Speaker 1: Hello, friends from across the nation and around the world.
My Martin and you are listening to Dad's bedtime stories. Tonight,
we'll be continuing with the Dragon Knights series and finally
learning about the Earth Dragon General. Our idea for this
one comes from Luna, who actually just commented on Spotify,
and the general idea is that the Earth Dragon General
is actually Bennett's dad, and his name is Basalt, I believe,
and he had to infiltrate the Rebels at one point
and ended up falling in love and having Bennett. I
think it makes an excellent idea, even though I really
had to go back in the story to figure out
what I even said about Bennett in the first place,
because he did actually have a mother and fun the story.
So guess what I guess His father was a step father,
A nice a nice step father of course.
Speaker 2: Yeah.
Speaker 1: Anyways, these Dragon Knight series are taking me a lot
longer to get out, partially because they take a really
long time to write these days. I guess there's so
much lower and so many things that have happened before
that I really can't just improvise them like I sometimes
do with stories. I have to write them in advance
and often I have to reread what I've written before.
So yeah, hopefully this summer we will finish up with
the series. After this will sort of do the story
of the Earth Dragon Kingdom being taken over than the
Air Dragons, and then hopefully the Dragon King or Dragon
Thief as I like to call him himself. And for
those of you looking for Cards of Power, don't worry,
I'm also working on those. We're still in the Deity
level tournament, just figuring out what creatures I want, and
there should be another Cards of Power next week. Don't forget.
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Now it's time to get as comfy as you can
in that bed, close your eyes and imagine yourself doing
what the kid in the story does. I call this
one the Salt and the Earth Dragon.
Speaker 2: General.
Speaker 1: Basalt grew up surrounded by dragons. Not stories of dragons,
or just pictures of dragons and old books, but real dragons,
Earth dragons. They lived in the mountains, in the valleys
and the deep stone halls beneath the earth, and in
the wide open training grounds where true dragon knights practiced
their craft. When Basalt was a little boy, the Earth
Dragon Kingdom was still free. Of course, back then, the
world was different. Dragons and humans worked together, not because
one controlled the other, but because they'd chosen each other.
A dragon would find its rider, and a rider would
find their dragon, and the bond between them would become
something more powerful than either one could be alone. Basalt's
parents were dragon knights, real dragon knights. His father was
bonded to a massive earth dragon named Obsidian, a dragon
with scales like black mountain glass and eyes like polished silver.
His mother was bonded to a smaller and quicker earth
dragon named Slate, who could move through tunnels and caves
as if the entire thing had been built just for her.
Basalt grew up watching them train. He watched his father
stomp one boot into the ground and send a line
of stone pillars shooting up across a field. He watched
his mother lift her hand and turn loose sand into
solid rock. He watched earth dragons carved tunnels, raise walls,
shaped bridges, and build entire halls for the bones of
the mountain. To Basalt, it was the most incredible thing
in the world, and every night, when he lay in bed,
he imagined the day it would happen for him, The
day he would feel the pull, the day an egg
would call his name, the day a dragon would hatch
look up at him and say.
Speaker 2: You are my rider.
Speaker 1: Everyone assumed it would happen. His parents assumed it. Other
dragon knights assumed it. Even Basalt assumed it. After all,
both his parents were dragon knights. He grew up among dragons.
He knew more about earth dragon traditions than most grown ups.
He could name the different kinds of stone by touch.
He knew where to dig for clay, where to find
iron in the rocks, and how to hear the difference
between a hollow and a solid one. Surely an egg
would choose him, but none did. The first time he
was brought to the egg chamber he was still quite young.
He walked past rows of earth dragon eggs, each one
gray brown, silver, black, or speckled like granite. He placed
his hand near them, hoping to feel something, a warmth,
a poll, a glow, anything, but the eggs remained silent.
That's all right, his mother told him gently. Sometimes the
bond takes time. His father placed a strong hand on
his shoulder. You don't choose the egg, son, the egg
chooses you, and when the right one is ready, you'll know.
Basalt nodded, because that was what he was supposed to do,
but inside something twisted. Years past, other children were chosen,
some younger than him. Basalt watched a girl from the
lower caverns bond with a little earth dragon that immediately
began eating pebbles from her hand. He watched a boy
who barely knew anything about dragons place one hand on
an egg and laugh as it cracked open with golden light.
