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The soft grass tickled the hatchling's paws as he bounded through the meadow. His small tail whipped around and took out ambitious weeds, leaving a wide trail of floral destruction in his wake.

He was a deus, brown scales, mottled with white because of his age, ran along his body from his fore and hind legs to his tail. A short mane of fur crested his spine and a pair of furry ears splayed upward in a clear display of haughtiness.

A rather tall stalk stopped him in his tracks. It was huge, the towering trunk of sickly green sprouted spined leaves every few claw-tips. At the top was a crown of death. Milky white spikes protruded from a hairy purple ball, where surely the lord of this great hold resided. He must think himself safe behind a wall of a thousand spears. Ha! He must never have heard of Gorner, second son of Tuivug! Bane of all weeds!

The grin on the hatchling's face turned to a murderous snarl. His small white fangs snapped around the body of the plant. It's tangy, milky blood oozed out from the many punctures. He yanked, and the spire of green flesh shook as a chunk was ripped off with a sickening 'crack.' The hatchling held the bleeding stem in his mouth as the ball of thorns drooped under its own weight. He let out a victorious growl, the smile on his snout one of ferocious triumph.

Yet his victory was short lived. With another 'crack' the heavily armed crown broke from the stem, flinging milky blood across the hatchling's snout. The ball of thorns fell until it met the scales of a paw, which it pierced through without effort.

The yowl that burst from the little hatchling's throat would have made a tree shudder. His small body curled in on itself. His other paw grasping the wrist of the penetrated one, and holding it close to his underbelly

Another deus burst from the trees across the meadow. His paws slapped against the earth and furry ears flicked up in concern as he sprinted to the hatchling

"What!? What happened?"

The bigger creature skidded to a halt next to his little brother. He hovered a worried claw over the hatchling's shaking back as his eyes frantically scanned for issues. When he found nothing overt he grasped a shoulder and wrenched the little one onto his back.

The yowling got louder, but the brother ignored it and grabbed the injured paw as soon as he saw the hundreds of pale spikes sticking out of it. The green ball that they had originated from had fallen off, leaving the thorns firmly embedded in his little brother's flesh. He sat down and used his other forepaw to begin picking them out one by one. His teeth ground as he tried to ignore the tears streaming down the hatchling's face.

Yet little one's cries grew in ferocity and agony until the eldest couldn't bear to pull out another spine.

"Gorner."

He waited for his brother to clam down, repeating his name every few tail-ticks followed by soothing 'shhhhh.' Finally the pain-riddled snout looked up at him with puffy eyes.

"Father will find out. Won't he? He'll be so angry he'll never let me play again!"

Gorner was about to start crying again, but the eldest caught his attention with a quick bark-

"Gorner! Father will not find out!"

He took a long breath to calm himself, his little brother watching him with wide eyes.

"We will walk back home before the sun even begins to set with grins on both of our snouts. Okay?"

The hatchling nodded and sniffled, responding with a small "okay."

"I just need you to open your mouth and close your eyes, okay?"

Gorner furrowed his brow.

"Why?"

"Because I need to pull out the rest of the thorns."

"NO! I can walk on it! It doesn't even hurt that bad! I-"

"Gorner!"

The older brother glared down at him.

"I need you to trust me, I promise if you do what I say. It will be over before you know it. I already pulled most of them out."

That was a lie, he had barely dented the number of milky spears sticking out of that small paw. But after a few ticks Gorner gave a small nod and did as his brother had instructed him. His eyes screwed shut and his mouth hung open. His whole body was tense.

"Bite down when it hurts, okay?"

"ohhai"

Gorner's attempt to respond with his still open mouth caused a smile on his older brother's snout. But it was short lived. The eldest took a deep breath and braced himself. He wished he had something to bite into as well.

As soon as he touched one of the spines he felt juvenile fangs slam down on his tail. He suppressed a gasp, and proceeded to pull out the thorn. The entire time his little brother's jaw increased its pressure on his tail. Gorner's fangs were too small to draw blood, he hoped, but the hatchling's jaw was strong enough to pinch the flesh of his tail against bone. He suffered through the pain, content with the fact that the agonized cries were sufficiently stifled.

