FSE

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Chapter 1

The moon would not be out that night, leaving the evening falling into an ever deepening darkness only just beginning to be pierced by the faintest stars. Everything was indigo... the grass, the trees in the distance, the far hills. The people gathered on the hillside were only a slightly lighter shade in the dusk, but no torches were lit, no bonfire waited to be kindled. In eager anticipation, the people waited for the fullness of night so the ceremony could begin.

The actual festival had begun before sunrise. That was when last year's participants had found out if they had passed, or failed. Those who had failed were driven from the hill, removed from society and civilization. Most did not live to see the sun rise in the sky.

Adain did not want to be one of the Failed. He looked around at the other young men and women who were gathered on the hilltop, surrounded by their elders and waiting for their time to come to take their places as adults. Or, at least attempt to.

The passage to adulthood was not only a ceremony but a test to see if the person was worthy to remain with the People of the Land, and the Land itself. Ever since humans had almost destroyed their home by exploiting its gifts generations before--almost wiping out not only themselves but practically every living thing with them--making it to adulthood had taken on a new meaning in that it showed you could actually survive. Those who had made it through the treacherous and deadly times in the past brought about the Reknowing. It was led by a few exceptional visionaries who looked at the ruins of Earth and the Land and realized that there was no way civilization could continue to survive in modern ways or they would risk extinction; people walked away from their gadgets and conveniences and reconnected with the Land, the Earth, and the wild world.

The Reknowing, in time, led to a new discovery... more accurately, a rediscovery of what their ancestors had known. When humans began giving thanks to the Land for what was taken, the Land seemed to look after them. And in time, they reconnected with the spirits of the animals whose lives had to be sacrificed for them to survive. They met once again the Guardians of each forest--the spirits of river, tree, and rock--and became one with the world around them.

The Heart Festival, held during the hottest part of the summer during the day and night of the new moon, was a crucial aspect of the humans' new connection with their environment. As the darkness drew down even deeper, the Tenderfeet--those who had just turned thirteen years of age, called "Tenders" for short--that would take part that evening shuffled about and gave each other encouraging grins and tough arm punches to bolster the spirits of some, or perhaps intimidate some of the smaller ones. Each held under their arm a large glass jar with a cork top, and roughhouse as they might while they waited, no one messed with the jar of another.

Finally, the time grew close, and Adain stood on his tiptoes in anticipation as Grandma Fael, an ancient woman but one whose step was still strong, strode to stand in front of the assembled throng. Her long white hair, unbraided, hovered around her face in the light summer breeze like a ghost as she leaned on her staff, adjusted her animal skin clothing, and began to tell the traditional tale that preceded the ceremony every year.

"People of the Field, of the Cave, of the Forest, and of the Mountain, and all the places and habitats in between, our race is able to gather here tonight because in time past we found that we were not the warden of the Earth, but that the Earth was our warden, our sustainer, our parent. Without this realization, we would have remained at war with the Land to take by force what we needed, or simply wanted, and would have ultimately found our own destruction. By the blessings of the world, the Reknowing did not come too late, and we survived our impending annihilation as a species. For this, we give thanks."

Adain and the assembled crowd of Tenderfeet and onlookers repeated the words, "We give thanks," and Grandma Fael continued the narrative.

"After the Reknowing we left the cities, towns, structures, and the conveyances that were destroying the world, and again became one with it. We returned to the Land, became the People you see here today, and left everything behind to return to the Earth from which we had stolen it. The cities are falling, the metal is rusting, and it is once again becoming the Land that it was meant to be, not a false world that we ripped from this one. For our trespasses, we give apology."

"We give apology," the people echoed.

"With our new eyes, our new spirits, and our new hearts, we asked the Land to forgive us, and worked hard to prove our worth. The Land has been forgiving, and now we live in peace with it. We take only what we need--and we are thankful. We give back what we take, and the Land thanks us. And we have entered the Covenant that links the People to the spirits of the Land that gives us our life, and we rejoice."

"We are sorry for our errors, we are thankful for your acceptance, and we rejoice for the Covenant!"

Behind Grandma Fael, the woods began to move. The adults in the crowd gasped in reverence and awe as the bushes and branches parted and several forms moved to stand behind the elder, but the Tenderfeet saw nothing but rustling leaves. Not until they had completed their night's mission would they be able to perceive or hear the voices of the Guardians who had come to ensure the Covenant was upheld. Grandma Fael spoke for the Guardians, so all could understand.