He watched nights celebrate, parents cheer, dragons roar, and new
riders summon their armor for the first time, and still
no egg chose Basalt. At first, he told himself that
it didn't matter. Then he told others it didn't matter.
Then he told it so often that he he almost
believed it. Almost but not quite, because when he watched
those other children flying on dragons, shaping the earth, summoning
armor from the bond in their chest, something inside him burned.
And it was not a good kind of fire. It
was resentment. It was the feeling of being left outside
a door that everyone else seemed to walk through easily.
It was the feeling of being told that Destiny had
a plan, only to discover that perhaps Destiny had forgotten him.
His parents noticed, of course, his parents usually do. His
mother tried to remind him that a person didn't need
a dragon to matter. His father told him that strength
came in many forms. Basalt wanted to believe them, but
that was easy for them to say. They had dragons,
They had power, They had armor that appeared when they
needed it. They had stone and metal and sand answering
their call. They had the respect of every person in
the Earth Dragon Kingdom. Basalt had nothing but a name
and a promise that maybe someday things would be different.
Then the Dragon King came, although back then many still
called him the dragon thief. Of course, at first, Basalt
didn't understand what was happening. He remembered alarms ringing through
the mountains. He remembered earth dragons roaring in the distance.
He remembered his mother grabbing his arm and pulling him
through a tunnel while his father showed orders to the
other knights. The earth Dragon Kingdom was built to win
stand attacks. Its walls were not walls in the usual way,
they were mountains. Its gates were not made of wood
that could be burned or metal that could be melted.
They were slabs of solid stone, thicker than houses. The
earth Dragon knights knew every tunnel, every cave, every hidden passage.
They should have been impossible to defeat. But the Dragon
Thief did not fight like an ordinary enemy. He had
dragons of his own, controlled dragons, dragons with glowing eyes,
and riders who didn't share their power but commanded it
like a stolen tool. Basalt watched from a narrow crack
and a stone shelter as fire dragons blasted flames into
the mountain entrances. Water dragons froze doors shut, trapping knights inside.
Nature dragons sensed roots through the cracks and stone, splitting
walls from the inside, and worst of all, elemental dragons came.
Not many, only a few, But a few elemental dragons
were enough. Basalts saw one land on the central training yard,
its veins flashing with every color, every elemental power. Its
rider lifted a hand, and the Earth itself betrayed the
earth dragon knights, opening beneath their feet and throwing them inside.
Basalt's father and Obsidian fought like heroes from the old stories.
Obsidian lifted a section of the mountain and hurled it
towards the invaders. Basalt's father rode atop the dragon's back,
commanding metal from the ground to wrap around the legs
of the controlled dragons. His mother and Slate moved like
shadows through the stone, appearing from one tunnel and disappearing
into another, breaking enemy formations, pulling riders from their saddles,
protecting children and others where they could. For a while,
Basalt thought they might actually win. Then he saw the
dragon thief himself. He stood on the back of an
elemental dragon, wearing robes darker than a cave, with no torch.
He looked calm, not angry, not excited, just calm, as
if the battle was nothing more than a problem he'd
already solved. He lifted both hands, and a strange wave
of magic pulsed through the battlefield. The dragons screamed. Basalt
would never forget that sound. It wasn't pain, exactly, It
was confusion, fear loss. One by one, the true bonds
between dragons and riders began to flicker. Basalt's father shouted something,
but Basalt couldn't hear the words through the roar. Obsidian staggered,
slate crashed into the ground, and then the controlled dragons
moved in. My son, sid the earth Dragon kingdom had fallen.
The true dragon knights were dragged away in chains made
from their own earth and metal. Basalt saw his parents
only once more. Or standing among the captured knights, his
mother spotted him hiding behind a broken stone pillar. For
a moment their eyes met. She shook her head slightly,
do not come. That was what the look meant. His
father saw him too. He didn't wave, he didn't call out.
He simply looked at Basult with pride and sadness, as
if trying to say everything he couldn't say aloud. Then
they were taken away. Basalt was left behind. Maybe the
soldier thought he was too young to matter. Maybe they
didn't realize who he was. Maybe in the chaos, he
simply slipped through the cracks. For three days, he hid
in the ruins of the earth dragon kingdom. He ate
with the little food he could find. He slept and
collapsed tunnels. He waited for his parents to come back.