Before long, a hundred thorns lay on the ground. And when the last one was pulled, the eldest quickly barked,

"Let go."

Gorner released the tail and grasped his claw. A weary but relieved smile on his snout. But his expression quickly soured. His good paw pressed the hurt one to his chest as if trying to hide it from view.

"Will father be angry?

Morni gave his brother a wooden look.

"Can you walk on it?"

The hatchling pressed his wounded paw on the ground a few times, testing it, then nodded his little snout.

"Good, then father will be none the wiser and you can keep coming out to the meadow to play. Now, let's head home."

Gorner rolled onto all fours and began to trot out of the meadow at an awkward gait. His hurt claw stepping lighter than the other three.

They followed a fast-flowing creek, paws treading in the damp leaves on its bank. It was past midday, and the sky was beginning to darken. Grey clouds rode the western winds, ready to break upon the mountains that loomed over their village. Through the sparse canopy of the forest Morni could spot the imposing hunks of rock. Hardy Sorill trees, a great wood for house building, climbed the mountainsides until their numbers thinned. The mountain peaks were visible for now, yet to be covered by the storm. Each had a head, a large, brittle, otherworldly thing that eagerly fed off rain clouds. Though they were impossible to see from the village or any surrounding hills, eldest Ullar had ascended to the peaks in his youth and confirmed their existence. Around the village fire he told of their bouldery skin, crumbling at the edges like frail rock. The 'cracks!' like snapping trunks as they spoke to each other across the vast distances between peaks. The deep rumbling sounds as their craggy heads broke from the mountain tops and were moved, open-mouthed, through the clouds by long, twisting necks.

Gorner gained an extra hop in his stride when his older brother pointed out the signs of a coming storm. His love for rain out-treading his limp and memory of pain Storms usually signaled the beginning of the wet winter months. The only one in the village who enjoyed this dreary, stormy time of year was Gorner.

Morni was happy to see his brother walking without the limp. Gorner had a tendency to worry and think over things too much. But like a hatchling chewing through toys, you just had to keep giving them new things to gnaw on so they didn't grind their growing fangs flat.

"Momo do you think winter will start early this year?"

Morni looked forward to see his little brother prancing along the edge of the creek. Just teasing the eroding bank to crumble under his paws.

"Gorner!"

Gorner froze mid-step. "What?"

Morni stalked up beside him and roughly bumped his shoulder. The smaller brother lost balance and began to tip over into the shallow, but rocky, creek. A spike of fear crossed Gorner's snout, but Morni grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back before he could fall.

They glared at each other for a second until Gorner succumbed with a roll of his eyes.

"You worry like mother sometimes." He said in a little voice, slightly hurt.

Then he kept walking ahead, farther away from the creek's edge this time.

Morni glared at his back for a tick, then sighed quietly and trotted up next to him.

He put a smile on his snout before speaking.

"You know, I saw the first mykyr of the season growing on a branch in the deep woods."

Gorner glanced sideways at him

"Really!? Where?"

"Oh, somewhere in the deep woods were hatchlings aren't allowed to go

Morni flicked out his tongue teasingly

Gorner gave him a pouting look.

"No fair Momo!"

Morni smiled deviously

"I'll pick one to show you, but only if you find me five sweet cakes at the festival next moon."

Gorner giggled.

"Mother said you eat too many of those."

The hatchling gloated at the mortified look on his older brother's face.

"Hey, I do not! I just like looking at them is all."

"Well than prove it." Gorner poked Morni's gut with his tail, "I bet I can beat you back to the village!"

With that he raced off, little limbs carrying him surprisingly fast. And, Morni, staying a good distance away from the creek's edge. Not as far as he would have liked, but more than safe. The hatchling had also stopped limping, which either meant the pain was gone, or he had been successfully distracted from it. Morni let another few tail flicks pass, Gorner would tire out long before the village was in view. But he still raced after him, planning to feign tiredness and declare his little brother the winner after he caught up to him.

The smile that would bring to that little snout was worth a hundred sweet cakes.

