The brothers left their bed chambers early that morning, and followed a winding path that led them to a cliffside in The Polar Sound.

It was the perfect place to set up an altar- at the sharp drop-off, pine trees bent towards the vastness of the open sea. The clearing was filled with the rhythmic roar of waves crashing against the rocks below- the ocean’s raw, unpredictable power dominating the space. And beyond that, was an endless stretch of sky- they could use the dusk or dawn lighting to aid in their rituals, and follow celestial patterns in the nighttime.

When they arrived, dawn started to break, bathing the cliffside in a dim glow. The ocean below was dark, brooding, and hungry- trying to coax the brothers into its depths.

Zagan stood at the edge, peering down into the ocean- enthralled by the immensity of its untamed power.

"Zagan Saxe"

Xairo stood back from the cliff's edge, watching his brother with careful attention. As the sun crept higher, its pale light illuminated the altar site they had chosen. Xairo could see now why this spot was perfect - the natural stone formations created a sort of platform, elevated and exposed to the elements. It was a place of raw power, where the forces of nature converged. It needed some work, but it wouldn’t take much. Just some tidying up and rearranging.

Impatient to begin, Xairo took a step toward Zagan, looking to capture his brother’s attention. “This location feels right.” Xairo mumbled while scanning the cliffside clearing, his mind already envisioning the altar they would construct here. A few large boulders could be shifted into place to form the main platform. Smaller stones, worn smooth by wind and rain, would be arranged in a sacred geometric pattern around the edges.

He could almost feel the energy thrumming through the earth beneath his paws, a subtle vibration that resonated deep in his bones. This was a place of power, and it was all theirs.

"Xairo Saxe"

Xairo’s voice broke the stillness of the cliffside, drawing Zagan’s attention away from the ocean’s swirling depths. “She told me about it... in a dream.” He says, as he looks back at his brother- searching his face for recognition. Their mother. She came to him in his dreams- suspended in a moment of eternal stillness- always teaching him. Reassuring him. Loving him.

“Let's get to work.” Zagan refocused his attention to their task, prompting Xairo toward some of the boulders at the edges of the clearing. “We can use these to create the platform.” Extending out a paw, he rubs his pawpad against one of the boulders- testing its durability- before shifting his weight to determine how heavy it was. It would be too strenuous to move it on his own. Xairo needed to help him.

"Zagan Saxe"

Xairo's ears perked up at the mention of their mother's dream visitation. A flicker of envy passed through him, but he quickly pushed it aside. There would be time to dwell on that later. Right now, they had work to do. He trotted over to where Zagan was examining the boulders, eyeing them with a critical gaze. Yes, these would do nicely. Sturdy and solid, they would provide a stable foundation for the altar. "Let's start with this one," Xairo said, motioning to a particularly large boulder with his muzzle. He pressed his shoulder against the rough stone, feeling the grit of lichen and moss against his fur. With a grunt, he began to push, straining against the weight.

"Xairo Saxe"

Xairo picked the first boulder to move, and Zagan nodded, expressing his approval. It would be a challenge- but something about it felt primal to Zagan- as if he and his brother were going up against Mother Nature itself.

He takes his place beside Xairo, and presses his shoulder into the cool surface of the boulder. Its gritty texture scrapes against his skin, and he ignores it- savoring this moment of resistance- as he shoves his weight forward. With their combined efforts, the boulder starts to move- slowly rolling forward, as they push it into the right place. “Alright, another.” He says, taking a step back to acknowledge their work.


"Zagan Saxe"

Xairo took a step back, panting slightly from the exertion. He surveyed the boulder's new position with a critical eye, ensuring it was exactly where it needed to be. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the next stone, a slightly smaller one that would fit perfectly beside the first.

"This one next," he said, moving to position himself at one end of the boulder. He waited for Zagan to take his place at the other end before counting down. "On three. One, two, —-" On his count he heaved against the stone, muscles straining as they fought to overcome its stubborn inertia. Slowly, inch by inch, it began to move, leaving a shallow furrow in the soft earth as they guided it into place.