"The Covenant was formed between the Land and the Humans to ensure that never again would our people exploit the plants, the animals, the soil, or the waters of Earth. By this agreement we are bound to protect as we are protected, to provide as we are provided for, and to respect, in order to be respected in return. Tonight we gather for one of the greatest binding aspects of the Covenant--the Heart Chase, where our young people are tested to see if they will uphold the Covenant in their adulthood. Guardians! Witness--we have gathered our young of thirteen years, the Tenderfeet of our People, to uphold their end of the bargain. Have the spirits gathered to uphold theirs?"

All eyes turned to the dark woods where, slowly, small, faint lights began to gather with a warm, ethereal glow. They hovered, some weaving slightly between the leaves as if seeking a better viewing spot. Before long there were dozens, then hundreds, of individual heatless flames waiting at the edge of the forest.

Grandma Fael nodded, and bowed to the invisible Guardians. She turned back to the crowd, and spread her arms toward the now nervous Tenderfeet, who dug their toes in the thick summer grass and grasped their glass jars tight. "Gather around, children," she said, speaking to them rather than the crowd. "Come, and I will tell you what will befall you tonight as you take your first step to adulthood."

Adain and the other young people slowly stepped forward, and sat at Grandma Fael's feet as was expected. There were around one hundred Tenderfeet, of all shapes, sizes, and colors, male and female, all thirteen years of age. But at this moment none felt as if they were on the verge of adulthood. They were scared, frightened children, relying on an adored adult to save their lives, which were very much in jeopardy for the next year.

"Tonight, children," Grandma Fael said gently, looking over the assembled gathering, "is the last time I will be able to rightly call you 'children'. Tonight you will go into the woods, and you will find, chase, and capture your Heart. It is the spirit of an animal who has given their life at some time for the good of humans; animals who lay down their life so we might eat, or make shelter, or make clothing or tools, or for our protection. There are animals there from all ages of time where humans and animals have lived together, from the great mammoth, to the first horses, to the cattle that lived in crowded feedlots and knew no freedom until their slaughter for our food set their spirits free. As part of the Covenant, you will go into the woods, and capture one of these Hearts, and care for it for a year. And during that year you will learn from it, as it will learn from you, and together you will grow in understanding of the relationship between the Land, the animals, and the Humans.

"But, as you are well aware, not all of you will survive this night. You go without light into the dark forest, where some of you will fail simply due to the hazards of the woods. And there are other dangers. The gold Hearts that you see waiting for you are the spirits of the beasts that wish to rejoin with humans, to work with them, learn from them, and grow into greater beings. Out there are also Hearts that grow an angry red; these Hearts are animals who resent the actions that Man has taken against them, and they will try to harm you. Some will try to trick you into thinking that they are strong, powerful Hearts that even with their anger, will make a strong ally through life if you can only tame it. Do not fall for these tricks, for they never, ever come to good. Others will lead you to injury, or perhaps even death.

"And finally, there are the black Hearts. These are the spirits of those who were killed for no reason. They were abused, beaten, hunted for fun and sport, and suffered with no benefit in their passing. They want nothing else but to see you die. In the darkness of the forest, they will be very difficult for you to spot, but believe me, they can see you just fine. Most of them are probably sated from feeding on the Failed from this morning's ceremony, but there may still be some about, because they know that you will be out in the woods seeking. You will be in grave danger out there."

Adain swallowed heavily, his stomach dancing with excitement and fear. The Heart Chase was what every child looked forward to their entire life, and dreaded. Now that the moment was upon him, he didn't know if he should be happy... or try to slink away and hide behind his mother. He had heard the stories of those who Failed in their capture, and they were terrifying. Perhaps being exiled from the People to try and survive on his own was preferable to the dangers that were definite and imminent.

Then again, he also knew no one survived on their own.

