Mossflower country lay bathing in the radiant summer sun. A mild breeze blew through an open window at the Redwall Abbey, carrying hints of fruits from the orchard, and freshly baked bread from the kitchen. Abbot Titian stood at the sill and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the noontime sun on his face. The Abbot was a large, fit mouse, even in his old age. His grey whiskers twitched as his peaceful solitude was interrupted by three timid knocks at his door. He heard a floorboard in the hall creek, and some shuffling of bare paws.

"Hold it!" The Abbot turned and navigated through the messy room, which was littered with scrolls and books. He opened the door and gazed down the hall, where a supply closet door had just been shut. With a deep sigh, Titian approached the closet and opened it to find a younger, smaller mouse that acted to inspect a broom. He feigned surprise when the Abbot discovered his hiding place.

"Ah! Father Titian, my humblest apologies! I had a thought you may have left. I was just about to go looking for you elsewhere!" The young mouse spoke quickly, as if he had rehearsed it many times. He held the broom tightly in both paws, and uncomfortably shifted his weight from one leg to the next. Titian couldn't help but to chuckle.

"And, pray tell, Brother Hugo, were you retrieving a broom to whack me over the head with? As the hares would say, 'bad form, wot!'" He smiled then, hoping that the joke and a pleasant visage would disarm some of the tension. Brother Hugo was a young novice when Titian was in his prime, as the Champion of Redwall. To the regret of both, Hugo witnessed some substantial bloodshed. The mouse laughed along, and set the broom back against the wall before both mice walked back to Abbot Titian's room.

"Of course not, Father. I don't suppose that I could even have the chance to make a move against yourself! Although, I suppose if I were quick and sneaky..."

"Oh, don't say such things, or I'll have to fetch Martin's sword as a precaution!"

"Maybe it would be better if I were to use the sword of Martin! Mayhaps it would even out the odds!"

"Such lies! A badger lord wouldn't be able to fend you off if you carried the blade!"

Titian kept a respectful distance between them as they walked. He enjoyed their light-hearted banter, but he knew that the awkward mouse was still intimidated of him. Hugo fell silent as they entered the room, and accepted a stool that the Abbot cleared off for him. Even the chairs had old records piled on top of them. Titian sat behind his desk and frowned at the other mouse.

"What is troubling you, my friend?" His strong, jovial tone shifted to soft empathy. Hugo slumped in the stool, examining the floorboards and twiddling his feet. He remained silent for a bit, then spoke up, still avoiding eye contact.

"I've been having dreams again. Not good dreams, but bad, horrendous dreams. The dreams are so familiar, as though I have lived them before." The mouse clenched his paws together and failed to hold back a sob. "There is a lot of blood, Father Abbot, a lot of blood, and crying beasts, good and bad." Titian wiped a tear from his cheek.

"You need to calm down, Hugo. Come now, I'll walk you down to the infirmary. I think that Sister Chrys has some special mint to help calm the mind." He stood then, but froze to see Hugo's eyes locked with his. The light from the sun seemed to grow dimmer as he stood, transfixed on the wide, shocked eyes of Brother Hugo staring right through him.

"There was something new about the last dream, though. There was a cloaked, hooded beast, I think a mouse. I felt as though I knew him very well. He approached me, and I felt so small and so humbled. I knew that I was safe." Both mice held still, staring at each other. Birds picked twigs and nuts from the orchard, and dibbuns played in the yard. The cooks continued to prepare lunch, and a group of elders sat by the pond, telling fishing stories. Mossflower progressed on without a worry.

"I think there are going to be some bad times ahead of us, Father Abbot." Hugo stood and shuffled out of the room. Titian wrapped his arms around himself and turned to the window, gazing at the yard and impenetrable walls.

What could possibly be on the horizon for his peaceful abbey?