They did not. On the fourth day, the Dragon King
found him. Basalt was sitting beside one of the old
egg chambers. The eggs were gone, now taken hidden. The
Dragon King stepped into the chamber alone.
Speaker 2: You are the.
Speaker 1: Son of dragon knights, he said. Basalt did not answer,
And yet no dragon chose you. Basalt's hands curled into fists.
Speaker 2: I know that feeling.
Speaker 1: The Dragon King continued to stand near power, to watch
others receive it, to be told that you should be patient,
that you should be grateful, that destiny has simply chosen differently.
Basalt looked up. Then the Dragon King smiled. It was
not a kind smile, but it was an understanding one.
They told you that the egg would choose you one day,
didn't they. Basalt still said nothing, but it never did.
The words hit harder than they should have. The Dragon
King stepped closer. I can give you would they would not?
Basalt frowned. What a dragon? Basalt's breath caught. The Dragon
King turned and gestured toward the doorway. Outside, in the
ruined training yard stood an Earth dragon. Its scales were
dark gray, almost black, and its eyes glowed with the
same strange yellow light Basalted scene in the controlled dragons
during the battle. This dragon has no rider now, the
Dragon King said, no true rider anyways, but I can
link it to you. Not did the old way. The
old way was messy, unfair. It chooses one child and
rejects another. But my way is better. My way allows
power to go where it is deserved. Basalt stared at
the dragon. He knew something was wrong with it, of
course he did. He'd seen free Earth dragons his entire life.
They laughed, they grumbled, they argued, They teased their riders
and knocked over training targets when they fell dramatic. This
dragon stood silent, waiting, almost empty, But it was still
a dragon, and Bassault wanted a dragon more than anything
else he'd ever wanted. My parents, he began. Your parents
fought for a broken system, the Dragon King said, a
system that left you behind. Basalt hated him for seeing it.
He hated him because it was cruel, and he hated
him even more because some small, angry part of him
thought it might be true. The Dragon King extended a hand,
Come with me, be Salt, serve me, and you will
never be powerless again. Basalt should have said no. Somewhere
deep down he knew that. But he thought of the
eggs that had never called to him. He thought of
every child who had been chosen while he stood watching.
He thought of his parents writing dragons while telling him
he mattered without one. And then he looked at the
controlled Earth dragon waiting in the yard. Basalt took the
Dragon King's hand. That was the first choice, not the last,
but perhaps the one that changed everything. The Dragon King
kept his promise in a way. The link he gave
Basalt was not like the true bond Basalt had always imagined.
It didn't feel warm, or natural or alive. It didn't
feel like a second heart beat in his chest. It
felt more like holding chains. The dragon obeyed him because
magic forced it to obey. Still, when Basalt lifted his
hand and the Earth dragon stomped, stone pillars rose from
the ground. When Basalt pointed, The dragon hurled boulders. When
Basalt focused, the dragon shaped the earth itself. The power
was not inside basalt, not really. He didn't share the
dragon's magic the way true dragon knights did. But through
the control link, he could command the dragon to use
its power, and that was enough. At least that's what
he told himself. He trained harder than anyone. He learned
to fight from the back of a dragon. He learned
to read battlefields. He learned how earth could be used
in a thousand different ways. Stone walls for defense, boulders
for attack, metaled chains to restrain enemies, sand to blind them,
dust to hide movements, spikes from below, caves collapsed from above.
The earth was not flashy like fire. It didn't dance
like water or fly like wind. But it endured. It pressed,
it crushed, it waded. But salts understood that he rose
quickly through the ranks. The other soul respected him because
he was useful. The dragon king trusted him because he
had already chosen power. Once over the old ways, and
Basault told himself that he'd done what he needed to
do to survive. He told himself that his parents were
gone anyways, he told himself that the old dragon Knights
had lost. He told himself many things, But at night,
when the controlled Earth Dragon slept outside his quarters, Basalt
sometimes wondered what its real voice had sounded like before
the spell took it away. And sometimes, though he tried
not to, he wondered where his parents were. Years passed,
the Dragon King's rule spread farther and further. The Earth
Dragons were the fourth group of dragons to fall, and finally,
after a long and difficult campaign, even the Air Dragons
were defeated. The true dragon Knights were gone, or imprisoned,
or hiding so well they might as well have been legends.
