“The Gibbor doesn’t lie. His words are true.” Oren was holding back, but just. “The words came through the Blue Stone, unclouded in meaning. He saw the child’s birth star and spoke of mortal danger. There are those who seek his life.”

            “Who would harm an earth child?” Elymas challenged. “Who would oppose Jah’s will?”

            “Saar did,” said Fulcruchen. “Really, Elymas, such a remark is beneath you. There’s been danger all around ever since one of your kind plucked the bloom.”

            “My kind?” Elymas reddened. “Not all Earth Skyll’s are alike. Doesn’t it seem strange that the man who warns us of danger is the leader of the tribe that slaughtered us for twenty years?”

            “Not really,” countered Fulcruchen. “Nothing is as it should be since the bloom was plucked. Enemies become friends, and friends become foes.” 

            “Do I hear an accusation?” Elymas stood apart from his stool. “Are you accusing me of trying to kill the child?” 

            “Ah, so now you admit he has been born!” The elder tried not to sound smug but failed.

            “Stop baiting the Earth Skyll, or his liver will burst,” remarked the King to his councilor.  “Elymas, Oren Hunter has done nothing but enter our court with a puzzling message. Your suspicions shame us.”