"Xairo Saxe"

After catching his breath, Zagan followed his brother to the second-largest boulder, ready to shift it into position. Xairo counted down, and on his count, Zagan shifted his weight into the stone. His muscles were starting to ache- screaming out in protest- but he ignored the discomfort- it was only temporary.

With a final lurch, they pushed the boulder into place, lodging it next to the first one. Slowly, the platform of their altar was coming to life.

“She said we need all four elements.” He grumbles, looking over his shoulder at his brother, who was inspecting their work. “To strengthen the rituals.” His gaze shifts back to the boulders. “Earth.” Then back to Xairo. “I’ll collect an element of air. You collect an element of water.” His head motions to the roaring waves beyond the cliffside, a sly smirk pulling the corners of his lips.

"Zagan Saxe"

Xairo narrowed his eyes as he followed Zagan's gaze to the churning sea below. The waves crashed against the jagged rocks, sending up plumes of frothy spray. He could feel the salty mist on his face even from this distance. "Water, huh?" Xairo said, his tone a mix of intrigue and trepidation. He knew the dangers that lurked beneath the surface - the strong currents, the hidden rocks, the creatures that called the depths home. But he also knew the power that water held, the way it could cleanse and purify, the way it could be harnessed for their rituals.

With a determined set to his jaw, Xairo turned back to Zagan. He moved to the cliff's edge, peering down at the narrow path that wound its way down to the shore. It was treacherous, with loose stones and crumbling earth, but Xairo was nimble and sure-footed. He had navigated worse terrain before. With a deep breath, Xairo began to pick his way down the path, his claws digging into the soft earth for purchase. The wind whipped at his fur as he descended, carrying with it the briny scent of the sea. The roar of the waves grew louder with each step, until it drowned out all other sounds.

At last, Xairo reached the narrow strip of rocky beach at the base of the cliffs. The stones were slick beneath his paws, worn smooth by the ceaseless action of the tides. He paused for a moment, scanning the shoreline for something suitable to bring back as an offering of water.

"Xairo Saxe"

Xairo didn’t question Zagan’s request, which was odd to the Saxe boy- usually, his brother hated being bossed around, and would resist. But like Zagan, he must have believed in their Mother’s wisdom. They would do anything to bring her visions to life.

Once Xairo vanished over the cliffside, Zagan turned to the forest. The trees seemed to lean in, beckoning him forward, their branches swaying gently in the cold wind. The area was so remote, that he doubted anyone knew they were there- not that it mattered.

With a huff, Zagan crept back into the forest, vanishing into the undergrowth in search of his next item- the skull and feathers of a raven.

"Zagan Saxe"

Xairo moved slowly along the rocky shore, his eyes scanning the surf for something suitable to bring back as an offering of the water element. The waves lapped at his paws, the icy water sending a chill through his fur. He spotted a tidepool nestled between two large boulders and made his way over, careful not to slip on the slick, seaweed-covered rocks.

Xairo reached a paw into the chilly water, feeling around until his claws scraped against the shell's smooth surface. He pulled it out and examined it closely. It was a stunning specimen - unblemished and perfectly formed, large enough to hold a generous quantity of seawater for their ritual. Satisfied with his find, Xairo lifted the shell reverently in his jaws. Xairo carefully made his way back up the treacherous cliffside path, the large seashell clenched delicately between his jaws. The muted roar of the waves faded behind him as he ascended, replaced by the rustle of wind through the pines.

"Xairo Saxe"

Soon, Zagan is swallowed by the thickening trees, the underbrush reaching out at his paws, trying to grab him- but his steps are deliberate- his trained senses searching for the prize he desires. The raven skull wasn’t just a relic- it would symbolize the element of air- the essence of air moving in the wake of death or phantoms- a connection to the spirit world.

Reaching a small clearing, Zagan stops, his gaze moving upward to scan the trees. With a click of his tongue, he summons his raven companion, and instructs it to help him. It doesn’t hesitate to help its master- moments later, its back in the sky, searching for the skull of a fallen comrade.

Zagan waits for its signal- a sharp caw that signifies success. When it comes, he tears through the forest with restless energy, finding his raven standing on a log and flapping its wings at the underbrush. Success. Collecting the skull, and taking a feather from his companion, he makes his way back to the altar.

