“Ho, stranger,” Almen said, raising a hand, not knowing what else to say, not even sure if he’d seen what he thought he’d seen. “Did you…did you get lost up in the foothills?”

The man stopped, turning sharply. He seemed surprised to find Almen there. With a start, Almen realized the man’s left arm ended in a stump.

The stranger looked about, then breathed in deeply. “No. I’m not lost. Finally. It feels like a great long time since I’ve understood the path before me.”

Almen scratched the side of his face. Burn him, there was another patch he’d missed shaving. His hand had been shaking so much that he might as well have skipped the razor entirely. “Not lost? Son, that pathway only leads up the slopes of Dragonmount. The area’s been hunted clean, if you were hoping to find some game. There’s nothing back there of use.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the stranger said, glancing over his shoulder. “There are always things of use around, if you look closely enough. You can’t stare at them too long. To learn but not be overwhelmed, that is the balance.”

Almen folded his arms. The man’s words…it seemed they were having two different conversations. Perhaps the lad wasn’t right in the head. There was something about the man, though. The way he stood, the way those eyes of his stared with such calm intensity. Almen felt like standing up and dusting off his shirt to make himself more presentable.

“Do I know you?” Almen asked. Something about the young man was familiar.

“Yes,” the lad said. Then he nodded toward the orchard. “Gather your people and collect those apples. They’ll be needed in the days to come.”

“The apples?” Almen said, turning. “But—” He froze. The trees were burgeoning with new, ripe red apples. The blossoms he’d seen earlier had fallen free, and blanketed the ground in white, like snow.

Those apples seemed to shine. Not just dozens of them on each tree, but hundreds. More than a tree should hold, each one perfectly ripe.

“I am going mad,” Almen said, turning back to the man.

“It’s not you who is mad, friend,” the stranger said. “But the entire world. Gather those apples quickly. My presence will hold him off for a time, I think, and whatever you take now should be safe from his touch.”

That voice…Those eyes, like gray gemstones cut and set in his face. “I do know you,” Almen said, remembering an odd pair of youths he had given a lift in his cart years ago. “Light! You’re him, aren’t you? The one they’re talking about?”

The man looked back at Almen. Meeting those eyes, Almen felt a strange sense of peace. “It is likely,” the man said. “Men are often speaking of me.” He smiled, then turned and continued on his way down the path.

“Wait,” Almen said, raising a hand toward the man who could only be the Dragon Reborn. “Where are you going?”

The man looked back with a faint grimace. “To do something I’ve been putting off. I doubt she will be pleased by what I tell her.”