"Do not seek a particular Heart," Grandma Fael continued. "I know that all of you have dreamed of capturing the Heart of some magnificent beast, to come back triumphant with a lion, or a wooly rhinoceros, or a creature that you think will make you of high standing with the People. I tell you now, this is not the case. No one else can ever know for sure what animal's Heart you have captured, for only you can hear it speaking. You might capture the Heart of a snake, and tell your friends that you have captured an elephant, and they will never know if you are telling the truth. The only truth that really matters is the bond between yourself and the Heart you capture; all creatures are important to the Earth, from the smallest to the biggest, the weakest to the strongest. None can survive without the other, so do not feel that any is more deserving of your attention or respect than the other. You will not know what animal's Heart you are chasing until you have captured it, and once you have captured it, you are bound; you cannot let it go and seek another. To do so violates the Covenant, and your demise will be guaranteed. You will never make it out of the woods alive.

"Once you have captured your Heart, come back here by morning. Some choose to come back straight away; some choose to find a quiet spot and commune with their Heart in private before coming back to the People. It is your choice. But if you do not return by sunrise, we will begin singing your death songs.

"Take a few minutes to prepare. Steel yourselves, for tonight you leave your youth behind and become men and women, soon to be adults of the People. Those who survive, tomorrow we will meet and you will learn all that is expected of you in the next year."

With that, Grandma Fael left the crowd of seated Tenderfeet, walking over to the gathered adults. Some crowded around her nervously, and some mothers and small children cried. The Heart Chase was always difficult for families.

All of the seated Tenders began whispering to one another.

"I know I'll get a strong one," a burly boy grinned confidently. "My father said to chase the ones that run the hardest; they're always the toughest animals."

"Grandma Fael said you can never tell," one girl admonished him. "How do you know a slow one isn't some wise beast that is waiting for you and will be a great match?"

"They're all great matches," Adain said quietly. "That's the whole point; that any animal is as much a part of the Land as we are, and that we all support one another. There's no 'best animal'."

The burly boy laughed at him. "That's what you think," he scoffed. "When's the last time someone who captured the Heart of a grasshopper became a Village Chief?"

"How do you know there isn't one now?" the girl snapped, shifting her glass jar in her lap. "It's not like you can ask someone else's Heart what kind of animal they are. Maybe the Chief who says their Heart is a wolf really has the Heart of a... a squirrel or something. People lie about their Hearts all the time for all we know."

"Well, you go out and get yourself a cute fuzzy pony or whatever. I'll be coming back with a strong animal, I know it," the burly one gloated.

Someone at the edge of the group noticed Grandma Fael returning, and they all stood as one. Adain felt light-headed. This was it. The moment he became a man, or died trying.

The burly one shoved the girl from behind, hissing at her, "Good luck, pony-girl." Another tall boy smacked the burly boy in the back of the head with the flat of his hand.

Grandma Fael stood before them, giving them one last look-over as the Tenders grasped their glass jars in front of them, balancing a bit on the balls of their feet in excitement. She raised her arms, the leather sleeves of her robes falling back to expose thin limbs veined in blue, and then dropped them with a loud "whoop!" that was picked up with yells and shrill cheering from the crowd of adults.

As one, the Tenders raced toward the woods.

The waiting Hearts danced lightly and suddenly, with an almost audible whoosh, they sped off between the trees, spreading out and hiding. This was all part of the ceremony; the Hearts would hide and try to elude the Tenderfeet, which ensured that only the ones who put in their full effort would capture a Heart. There was no easy way out of this one. Sometimes a Heart did sense something in a child they liked and made the chase a little easier to try to bind with their chosen Human, but as a general rule it was a massive game of Hide-and-Seek.

There was some jostling of the smaller runners as the larger, stronger ones pushed for the lead, but there was no fighting, no tripping, and no shoving, for to make anyone drop their jar on purpose was instant exile. It was not long before the Tenders reached the tree line, some leaping in with full abandon, others slowing down to a trot to watch their steps as best they could in the darkness, others pausing completely, taking a cautious look, and then only tentatively moving branches aside to enter the wood on tiptoes.

Adain slowed to a walk, but strode into the forest without stopping. He had heard the stories, and a Heart could be anywhere; just because they all disappeared as soon as the group descended upon them did not mean there was not one just around the next tree. Some other Tenders had the same idea, including the one that the burly boy had nicknamed Pony-girl; they nodded at each other as they split off onto their own paths.

As the forest closed around him, Adain could hear the yells and whoops of others who had found a Heart and were in full chase. Sometimes in the distance he would even see one of the golden orbs flitting through the trees, someone hot on its figurative heels with their glass jar uncapped and extended before them, hoping for the right moment where they could scoop up the Heart, seal the lid, and become counted as an adult. Adain still did not run. He kept a steady stride, patient, knowing that the excited and the reckless would wear themselves out. He had all night to capture his Heart.