---

A ways upstream, Gorner let a worried remark escape him as the faint smell of burnt grass touched his senses.

With a smile and nudge of his snout against his brother's shoulder, Morni assured him it was proably the forge's new apprentice spilling coals again. Though the axe-scar running across the tip of Morni's snout prevented him from detecting any such thing at this distance

As the creek led them closer and closer to home, the scent of burning things grew sharper to Gorner's senses and, in turn, his mouth creased downward with a growing uneasiness. Other than the few giggles Morni managed to drag out, he was unable to rouse the hatchling out of this moody state. So the two mostly walked in silence. Older racking his brain for ways to shake his brother's frown, while younger cast scattered glances into the surrounding forest. Unable to shake the feeling that the branches were grasping for his shadow.

When they came upon the last bend of the creek, sparse particles of ash began to litter the air about them. Now, Morni couldn't miss the smell, nor could he stop himself from sharing in his brother's worry. A sense of foreboding engulfed the two as they dragged their talons forward. Finally, through a break in the trees ahead, they spotted the first of the flames engulfing their village.

For a few tail ticks they watched the red, orange and yellows splash across the few homes they could see. The fire slowly chewed through the hard, scale-wood walls. Yet it leapt into the sky where it touched the grass roofs, as if excited by the easy prey. Each house was like a tuft of colorful fur which whipped and danced in the wind.

Morni grasped Gorner's foreleg in a tight grip. A shocked expression met his hard eyes.

"Stay at my flank, we will find mother and father." Morni assured him

But that did nothing to cut the hatchling's nervousness, his furry ears splayed back, like a dubit hiding in its burrow. The light brown of his mane bristled in an imitation of frozen grass, and his tail held stiff as a dead branch.

Morni held his gaze a flick longer before suddenly taking off at a galloping run. Both to spur his brother forward and to stop himself from trying to comfort him. He felt Gorner's presence at his side, heard his panting breaths. Morni kept his gaze forward, unwilling to look at the soup of dour emotions painted on the little one's face. If he dared spare his brother a glance he was sure to immediately stop and engulf him in a spine maiming hug. But this wasn't the time or place. They would mourn when they saw bodies. He hoped there wouldn't be any bodies.

The crackling laughter of the flames grew in their ears as they approached the first home. It was one of the few scattered outer ones, away from the half-circle of tightly packed houses were they, and most others, lived. Morni slowed to a quick walk, but Sire Aldyr was nowhere to be seen.

He galloped to the next home, that of sow Poeha and sow Aberdene. Still no sign of life. The decorated fabic that normally covered the entrance to their home had burned away, revealing nothing inside except fire and smoke. Billowing black clouds streamed from the entrance like a waterfall drawn skyward.

Had all the villagers had burned to death in their homes? It was impossible all the buildings had caught fire at the same time. Even if that had happened, many would have been outside in the late afternoon, coming back from a hunt, washing linen in the creek, or bringing prayers to the pile. Everyone would have gone running for buckets as soon as they saw fire.

Eventually the brothers came upon the village center, the half circle of many homes, now all burning, with a wide, short hill in the middle. At the top of that hill was a pile of dark stones, and at the top of that pile was something that fed the pit of growing dread in both of their stomachs, a severed head.

It was Duirghol. The seer stared at them with eyes as black as they were in life. His snout was unmarked, but his the body below the jaw had been brutally shorn off, as if his neck were a green branch snapped in two. A multitude of red streams ran from the jagged stump of his neck down the sacred dark stones. These streams pooled around the pile, and lines of blood, painted deliberately on the ground, led to the closed doors of each burning house.

Morni stepped ahead of Gorner, blocking the hatchling's view with his flank. He looked back and down and was met with wide, wet eyes.

Morni lowered his snout to brush the tip of it along the top of his brother's head. He felt the tiny shivers racking the little body. And through his scarred nostrils he could practically hear the sadness and despair rolling through Gorner like a morning storm catching wind. Failing to escape with his ragged breaths and instead building to a strike of lighting that would break the growing tide of his emotions. Flooding his mind with an overwhelming sense of loss.

