Canelorn Castle guarded the eastern mountain pass into Saxony. It was late at night when Arch-mage Aldwyn Lufgren sat in his high chamber in this castle. He sat before the enchanted stone he had placed on the altar. All he could do now was trust in his magics.

Aldwyn looked into the stone. It was black obsidian, its white streaks and spots resembling clouds and stars. He gazed long on it, while reciting the ancient aelven chant. His vision grew dim, then he saw another world opening up in endless vistas before him. It was a twilight world, over which hung an immense starry sky. Constellations he knew well hung in the infinite darkness. One by one, twelve of the stars grew brighter. Features of the lands below became clearer - he could see the features of Saxony, its fields and cities. The twelve stars pointed a glowing finger of light down upon twelve separate souls. Like fingers of the Gods, the light said to the wizard these twelve have within them what the spell requires.

Coming out of the vision, Aldwyn could still see the landscape and the stars etched in his mind. He smiled; finally it was possible. The ancient spell could still be cast. He knew what he had to do. It was the first vision he had had in years that was not filled with dark foreboding. There was something of the Gods in it, a power he had not felt since the darkness had spread through the realms.

Aldwyn put down the stone and sighed. He wondered if his old body could still withstand the rigors of the path he must now tread. The stars had shone into the far reaches of the realm. Some bright, others faint. Aldwyn knew that some of them would be easy to find, others more difficult. And now he had a more pressing concern. He would need to explain to the High Lords of the Order his mission before he could set out. That would be a trial of a different kind. Warriors and wizards did not always see eye to eye.

Otto walked back from his day at the village school. He walked the well worn track along the hedgerows. Otto wore his step-brother Leo’s hand-me-downs, stitched and repaired. It was something else Leo thought Otto should be grateful for. He said they looked silly now, since Otto stretched everything so much. Leo was tall and skinny, Otto medium sized and stout.

When he got back to the family farm Otto went to the cow sheds. It was his job to muck them out. He didn’t mind. He loved the cows, their warm earthy smell, their low mooing when he entered the stalls. After a difficult lonely day at school it was a relief. Klarinda, his favorite mooed and he rubbed her soft nose, which she rubbed against his hand. He enjoyed the farm work, and he knew that the manure he mucked out helped the vegetables and herbs grow. He wished that people were as easygoing as cows. They moved aside if given a gentle push and some calming words. They also mooed in appreciation as he put some more feed in their troughs. His enjoyment of their company shattered when Leo came in. “Sorry fatso, gotta leave your cows and come in with us. Time for your feeding. Soon you’ll be as big as a cow.” He laughed as he walked back out.

“See you later,” Otto said in a soft voice. “Sometimes I wish I was a cow, things would be easier.”

Otto made his way over to the wood and stone cottage of his aunt and uncle. The aromas of cooked meat and baked potatoes drifted across the yard. A stream of smoke drifted from the top of the stone chimney.

Inside his step family talked of their day and village business as they ate their meal. Otto reached for the serving spoon and filled a second bowl of stew. He was hungry; chores this morning, then school, then working in the cow-shed. Auntie Neren, Uncle Werther and his cousin Leo were still on their first bowl of stew.

Leo watched Otto reaching out and said, “You are too greedy, Otto. You eat enough for two.”

Auntie Neren gave Leo a stern look. Uncle Werther, who was rarely out of the fields in time for dinner, raised one eye in a non-committal way. He shrugged before returning to his stew. Otto hesitated - was he greedy? He knew Leo was always mean to him, hunger took over and he filled up his bowl.

After Otto’s father had left him, his Uncle and Aunt had been kind enough to let him live under their roof. Another reason Leo’s words stung was that Otto knew that he was fatter than most other kids his age. For some reason others that ate the same amount stayed skinnier than him. His Auntie told him it was something to do with the stars of his birth. When he heard this Leo laughed and said that Otto must have been born under the sign of the pig. Auntie Neren frowned and rubbed Otto’s hair, telling him to pay Leo no mind. Leo didn’t mean any harm she said. But Otto was not so sure.

The next morning, after feeding the cows and milking them, Otto walked to the village school. It was one building, with three classes for all the children of the village who could attend. They learned to read and write as well as basic number skills. Otto enjoyed the classes, especially those that taught them the history of Saxony. It reminded him that there was a big world out there, past the village of Rallin.

“So class, can anyone tell me the name of our King?”

Otto put up his hand. He liked Mrs Vogel, and he had heard his step-parents mention King Voenheim.

“Our King is not a cow Leo,” he heard his brother say behind him. Most of the class laughed at this, and Ott felt himself go red. He put down his hand, wishing he could disappear.

Later as the other children rushed outside to play, Mrs Vogel called out.

“Come here Otto.”

He nodded and walked over to her. He didn’t like going out for their lunch break. He had no friends to play with, Leo had seen to that.

“You knew the name of our King, didn’t you?”

Otto nodded.

“I know how smart you are Otto - I would like everyone else to see it too. You shouldn’t pay any attention to your brother’s words. Brothers can be cruel sometimes.”

“He’s not my brother.”

“Step-brother then. We can’t always choose our family, we must make the best of it.”

Otto nodded. He knew that she was being kind.