But the dragon Kings still had one problem. Rebels dragon
knights sympathizers, pesky little groups of farmers, miners, former servants,
escaped prisoners, and ordinary families who refused to accept that
the Dragon Knight's rule would last forever. They lived on
the outskirts, in forests and caves and mountain valleys and
places where the King's patrols had trouble reaching. They stole supplies,
they hid fugitives, they warned villagers when soldiers were coming,
and sometimes they even freed prisoners to the Dragon King.
They were insects, but annoying insects, and insects the Dragon
King believed had to be crushed before they could become
a storm. One day, he summoned Basult to the throne room.
By then, Basult was no longer a frightened boy in
ruined halls. He was a young man, a skilled soldier,
and one of the most promising earth riders in the
King's army. Not a true rider, but no one said
that part outloud. The Dragon King sat on his throne,
looking down at him with that same calm expression he'd
warn during the fall of the Earth Dragon Kingdom Besult,
He said, I have a special mission for you, Basult knelt.
I serve the kingdom. Yes, the Dragon King replied, and
now you will serve it in a way few others could.
He explained the problem. A rebel camp hidden deep in
the outer forest had become more than a nuisance. It
had started organizing other small camps. They'd had spies in
nearby towns, but had helped several wanted families disappear. The
king could attack blindly, but the rebels would scatter. He
needed someone on the inside, someone with a believable story,
someone he could pass as a displaced citizen of the
Earth Dragon kingdom, someone who could tell the truth well
enough to hide the lie. You will leave your dragon behind,
the Dragon King said, You will go as an ordinary man, refugee,
a victim. You will tell them your parents were dragon
knights taken away during the conquest. Basalt looked up sharply.
The Dragon King's expression didn't change. That is true, is
it not. Basalt swallowed.
Speaker 2: Yes.
Speaker 1: Truth is useful, the Dragon King said. People believe truth.
Tell them enough of it and they won't notice the lie.
Basalt understood. He did not like it, but he understood.
When you are accepted, you will send information back by messenger, pigeon, numbers, defenses,
supply routes, names, anything useful, and when you have enough,
Basalt asked, then we end the problem. The words settled heavily.
Basalt bowed his head, as you command. A week later,
Basalt walked alone into the forest, without armor, without dragon,
and without anything that made him look like one of
the Dragon King's soldiers. For the first time in years,
he looked powerless. He hated how familiar that felt. It
took him three days to find the rebel camp, or rather,
it took him three days for the rebel camp to
find him. That was how good they were. Basalt had
been walking through the forest, pretending to limp more than
he really needed to, when a voice suddenly called from
behind him, that's far enough. Basult stopped. He slowly raised
his hands. I am not here to cause trouble, he said.
Then why are you here? The voice asked, Because I
have nowhere else to go. That part was not entirely
a lie. Two people stepped from the trees. One held
a bow, the other held a short spear. They didn't
look like soldiers, but they carried themselves like people who
knew how to survive. The woman with the bow looked
him up and down. Name, Basalt, where from the Earth Kingdom?
That changed their expressions for a moment, the forest seemed quieter.
What happened to you, the woman asked. Basalt looked down.
My parents were dragon knights.
Speaker 2: True ones.
Speaker 1: When the Dragon King took the Earth dragons, my parents
were captured and taken away.
Speaker 2: I escaped.
Speaker 1: I've been trying to survive ever since, all true, every word.
The rebels brought him into their camp. It was hidden
in a valley surrounded by thick forest and rocky cliffs.
There were small homes made from logs and mud, gardens
tucked beneath the trees, and watch posts so well hidden
that even Basalt only spotted half of them. Children ran
between shelters, Adults carried water, sharpened tools, patched clothing, and
prepared meals. It wasn't an army camp exactly. It was
a village, a village made of people who'd refused to
give up. At first. They watched Basalt carefully. They asked questions,
many questions. He answered them well, because his story was
true enough. He told them about the fall of the
Earth Kingdom. He told them about his parents being taken.
He told them about hiding in the ruins. He did
not tell them about the Dragon King finding him, of course,
And he did not tell them about the controlled Earth Dragon.
And he did not tell them that Every few nights,
when the camp slept, he crept out beyond the trees
and tied small notes to messenger pigeons hidden in a
hollow stump numbers, guard rotations, paths through the forest, food stores, names.