Morni curled his body around the little one, muffling the sounds of a burning world with a wall of scales and safety. His heavy tail lay atop his brother's, trying to relax the stiffness out of it. He rubbed his snout over the top of Gorner's head, going back and forth with slow motions and breathing softly over him. His brother's heavy intakes of air, forcing through his small nostrils, eased to steady, but still shaky, breaths. Though nothing could stop the tears that poured down his cheeks

They stayed in the middle of their burning village until their world was only ashes. And the stars became their only light.

The growing darkness had lulled Gorner to slumber, encircled by his brother who laid down around and over him. Morni was also exhausted, but unable to relax himself enough to sleep. His snout rested on his brother's back while his eyes lay open, staring. Duirghol had held his gaze for a while, but now the darkness separated the living from the dead.

Morni looked North and sent a silent thanks to the Dark Sun, to have wounded the Sun so much in their battle for dominance that it had to turn away and recover for half the day. Blessing the world with the calm of night. It still astounded Morni that thousands upon thousands of years later a creature that massive was still recovering. He felt suddenly very small, and that was oddly comforting. Even though he had just stared into the dead eyes of someone he had know his entire life, his problems seemed trivial compared to the terrible power of the creatures in the sky.

Gorner stirred in his sleep. His ears flicking as he mumbled something incoherent. Morni smiled and laid his head back down ontop of his brother, the fur running down the hatchling's spine tickling his throat. As he had stared at where Duirghol had been, his mind had frozen his emotions into a block of hard summer ice. But the gentle breathing of Gorner warmed his heart, and he began to melt. His parents were dead, his home gone, his family, friends... Tears broke from his eyes and stung his cheeks with their heat. He mourned those he had lost, and he mourned the thought of what would happen if he lost what he had left.

He wrapped himself tighter around his little brother

---

The sounds of the morning drew Morni into a feeling of familiarity. Gentle wind, squawking grubs, and the smell of...ash. His eyes cracked open, and he saw that his home was now only sparse piles of ash. Little by little it was blow away with small gusts of wind. The speckled particles flying past like the axe dust of a busy wood-shop.

Duirghol's head was still mounted on the pile of stones. But his eyes had been eaten clean out by some nocturnal scavenger, leaving empty holes in their place. Morni quickly broke his gaze with the dark sockets.

Gorner was still sleeping soundly inside the ring Morni had created with his body. Morni nudged the hatchling's head gently with his snout, and his brother roused with a maw splitting yawn and a huff through his nostrils. He pushed his chest up with his forepaws, and stared at the scene around them.

Morni watched his brother as the little one's wide eyes flitted through the empty clearing where the village center had been yesterday. Where they had both left, after Morni finished work early at the cutting shop, to have some afternoon fun.

A confused look suddenly crossed Gorner's features. Then, like an axe hitting a bent wedge, sparks of joy lighted his eyes. And before Morni could turn his snout to see what he was looking at, the hatchling leaped over the boundary his older brother's body had created around him. Morni sprang into action and tried to grab for the tail that flew by his snout, but was a mane's hair off. His fore's and hind's stumbled him into a standing position and he whipped his snout over to see what his brother was running for.

There was a party of a dozen or so Deus at the edge of the slick-wood trees that ringed the village clearing. Their features were hard to pin down at this distance, but they all looked normal enough, until he saw a glint of metal on one of their heads...armor. No one in the village had ever fought in a war, the wars were in the south. Hold-lords killing each other over petty feuds and 'precious' metals. Morni had seen armor only once before, when he was but a hatchling. Soldiers had come through declaring this village to be a subject of a far-away hold-lord. They had worn layered bronze over their scales and helmets that hid their eyes. He still had nightmares of that day.

Before he even realized it, Morni was running faster than he ever had in his life. It was an uneven, sprinting gallop. He didn't want to call out to Gorner for fear that it would alert the soldiers. But he knew he could catch up to his brother, despite his head start and him running faster than anything Morni had seen him do before.