An hour passed, and then two. It had only been a half hour into the hunt before the first yells of success were heard somewhere off to the west, and the first of the Tenders secured their place in the circle of adults of their people. Then there were two, then three, and then... a less enthusiastic scream as someone encountered something not quite as beneficial. No one ran to the Tender's aid, no adult would come crashing into the woods to help. They were on their own.

The forest was quieter now, as the first wave of adrenaline and excitement gave way to caution, stealth, and fear. As Adain crept over the rocks of a stream, placing each hand and foot carefully on the slimy stones, he saw something that made his heart jump into his throat and freeze him solid--a red Heart, drifting amongst the trees, looking, searching like a demonic eye. Slowly and oh so carefully, he lowered himself flat onto the rocks, trying to become invisible. The red Heart continued its search, drifting soundlessly, and suddenly stopped. Adain didn't breathe, didn't move a muscle, for fear that it had seen him but in an instant, it was zipping through the brush toward a figure in the distance. Adain tried to cry out a warning, but his voice was only a strangled squeak in his fear. Far off, the figure saw the red Heart racing closer and froze. Slowly it held something out before them--a captured Heart, its golden glow illuminating the glass jar in the person's hands. Inside the jar the Heart flared brightly, and the red Heart slowed, dimmed, and slunk away to seek other prey.

Adain allowed himself a deep breath before cautiously moving, creeping off the rocks by the stream in the opposite direction the red Heart had taken.

It was a good while before he felt confident enough to stop slinking through the underbrush and walk a bit more upright, though his head still turned constantly and he kept his footfalls as silent as possible. Half the night had passed, and his jar was still empty. He wasn't very concerned of failure, not just yet. At least not the failure of not catching a Heart, because there were hundreds of Hearts in the woods this evening and likely half of the Tenders who had started the hunt had finished it already. His fear was more corporeal. He had passed three bodies so far--Tenders that had Failed. Two had apparently met their deaths by the dangers of the dark, running off cliffs. One had the sunken-eyed, strangled look of its soul having been torn from his body... a black Heart had met this one, and taken its revenge on humans.

Adain hadn't paused or given remorse. They all knew it was possible; they all knew the rules.

Ahead, Adain saw a rise of stones, a jumble of massive rocks and boulders that would make a perfect hiding place for a Heart. Enough of the night had passed and now he had to seriously start hunting. He dropped into a crouch, uncorking his jar, and crept toward the outcropping.

The pile of rocks made numerous crannies and caves, some barely large enough for his fist, others large enough for a person to easily climb inside and make a comfortable home. It would have been a fun place to explore in the daylight, but this was no time for games. Adain peeked into every niche; his eyes peeled for the faintest glow, though he knew that a Heart could and often did dim itself as it hid. The Tender looked under one large boulder that had a sizable crawlspace underneath, and then stood to climb over it--finding himself face to face with a red Heart, pulsing like a livid wound in the darkness, only a handspan from his face.

He froze, not even daring to breathe, staring wide-eyed at what could easily be his doom. A red Heart could not actually kill you instantly, not like a black Heart did by sucking the very life out of you. A red Heart would harass you, slamming itself into you incessantly and leaving a horrid burn every time it did, each assault a reminder of the faults of humans past. And once one started, it did not stop. It would attack you, pound you, driving you before it until you found a way to escape... by drowning yourself, jumping off a cliff, or any other means of a nasty but final end. If you chose not to run, it killed you itself, burning you until you simply died from the pain. Very few youngsters survived an attack from a red Heart... the adults had their own Hearts to protect them, but occasionally, very rarely, a child under attack could make it back to their village where the Hearts of the adults would swarm and attack the red, driving it off.

But Hearts never destroyed one another. Even after death, no Heart would take the "life" of another Heart. Humans, of course, were another matter entirely.

Adain remained motionless, and the red Heart did as well. Perhaps it was waiting for him to make the first move, to start the chase that the red Heart knew it would win. Or perhaps it was playing a game with him. All Hearts could be crafty, and the red Heart knew that all it had to do to guarantee Adain's death was sit there and wait until sunrise; then, Adain would be forced to return without a captured Heart and would be one of the Failed, outcast to the wilds to be fed upon by the black Hearts.