He told himself he was only doing what he had
to do. He told himself. These people were rebels, and
rebels broad danger wherever they went. He told himself the
Dragon King would crush them sooner or later. Anyways, each
day he spent there, the words became harder and harder
to believe. The rebels were not monsters. They were farmers
whose crops had been taken, Miners who fled the quarries,
parents hiding children who had spoken too loudly against the king,
old soldiers who still remembered the true dragon knights. And
then there was Bennett's mother. Her name was Mirah. Basalt
met her by a stream while carrying two buckets of
water back to camp, or to be more accurate, he
tripped over a root while trying to look more tired
than he was, dropped both buckets and sent water spilling everywhere.
Mira burst out laughing, not politely, not quietly. She laughed
like the whole force had just told the world's funniest joke.
Basalt sat in the mud, staring at the empty buckets.
I suppose that went well, he said, It depends what
you were trying to do. Mira replied, if you were
trying to water the path, you did beautifully. Basalt tried
not to smile, but he failed. Mira helped him up,
handed him one of the buckets, and walked with him
back to the stream. She was clever, kind and stubborn,
and the way that forest people often were. She knew
which berries to eat, which mushrooms were, you know, not poisonous,
and exactly how to insult a person while making them
feel better at the same time. At first, Basult told
himself that he should probably avoid her. Then he told
himself that getting close to someone in the camp might
help his mission. Then he told himself he was only
asking to sit beside her at dinner because she knew
useful information. He told himself many things, but none of
them were really true. The truth was he loved her.
He didn't mean to, he didn't plan to, but it happened,
and for the first time since the fall of the
earth Dragon Kingdom, Basalt felt like he wasn't just surviving,
he was living. The rebel camp accepted him more fully
after that. Mirah trusted him, and others trusted Mira. That
meant they trusted him too. Over time, he stopped feeling
like an outsider pretending to belong and began to feel
like a man who accidentally found a home that made
the messenger pigeon thing harder. Each note felt heavier than
the last, Each piece of information seemed less like strategy
and more like betrayal. But he kept sending them because
by then he was trapped. If he stopped, the dragon
king would know if he confessed, the rebels would hate him.
If he ran, soldiers would come anyways. So he stayed,
and then Bennett was born. Basalt had thought he understood
love when he met Mirah, but he was wrong. The
first time he held his son, something inside him changed,
not softly, not gently. It cracked like stone under pressure.
The baby was tiny and wrinkled and angry about being cold.
He had Mirah's eyes and Basalt's serious frown, which everyone
found funny except Bennett himself, who seemed deeply offended by
the entire world. What should we call him, Mira asked.
Basalt looked down at the little boy in his arms.
He'd spent most of his life chasing power, wanting a dragon,
wanting respect, wanting to be chosen. But this child had
chosen him, without knowing anything about him, without caring what
he'd done, without caring what he'd failed to become Bennett,
ba Sault said softly. Mirah smiled Bennett. For a short time,
life was wonderful. Danger still existed beyond the forest, of course,
the Dragon King still ruled, patrols, still searched, rebels, still
whispered about supply lines and safe routes. But inside that
small hidden camp, but Salt had something he'd never expected
to have a family. He held Bennett while Mira slept.
He fixed roofs. He carried water without spelling it. Most
of the time. He taught some of the younger children
how to tell the different kinds of stone apart. And
each time he looked at his son, he felt the
truth pressing harder against his chest. He couldn't keep doing this,
He couldn't keep sending messages. He couldn't keep feeding the
Dragon King information that might one day bring soldiers to
Bennett's door. Then the order came. The message arrived by
pigeon just before dawn. Basalt opened the tiny scroll with
shaking hands. The Dragon King had enough information. The camp
would be attacked in three days. Earth dragons would seal
the exits, fire dragons would burn the shelters. Wind dragons
would stop anyone from escaping through the trees, the rebels
would be captured. Basalt read the message three times, then
he burned it. For the rest of the day, he
moved like a man and made of stone. He helped
repair of fens. He carried wood. He smiled when Mira spoke.
He held Bennett, but inside the earth itself seemed to
be splitting open beneath him. That night, when Bennett was asleep,
Basaul told Mira the truth, not all at once. He
tried to begin gently. He failed. I have something to
tell you, he said. Mirah looked at him, immediately, knowing
it was bad.
Speaker 2: What is it?
