Secrets of the Wulfhearth

“You have begun,” I turned over a shovel of ashes in the hearth, raising a clouding stench of smoke, but beneath the shower glowed pinprick orange sparks. Upon this I breathed, and it devoured the nourishment with a grateful flicker.

Ulfr held the lantern aloft, providing light beside contorted shadows that crept and crouched amongst the furniture. Every motion of his hand sent the demons scurrying to new corners to perch and stare at my reviving efforts. Beyond the stuccoed timbers of the walls, rain danced, shimmering on the windowpanes to its own drumming upon the tin roof.

“It’s a little thing.” My apprentice spoke humbly, expectant, and I fulfilled it.

“It is a step. The road you walk is long and you decide how far you go, but you must relish every step, even the first, if the journey is to be worthwhile.”

The embers stirred, glowing like bronze. A tongue of flame licked the twigs, and the small dragon emerged, blinking at us and trembling.

“You never know what you will find along the way.”

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