The First Adoption
The boy screamed in pain, thrashing to stop the fire in his mind. The man hurried toward him from where he had watched the whole blaze, drawing the flames off the boy with a swift hand motion, like the dragging of a rope or the silencing of musicians. He knelt down next to the boy. The man met the boy's eyes, and spoke, "Orannis," as he pressed his hand to the boy's shoulder. The boy moaned, and the man waved his hand, putting the boy into a deep sleep. The man cut the boy's clothes off, and wrapped him in a sleek, clothlike material. He carried the boy away from the smoldering ruins of the town.
Sheltering in a cave during the storm, a man meditated. He opened his eyes and stared into his small cookfire without really seeing it, reflecting on the omens told him by the temple Elders, and those he had just seen. If they meant what he thought they did – and he was rarely wrong in these things – it could mean the end of life as he knew it. During a particularly loud crash of thunder, he suddenly focused on the flames. He thought he had just seen something – but maybe it was just a trick of the light. Yes, that was it...just a trick of the light. He shivered, and not because of the cool, windy, wet night. There it was again, and clearer. The thing was drawing nearer. He heard movement, and swung around to face the outside of the cave. He could see a misshapen figure in the blackness. It entered the cave, and in the weak firelight, he could see that it was not an it, but a he. The man approached the fire, and he scrambled out of the way. The man lay down his bundle by the fire, and knelt to tend it in such a way that he could not see what it was. He went to his pack and pulled out some food, and went about making soup, which he offered to the stranger. Finished with his mysterious bundle, the stranger nodded his thanks and accepted the bowl. He watched the man, and ventured, "I am Laren."
The stranger continued eating. Laren sighed and wrapped his cloak around himself in preparation for sleep. He glanced again nervously into the fire. The symbol flashed into his mind.
The stranger finished his bowl and laid it down. He watched Laren, and crept out of the cave when he was sure Laren was asleep. The bundle stirred fitfully behind him. He hesitated, then took an amulet off his neck and put it around the boy's tenderly. He left the cave, making sure his cloak was tight around him though the rain had died to a drizzle.
Niklaren Goldeye awoke with the dawn, seeing immediately that his nighttime visitor was gone – but had left a gift. Hesitantly, Niklaren unwrapped the bundle, and gasped at what he saw. It was a boy – but barely recognizable as such. The boy was so badly burned that by rights he should be dead, but Niklaren could see breath misting the bowl that he held to the boy's lips. The fire leapt and screamed the symbol at him, but Niklaren extinguished it and grabbed his pack. He bundled up the boy and hurried off with him to the Healers at Winding Circle Temple.