By the fire at Emberhelm, the night before the ley lines awakened
We drank not for glory,
but for breath.
For blood that still ran,
and brothers not yet turned to ash.
No crown weighed our heads that night.
No blade hung between us.
Only silence,
and the crackle of wood older than war.
Lore sat still
eyes on the shadow that never left his side.
Drax, hands calloused,
held the storm like a sleeping child.
Draven, scar-bound, leaned on root and stone.
Rayne, half-light, watched the stars as if to ask
if they would wait for him to rise.
And I,
I ….
who had been all things and nothing
looked at them not as soldiers,
but as home.
We did not speak of battles.
We did not weep for lost years.
We passed the bread.
We tore the fish.
We shared warmth not made of fire.
And before the parting,
we carved no words.
For there are some truths
that can’t be spoken
without breaking.
Thank you for reading
Futher Reading
The Prophecies and Tales of Taranis Unfolded
StormborneLore 
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