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Thunder resonated in the sky, shattering the delicate silence of the night. Lightning illuminated the sky, sending ripples of light across the horizon. Sharp eyes gazed out at the city bellow. The sprawling of rooftops and empty streets echoing with the noise of the storm. Rain thundered down to soak the figure gazing out. A dark shape became visible as the lightning rattled again. The noise of the thunder almost defined her. The dark shape began to take form as it made its way through the winding streets up towards the palace entrance where hence she stood.

The figure was a man, taller then was normal even among the man, his hand on the shoulder of an infant dragon. Atop the dragon slumped the shape of a sleeping or unconscious child. She recognized the man he was High Druid Naiamin. The man climbed the steps his dragon Siliviara in tow. The druid wore a tunic of fine satin died a dark black with a sash of golden silk about his waist. Cloaked in a black cloak he resembled an ordinary traveler. His long black hair covered by the drawn up hood that hid features that were young yet knowledge older then is known lies engraved in those teenage features. He was young to be a High Druid. Then again she was young at 14 years old to be Empress of the Dail Empire.

“Lady Isaria Adair” Naiamin said bowing.

“High Druid Naiamin, what owe we to this visit?” Isaria answered.

Rising Naiamin said “The child I bring you must raise as your own. None but you must know he is not yours born.” Thunder sounded and the child awoke. His dark golden eyes focused on the women before him. He was no more then 2 or 3 years old. His face was oval with gentle angles forming his jaw. His appearance was that of a well raised child with eyes far too knowledgeable. His clothing were of satin dyed silver with a black sash about his middle made of silk. His blond hair cut short was messy and tussled from the rain. Naiamin gently lifted the child’s small form from under the blanket that had fallen away from his shoulders and placed him down on his feet on the ground. The child’s small hand extended towards her. Isaria bent down, her black cloak fell away revealing a long white gown tied at the waist with a golden sash of silk. Her long golden-red hair tumbled over her shoulder with a slight curl to them. Her eyes were ice blue in color. Though soft and gentle in appearance. Her body was gently shaped held the promise of breathtaking beauty when she became of age. Her arms wrapped around the child she lifted him into her arms holding him close to her and wrapping the cloak around them both, pulling up her hood once again. Raising her eyes from the child she saw that Naiamin had vanished. Heading back into the tall beautiful flowing buildings that were her home.

“what is your name child?” She asked softly to the young lad in her arms.

“Nsai” The child answered as thunder clashed overhead. Lighting fallowed a spit second after.