Speaker 1: Basault took a long breath. I wasn't a refugee when
I came here. Mira didn't speak. I was sent here. Still,
she said nothing. The silence was worse than shouting. Basaul
told her everything. He told her about the Dragon King
finding him. He told her about the controlled earth dragon,
about being linked to it. He told her about becoming
a soldier. He told her about the pigeons. Mirah's face
changed with every sentence, confusion, hurt anger. By the time
he finished, she looked at him like he was a stranger,
wearing the face of someone she loved. You gave them
our names, she whispered. Basalt didn't answer, But that was
an answer itself. I was wrong, Basalt said, I know
I was wrong, but I can still save you. The
Dragon King is coming three days from now. You need
to leave tonight. You and Bennett. Mirah's eyes narrowed. You're
not coming.
Speaker 2: I can't.
Speaker 1: You mean you won't. Basalt flinched. Maybe she was right,
Maybe he was still a coward. Maybe he was still
that resentful boy in the ruined egg chamber, taking the
king's hand because power was easier than pain. But there
was one thing he knew for sure. If I go
with you, he will hunt us. He'll search every forest,
every mountain, every village. But if I return, if I
tell him what he expects to hear, if I stay
inside the army, I can keep him away from you.
Mira shook her head. You expect me to believe that, no,
Basalt said, I don't, but I need you to go anyways.
He took a small stone from his pocket. He was
smooth and dark, polished by years of worry. Between his fingers.
My father gave me this when I was young. Give
it to Bennett when he's older, or throw it into
a river if you'd rather. I don't deserve to ask
anything of you. Mira stared at the stone for a moment,
then she took it. Before dawn, Mira left with her son.
She didn't say goodbye. Basalt watched from the trees as
she disappeared into the forest, carrying Bennett wrapped against her chest.
Then he walked the other way back to the Dragon King.
The rebel camp fell two days later. Basalt made sure
many of the people escaped, not obviously, of course, never obviously.
The Dragon King considered the mission a success. The camp
was destroyed, several rebel leaders were captured, supplies were seized
and besie well. He was rewarded. Over time, he rose
higher and higher in the army. Eventually he became the
earth Dragon General. He had more soldiers under his command
than he'd ever imagined, He had a powerful controlled earth Dragon,
and he had the Dragon King's trust. He also had nightmares.
He did many things he wasn't proud of. He crushed
rebel supply lines, he broke mountain hideouts, but he kept
his promise. He kept soldiers away from Mirah and Bennett
through spies scouts and carefully placed lies, but assault watched
from a distance. He learned that Mira had traveled far
beyond the ordinary patrol routes. He learned that she'd eventually remarried,
a good man of four worst rebel, who knew how
to survive, and who loved Bennett as his own. That hurt,
but it also helped, because by all reports, the man
was kind. Bennett grew strong. He learned the forest, He
learned to hunt, to build fires, to read tracks, to survive.
Basalt heard stories of him from time to time, and
one day a very interesting story arrived. Bennett had found
an earth dragon, a real one, a free one. He'd
become a true dragon Knight. For a long time after
reading that report, Basalt couldn't move. His son had been chosen.
The thing Basalt had wanted his entire childhood had come
to Bennett, and to Basult's surprise, he didn't feel resentment.
He was happy for his son, but also worried because
a true dragon Knight wouldn't be able to hide forever,
not with the dragon kings searching, not with strongholds being
taken back and the fire dragons being freed, and the
water dragons rising up, and that whole nature dragon thing
he just heard about recently. And now, according to every
report coming through Basalt's spy network, Bennett and the new
Dragon Knights were coming for the Earth Kingdom Stronghold, his stronghold,
the place where controlled Earth dragons waited and rose, their
glowing eyes fixed ahead, their riders ready for war. Basalt
stood at the highest balcony of the stronghold, looking out
over the mountains. Everything was prepared, Everything was ready except Basult,
because soon his son would come. Bennett would come wearing
true dragon Earth armor, riding a dragon that had chosen
him freely, and Basult would have to decide what kind
of man he really was. Was he the resentful boy
who took the Dragon King's hand. Was he the soldier
who betrayed a rebel camp. Was he the general who
served the dragon thief? Or was he still somewhere deep
beneath all that stone, the father who had once held
a tiny baby in his arms and named him Bennett.
He went to sleep that night slightly uneasily, because he
knew that tomorrow would likely be the day he'd have
to decide.
Speaker 2: Good Night everyone, m.
Speaker 1: M M
Speaker 2: M