"No!" Katerine screamed, bolting upright at the touch of a hand on her shoulder.

"Hush, my daughter," whispered the man who had roused her. "'Twas only a dream. You were calling for them again."

"Oh, its you, Hubert" sighed the girl, rubbing her eyes in the brightness of the morning sun. "I could see their faces...the pain, the fear…after all these years, why do the dreams persist?"

Katerine buried her face in her hands as her shoulders shook.

"My child, you already know the answer to your question," chided the gentle monk. "Remember what I've told you from childhood?"

Brother Hubert drew her hands from her face and held them in his own. Katerine blinked away the tears from her eyes.

"Come, child, remind an old man of the Teachings."

Katerine smiled, then laughed softly. "Brother Hubert, it will be a long time before I ever think of you as old. You have been like a father to me, ever since my own parents…well…why, you couldn't have been much older than my own father when you found me on the temple steps. You risked much to take me in."

Brother Hubert blushed so profusely that even the bald spot on top of his head glowed a rosy hue. "Katerine, I am but a humble monk, do not flatter me so. Your father was my closest friend, how could I abandon his child?" He smiled wryly. "Even if his daughter happened to be a fiend sent to torment my mortal soul."

"What? I admit, there was that incident with the room of Memory…"

"Incident? My dear, the statue of King Guther lost his head!"

"Oh, well, that…"

"And the week after you broke your arm trying to climb the tower!"

"Oh, all right, so I was a handful!" Katerine growled.

"But Fylar's daughter through and through."

"Ah, but I am much more than your friend's daughter," Katerine scolded. "If they knew that you were sheltering me, do you not realize that they would kill not only me, but every creature within these walls to get to me? Every moment I remain here brings more peril to this sanctuary…, but I have nowhere to go."

"Peace, Katerine," soothed Brother Hubert. "I knew what I was doing when I carried you through the Temple gate. Even though you were only a small child, I knew who you would grow to be. You've come so far, Katerine. The mischievous child is gone, and a young lady has taken her place when I wasn't looking." The monk scowled mockingly at her. "Though perhaps you could take more care in your dress. Brother Fulder tells me he despairs when laundry day comes because you muddy so many dresses."

Katerine smiled innocently at him. "Who, me? Why, I'm far too old for such indecency!"

Hubert pondered a moment. "You're how old, now, 17? Soon you will leave to explore the wide world and leave your godfather behind, but then, Fylar was a wanderer too in his youth… Ah, well. Come, answer my question, why do you dream these things?"

Katerine tried to hide a smile as she shook her head at the stubborn monk.

"Dreams are for the purpose of interpretation," she recited. "They can foretell the future, give warning, or bring wisdom from the past. The Dreamers are few, but they have great responsibility."

"Excellent!" exclaimed the monk. "You have not forgotten your schooling."

"How could I? It was no accident that I wandered here those many years ago. My father always took heed of the danger of his gift. His example was not lost on me."

"No indeed, but I did not come up here to instruct you. Come to think of it, why did I?"

"Was it very important?"

"I'm not sure, it was very strange…Oh, its coming back. I was praying in the shrine when a little boy came running in. The other Brothers tried to hold him back, but he broke through and ran to where I stood before the Mirror of Truth. He motioned for me to bend my head and whispered 'for black-wing.' He pressed something into my hand, then pushed through the monks and ran out the doors. He was gone before we could even give chase. I quickly left and went to my study. Upon examining the item the boy had given me, I saw it was a letter. I have it here…in my pocket…"

The monk fumbled through his robes before producing a soiled, crumpled note.

"It's sealed. It must be yours. No one else knows of it, I'm sure. However, let us hope that boy can hold his tongue."

"Hmm?" asked Kat. She was looking at the seal on the letter.

"Kat, did you hear me? He called you black-wing. Why would he know something like that?"

The seal, it was important, she thought, there was no way she could trust its contents without knowing who had sent it.

She took the note from Hubert, who gave her a quizzical look. Kat ran her thumb over the seal, which depicted a fox hiding in grass. She had no memory of it. She smelled the note. Underneath the odor of dirt and sweat, there was a familiar scent…