The altar

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"