"Zagan Saxe"

Xairo emerged from the cliffside path, the large seashell still gripped carefully in his jaws. He closed the distance to where they had begun contstructing the altar, noting with satisfaction the progress they had made with the boulders. The platform was taking shape nicely.

Setting the shell down gently on one of the flatter rocks, Xairo sat back on his haunches and waited for Zagan to return. He could feel anticipation thrumming through his veins, a sense that they were on the cusp of something momentous. The ritual their mother had imparted to Zagan in dreams would be unlike anything they had attempted before. A way to commune with primal forces beyond their understanding.

"Xairo Saxe"

Zagan emerges from the underbrush just as Xairo arrives at the base of the altar. Gravitating to his brother, he shares a glance with him before he sets the raven skull and feather down, situating it beside the flat rock Xairo chose to set his shell on.

Leaning in, he inspects his brother’s work- a large seashell filled with a generous quantity of seawater. It was suitable a start, and they could fill it with spring water, if they needed a purer form for enchantments and elixirs.

A deep rumble of approval resonates from Zagan. “Now, we need fire.” He says, his head twisting to look back into the forest. “We could use the venom candles we made.” He’s thinking out loud now. “Or, we could make a fire pit.” Another viable option.

"Zagan Saxe"

Xairo considered Zagan's suggestions for the fire element, his brow furrowing in thought. The venom candles would certainly be potent, imbued as they were with the essence of lethal serpents. But there was something alluring about the idea of a fire pit, a constant flame that they could feed and maintain throughout the ritual.

"Let's go with a fire pit," Xairo decided, rising to his paws. "We can gather stones to build a ring, and collect dry tinder and wood from the forest." He moved to the center of the altar platform and began to clear a space, using his paws to dig a shallow depression in the earth. The soil was dark and rich, still damp from the morning dew. Xairo worked methodically, shaping the pit until it was a perfect circle, just wide and deep enough to contain a modest fire.

"Xairo Saxe"

Xairo preferred making a fire pit, and Zagan nodded in approval, allowing his brother to take the lead.

While Xairo went to work on clearing a space for the pit, Zagan turned away and fled into the forest, to collect the rest of the items they needed. Stones, dry tinder, and wood. The stones were the first on his list- he needed enough to build the border, and a flint stone they could use to create sparks for their fires.

Walking beneath the canopy of pines, Zagan’s gaze was darting side to side, searching for flickers of gray against a backdrop of green. There. He found a solid stone hidden by some moss and soil- large enough to create a border, and sturdy enough to withstand heat. And there. Another stone just like the first one. And there.

Slowly, he collected enough rocks to create a border, and returned to the altar to hand them over to Xairo.

"Zagan Saxe"

Xairo looked up as Zagan returned, nodding appreciatively at his brother’s findings. With careful precision, Xairo began to arrange the stones around the edge of the pit he had dug, creating a sturdy circular border. As he placed the last stone, Xairo sat back on his haunches to survey his handiwork. The fire pit was coming together nicely, a perfect focal point for their altar. Now they just needed the wood and tinder to bring it to life.

"This should do for containing the flames," Xairo said, turning to Zagan. "I'll go gather some wood while you look for tinder. We'll need both green and dry wood to keep the fire burning steadily." Without waiting for a response, Xairo trotted off into the forest, his keen eyes scanning the ground for suitable pieces of wood. He moved with purpose, gathering as many dry, dead branches that he could carry.

"Xairo Saxe"

Handing the stones over to Xairo, Zagan sat back and watched his brother set them around the edge of the pit. His placement was meticulous, as expected- and soon, there was a sturdy, flame-resistant border around their pit. Zagan agreed that it was the perfect focal point for their altar.

While Xairo searched for wood, Zagan went on the hunt for tinder. He approached an old oak first- an oddity in the pine forest- but its bark was ideal, because it would catch fire even in damp conditions. Using his claws, he sloughed off the outer layer, revealing the pale, birch bark underneath. He collected enough to start several fires- he figured they could store it in an outcropping near their altar.

"Zagan Saxe"