The altar

Xairo felt a thrill of excitement course through him at Zagan's words. This was it - the moment they would bring their mother's vision to life. He nodded solemnly, moving to stand beside his brother at the edge of the fire pit. "Together, then," Xairo agreed, his voice low and reverent. He reached for the flint stone they had managed to get ahold of prior, and unsheathed his still blade. "I’ll strike, you tend the flame." Xairo gripped the flint stone tightly, positioning it over the carefully arranged tinder. With a deep breath, he struck his blade against the flint, sending a shower of sparks cascading down onto the dry bark. His heart raced as he watched intently, waiting to see if the sparks would catch.

"Xairo Saxe"