow through - more words from the past.   Warrior of Aemethyll, Pride of Xossus. What you are you must be. What you will be is what you are.   The larval being presses harder, now with conviction. It knows that it is finished here. It knows that the world beyond this false darkness is waiting. It knows that it must become what it will be. The Mother demands it.   Beloved Son, I will not be there when you awake. Grow strong and follow the guidance of your elders.   The larval being feels the walls around it crack and finally break, albumen spilling out along with the being itself. Without thinking, it crawls forth, through the tunnels, towards the light. As it emerges the sunlight streams down through the jungle canopy. The endless colors of Templehelm shock and delight the hatchling. The greenest greens. The reddest reds. The bluest blues. It looks out at it all, and a final memory surfaces.   Protector of Aemethyll, Pride of Xossus, Child of Mine - You inherit your ancestor's name and all the strength and pride that comes with it. I name you "Beloved" in the Old-Tongue. I name you Aedem.   The hatchling feels moisture well around its eyes. It wipes it away quickly. This jungle was humid after all. Its stomach growls and the hatchling descends, eager to hunt its first meal. Crawling through the underbrush, the memories' words echo. The hatchling holds them close, craving familiarity as it explores this strange, new, beautiful world.