They heard a loud crash from the kitchen and rushed to see what was the poultry squawking about.
It was Olliver, who apparently still had problems managing the landing while using his teleporting egg.
The year that had passed had brought him a quiet assurance that the boy had lacked, even his stutter would not come as often, and his various travels using the golden egg had given him a wider outlook of what was in the world.
“Rukji!” He called —he still would use the deferential moniker for Rukshan.
“What is it Olliver? Calm down, can’t you see everybody is all tense?” the Fae answered.
“Something has changed, Rukji. A great opening in the mountain. I was staying in a village I have seen a great blue light in the distance while there, across the sand and rocks desert, beyond the shifting dunes. Something that reminded me of what Gorrash told about his memories from his master. We should go explore.”
“I’ll contact Lhamom, she may have heard stories and can help us get there until you get the hang of a group teleport.”