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back to the stone door in the side of the mountain cliff. When he reached it, he turned to face his pupil, knowing instinctively that the man would still be standing there dumbfounded. “Well, come on. Don’t just stand there all day, time to wake the Rangers.”
    Greyson turned, leaving Elister to ponder his words and then in sudden realization, run after him, chasing him with more than a few questions. The Zashitors, or Rangers as they were known in the common tongue, hadn’t been seen at their Abbey in quite some time. Decades, at least. Surely they would have grown old and been dead by now, wouldn’t they?
    “Wait, Greyson,” Elister called out to the old druid as he navigated the rock corridor with surprising speed for someone his age. “Where are we going?”
    The old man never looked back, speaking and walking quickly at the same time. “To retrieve your companions first, and then to the Chamber of Slumber.”
    The pair found themselves at a junction in the deep rock mountainside and almost bumped into Elister’s companions, Tristan and Elizabeth.
    “Good morning,” they both said in unison, pleased to have found their companion and teacher so easily this day. Most days, they had to wait for them to return to begin their studies.
    Greyson nodded before addressing and surprising them, as well with his words. “Good morning, Trist and Beth. Your time of studies is over. Let’s go.”
    Off again walked the old druid, with Elister in tow and two stunned former students trying to make sense of their teacher’s words.
    “Elister, what did you say to him?” Beth asked, tugging at Elister’s robe.
    “I didn’t say anything,” Elister began, hurrying to keep up as they twisted and turned down the well-worn corridors of their mountain home. “He said the same thing to me not more than five minutes ago.”
    “Impossible,” Tristan said, bringing up the rear. “I can’t believe our studies would just end like that after all these years.”
    The three former students bumped into each other as Elister found himself running into Greyson when the old man stopped suddenly, turning to face the trio. “Who said your studies are over?”
    The three looked at the old man and then at each other. “Why, you did, just now,” Beth said first.
    “Hmm.” Greyson looked down for a minute, rubbing his bearded chin with his free hand and then just as quickly returning their look. “Yes, I did say that, but I meant that your time of studies here is over. Now you must get your hands dirty, so to speak. No more clean books and warm linen for you.”
    The man started off again at a quick pace, followed by his students, who tried a few more questions but got nowhere with their teacher, who was evidently focused on reaching the Chamber of Slumber. After several minutes of walking, the group came upon a high domed ceiling that they recognized immediately. To their left was a door that opened upon their mountain meadow sanctuary filled with trees, shrubs, and plants growing in a large basin-shaped hollow of the mountain range itself.
    The right had a door with an ornate archway, marked with ruins and elaborately decorated drawings and other ancient hieroglyphs depicting various figures of history and legend all in the prose of sleep. Greyson stopped in front of the door and turned to face the trio.
    “The Chamber of Slumber,” Tristan said, reverence in his voice.
    “Pretty simple name, if you ask me,” Beth said, gazing at the carved details above the doorway. “I thought it should have a more . . . regal name.”
    “It did, but you don’t remember,” Greyson said, giving the woman a look that said she ought to have known better.
    If so, Beth wasn’t remembering. “What are you saying?”
    “You studied it not long after your time of adulting,” Greyson lectured her, indeed all three of them who had forgotten their history.
    “When was that? I don’t remember anything other than the Chamber of Slumber,” Beth