They stared at one another, Adain's demise a preordained fate. It was just a matter of time.

Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of gold, a crackle like lightning, and something slammed into the red Heart, knocking it against the boulder. Adain didn't hesitate--he ran, scrambling over rocks to dive into one of the small caves, plastering himself against one of the side walls to hide. Gasping for breath, he leaned toward the cave opening just enough to see blinding flashes of red and gold as the red Heart fought back against its attacker. At one point he saw it zip past the cave opening, and Adain ducked back again, but not before he saw a gold Heart fly after it in hot pursuit. Against the opposite wall of the cave, the Tender could see the flashes of light alternating--red, gold, and red again, fading as the two Hearts took their battle further into the woods and away from his hiding place.

He gave himself several minutes before he allowed himself to sink down to the floor of the cave, his knees too weak to support him anymore. Adain hung his head, and turned the glass jar he still carried over in his hands. He had lost the cork lid somewhere outside in his flight. Without that lid, he could not capture a Heart. He had a some string in his pocket, and he could use a bit of leather from his boots as a lid he could tie on, but he wasn't sure it would be enough to hold a Heart in the jar; he'd never seen anyone return without the jar fully stoppered with the cork. He would have to go out and find the lid but... not yet. Not yet. The red Heart might still be out there, and it would be so hard to find the cork in the darkness, if he could find it at all.

For the first time in the Heart Chase, Adain felt nothing but despair.

He closed his eyes and lowered his forehead onto his knees as a faint light started to illuminate the cave. Morning. Adain was one of the Failed. His shoulders sagged, and he tried not to cry.

The light slowly grew brighter, and it took a while for Adain to notice that it cast a shadow underneath him. Not against the wall, as a light from outside would, but down, as a light from inside the cave would. Slowly he raised his head, and there, floating in front of him, was a gold Heart.

The Heart hovered, bobbing in the air, occasionally drifting a little closer before moving back to the center of the cave, as if it was examining him. Adain swallowed hard, trying to find his voice.

"You're the one who drove off the red Heart, aren't you?"

The gold Heart spun in a circle, zipping up to the ceiling, then zigging and zagging all over the inside of the cave, as if recreating a valiant battle. Finally it slowed, and came to a rest before Adain again. "Thank you," the boy whispered, and the Heart rolled slowly, dipping lower before rising again. Adain wasn't quite sure, but it almost looked as if the Heart was trying to bow. Adain couldn't believe it. He was sitting there talking to a wild Heart, and it seemed to be listening.

"Look," he said quietly, "I'm supposed to try to catch you, but I can't. I lost the lid to my jar..." Adain held it up a bit, to show the waiting Heart. "I... I don't think it would be fair to catch you after you just saved my life anyway, so I'm not even going to try. You should be free. So... I guess that's the only thanks I can give you for what you have done for me."

The Heart swayed silently from side to side, then slowly rose, floated over the lip of the open jar, and settled itself inside, glowing brightly.

"But... but..." Adain stammered, not knowing what to say. The Heart pulsed brightly, encouraging him. "But I lost the lid! I can't catch you until I cap the jar! I... I could tie on a cover but I don't know--" The Heart cut him off with a bright flash of light before it dimmed, waiting patiently.

Slowly, Adain lowered the jar to the ground, half expecting the Heart to go flying out as soon as he let it go. He took the bit of string from his pocket in his shorts, and with a sharp rock, tore a scrap of leather from the side of his boot. His mother would be upset, but given the circumstance, he did not have much of a choice. Adain rocked forward onto his knees, holding the leather in one hand and the string in the other. "Are you sure? You can still go free, you know... I haven't caught you so it won't count."

The Heart pulsed once, and stayed firmly inside the jar.

Adain carefully laid the leather scrap over the top, tying it into place with the string to seal the jar. He sat back again, lifting the jar in his hands, and looking inside at the golden Heart with amazement.

He had done it. He had caught a Heart.

Well, not really. You HAVE a Heart, but it's more like I caught you, isn't it?

Adain yelped, almost dropping the glass jar at the sound of the voice inside his head. The jar tumbled a little bit, but did not fall, and his mind was filled with an amused chuckle that was not his own.

"You... you talk?"