The soldiers were slowly making their way out of the treeline, spreading out and seeming to scan the area, there were a few clumps of small grub-fruit trees between Gorner and them, with their wide, low foliage. Perfect for foraging grubs to get fat and slow on, maybe he wouldn't be spotted

Morni's breaths were quick sucks of air through his open mouth, his mane was flattened by the wind. His eyes narrowed and fierce.

There was suddenly a growling bark from one of the soldiers, loud enough for anyone in the former village to have heard it. Acknowledging barks sounded back and Gorner came to a skidding stop, his tail stiff and mane hairs bristling.

Just as the soldiers began to run, Morni's fangs flashed out and grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck like a mother grabbing a misbehaving hatchling. Then turned and ran back to where they had entered the village clearing yesterday. Gorner curled his limbs in instinctively, his usual protests at being carried in such an embarrassing manner were nonexistent. Their mother struggled to carry Gorner this easily, he, like his brother, was big for his age. But Morni's neck was strong from moving cut logs in his jaws all day, another season and he might have taken over for the forester he was apprenticed, she could have carried Morni in her jaws if she wanted. But for a time he alone would have cut wood for the village, as she was heavy with eggs and about to go into season.

All the exhausting work that would have entailed was gone. And Morni still managed to feel a pang of sadness strike at his heart, despite running for his life. He glanced north and sent a silent thought to the Dark Sun.

The barks behind him turned to shouts, the leader ordering his minions to "leave the burly one alive."

Morni kept his legs pumping, his snout pointing forward. but he could feel the soldiers catching up to him, hear their talons pound against the ground.

He skidded to a stop and released Gorner from his jaws. His brother dropped and stumbled to his paws. Morni glanced quickly behind and saw 3 of the soldiers running full tilt towards them with the rest hanging back. But one soldier was much faster than the rest, he looked to be the same age, but was thinner and shorter than Morni. Though through that hard run Morni could see the packed muscle beneath those scales. No to mention the bronze that covered the top of his head and his forelegs.

Morni looked back to Gorner, the little one was a shivering statue of scales framed by the green grass under him.

"When you cant run anymore, hide."

Gorner's jaw moved frantically.

"Momo who are? D-did they? What are they wearing?"

But Morni cut him off by grabbing his neck scruff again and resuming his run towards the treeline

When he finally made it he burst his way through the undergrowth. He kept going for a short distance before again stopping and letting his brother drop. Morni grabbed one of Gorner's forelegs before he could steady himself and stared deep into his eyes.

"Run now, then hide."

"Momo!"

"Go! Now!"

He let go of Gorner's arm with a shove.

His little brother eyes wavered, looking between Morni and the soldiers. He stood there for a tick, one of his front paws lifted apprehensively. Then he bolted away.

Morni watched him go, and before he could stop himself he yelled out.

"I will find you!"

Morni didn't believe his own words, but hoped that the false hope would keep Gorner going. Living on your own at that young an age wouldn't be easy. Maybe a traveler would find him and take pity.

Morni looked back towards the soldiers, all he could do now was buy his little brother time to escape.

The front most soldier was nearly at the treeline.

Morni ran up to the edge of the forest and crouched next to an asher tree. It's thin, vine-like leaves draped over him and covered him from view.

As soon as Morni could see the whites of the fastest soldier's eyes he leapt into action.

His jaws caught the deus's neck as he was running past. He felt his fangs tear away scales and dig into flesh. But the force of the sprinting soldier carried his neck through Morni's teeth, allowing him to escape the crushing bite.

The soldier tried to halt his sprint, but stumbled unsteadily on his paws, blood oozing from his torn neck.

Before he could right himself Morni smashed his open talon across the soldier's snout. His pads, callused from seasons with an axe handle in his paws, were unfazed by the bronze helm. The swiftest of Gorner's pursuers collapsed like a fallen tree, unconscious and bloodied.

Morni spun round and saw the next soldier running to meet him. He roared out a challenge and charged forward.

But this time he lacked surprise, and the experience of one trained in fighting won out over an older brother's drive to protect his younger counterpart.

The soldier stopped and reared up in a practiced fighting stance as Morni got close. When the forester predictably leapt for the throat the soldier brought both his paws down onto Morni's head, slamming his snout into the ground and knocking him out cold.