Of course! All Hearts can talk to their Humans after they are caught. Or in this case, choose to put themselves in a jar and let a lid be put on but details, details, details. What's your name?

"Um... A--Adain. Why did you save me? And why did you come back?"

Now hold up, introductions first. It's good to meet you, Adain. I hope you'll be a good Human and we won't have any of the nasty problems that some others have had in the past... I'm sure you've heard the stories. If not, I'm sure Grandma Fael will tell you in the morning.

"You know Grandma Fael?"

Introductions! We're getting ahead of ourselves! So, hello! I am Fenjine, and you are my fourth Human. Two of them lived to a ripe old age, and the third one... not so ripe. It was a bad match. Now, be sure you never tell my name to anyone else; that is our secret, and you'll hear all about that tomorrow.

Fenjine went silent, his golden glow waxing and waning slightly, until Adain remembered his manners. "Oh, um, nice to meet you," he said quietly.

Much better. Don't worry, I understand. That was not exactly a fun night out there, was it? To answer your questions, I drove off the red Heart because that is part of what we do. Those of us animal spirits who have chosen to become gold Hearts are bound to fight against those who would disrupt the balance of the Land. The red Hearts just want to spread discord and their hatred, and are no good for anything. The black Hearts... well, you know what they are all about so I won't go into that. So I drove the red Heart off because it is my sworn duty to do so. That, and you seemed like a good kid. Good head on your shoulders, staying put and thinking your way out of the situation without panicking.

"I... I was just too scared to move... actually..."

Fenjine's voice gave a little scoffing snort in Adain's mind. You see it as you'll see it; I'll see it as I did. For your second question, I came back to see if you were okay, and because like I said, you seemed pretty decent. I LIKE being with a Human and I haven't had a good one in years. You didn't have a Heart yet, which meant that you weren't out raging around the woods like a rabid bear looking for the first one you could catch because of some chip on your shoulder; you waited and played it safe. Good qualities. Smart kid. And you giving me the choice if I wanted to stay or go? That sealed it; I knew you had a good heart. And now you have an even better Heart! Fenjine's voice broke off into laughter at his own joke, and he cut off with a small cough. So! Any questions before we head back? Only an hour or two to sunrise, you know.

"Um... yeah..." Adain paused, licking his lips and running his hands through the thick mat of brown hair on his head. "I don't know if I'm allowed to ask but--"

What am I? Sure, asking is allowed. I'm a mouse.

Adain was completely taken aback. He hadn't expected a tiger, or even a dog, but... a mouse? "I thought that the animal spirits who became Hearts were ones that had given their lives to help people somehow. I don't understand... I mean, how..."

How did I die in the service of Humans? A man stepped on me and killed me.

"What? How did that serve humans?"

Fenjine's voice took on a bit of a proud quality. I was reckless. I had taken up residence in a stable, and I was living great, stealing the horse's grain. The man saw me running from the grain bag one day, and squashed me under his boot. Fenjine went quiet, waiting, but it was evident that Adain did not yet understand.I was stealing from humans. Every bit of grain I took was food from that horse, and that horse served a family that needed it to plow the fields. My death served humans by stopping my theft, and leaving the grain for the horse. I should have never stolen in the first place; there was a large, wild field and a forest nearby, and food was easy to find. I took the easy way out, and paid with my life. Serving as a Heart for Humans is my way of making up for my own weaknesses, and giving back what I had stolen.

"So, this is your repentance?"

Yes. Remember what Grandma Fael said--in the next year, you will learn from me, and I will learn from you. Maybe in the span of your life I'll finally learn enough to have repaid my debt and be able to move on. And maybe, just maybe, you'll learn enough from me to be a true Man of your People. I do hope we will make a good pairing.

Fenjine moved closer to the side of the jar closest to Adain, pressing against it, and Adain raised his hand to touch the jar.Okay, Fenjine instructed, now knock. Gently.

Adain complied, and felt an answering bump from inside the jar. Fenjine's laughter rang through his head again. There, now you know how to shake hands with a Heart. Or more like a fist-bump.

Adain laughed weakly, still coming to terms with this turn of events. It was definitely not the evening, the Heart Chase, or the outcome he had expected.

Dawn is coming. We had better get moving so you will make it back in time. Hold me high and I'll light your way.

And with that Adain, who had climbed into the cave a frightened child, walked out into the wood a man with the Heart of a mouse.