“If someone is looking to do you harm, kill them before they can kill you. I never understood why people in books never did that. A popular book I remember reading was about a Sesserrechien spy who succeeded in continuously preventing the plans of an evil warlord in his attempts to rule all of Essinendeür. More than once the evil warlord had the spy captured at at his mercy where he proceeded to tell the spy all about his plans, and of course give the spy time to escape. Why didn’t the evil warlord simply cut off the spy’s head and have done. I know it’s just a story, but it’s stupid.”

- The Problems in this World by Eon Ingflem   

“Ones worth is not measured by how many times they fail, but how they continue to try despite the failures.”

- Unknown

Year 3632, the Sixth Age, the forty-ninth day of Winter

Lieut absently rubbed away the dried blood on his forearm as he leaned against a street light. It had been snowing for several days now and most of the streets of Crydon were clogged with white snow as no one was clearing it away. All were too busy with the civil discord which had taken a strangle hold on the city.

Over the past days Lieut had been fighting for the Elder Races, and their supporters, as they battled against the others who were trying to lynch them. Battle cries of killing Gildon’s followers were common that many of the humans had screamed right before Lieut had sliced them apart.

Honestly Lieut did not really care for the disagreement between the Elder Races and the humans. The only reason he was fighting for the Elder Races was because Vythe was doing so.

Lieut finished rubbing away his last victim’s blood and looked up to see Vythe approaching him through the gentle falling snowflakes.

“This is taking too long,” Lieut remarked to Vythe.

“What do you mean?” Vythe smiled, “We have already taken back much of the city, and most now are surrendering and looking to apologise for their actions.”

“Look at this lot,” Vythe remarked and motioned to the many humans that were being brought from a large building into the courtyard, “They say that they only took up arms because a bunch of others told them too. Apparently they had no clue what was going on.”

Lieut sighed and looked up to the heavy clouds that covered the sky.

“That is not what I meant,” Lieut said, “This is taking too long. We should have already made an assault on the castle instead of fighting our way through the streets in the opposite direction to the castle.”

Vythe shook his head, “We need to gather all the citizen together, weed out only the ones seeking blood and make sure all are of one mind before rallying at the castle. Only then will the Lords who hold King Lienthor and his family see reason and surrender peacefully.”

Lieut scoffed, “How many days has it been since Xanthia teleported into the castle? We should have attacked the castle then instead of giving the Lords more reason to think that killing Lienthor is their best option. Do you think that if all the commoners show up at the gates of the castle that the Lords will simply give up? More likely they will hang Lienthor and his wife and children from the walls and claim rulership.”

“That will cause the citizens to riot,” Vythe replied with a shake of his head, “The people Krnōrel love King Lienthor very much.”

“The Lords won’t care,” Lieut was quick to say, “They are safe in their castle, what can the commoners do?”

“The Lords are not fools,” Vythe replied, “They will realise that they have lost and surrender.”

“What do you think the King will do to those Lords who surrendered, who betrayed him?” Lieut asked seriously, “He will have them killed, and he would be right to do so. The Lords will not surrender. Vythe, I have sacked many more cities then you have, I know what will happen. I have seen what happens. We should have made an attack on the castle before the Lords realise that they have nothing left to lose.”

Doubt came to Vythe’s features and he glanced back to the many surrendered citizen that now mulled about the courtyard.

“But do whatever you wish,” Lieut said, “The outcome does not concern me.”

“How can you say that?” Vythe asked suddenly, his eyes narrowed.

“Easily,” Lieut replied evenly, “It has no effect on me personally, so why should I care?”

Vythe let out a disgusted sigh, “I thought you had changed Lieut. These events will affect you and those around you, maybe not directly or right away. But they will one day and in some way.”

Vythe turned away and headed back to the gathered crowd and with a sigh Lieut followed.

“Who is your leader?” Lethain Rook demanded, her eyes fierce.

“Calm yourself Rook,” Vythe cut in, “These people are frightened.”

The half-elf scoffed and moved away.

“What is your name?” Vythe asked the closest man.

“Dreu, sir,” the man replied hesitantly, “I want to say that I got nothing against the Elder Races, nor do any of the other here.”

“Those are the words of man who is just captured,” Rook came back and glared at the man.

“Then why take up arms?” Vythe asked and softly pushed the fiery half elf away.

“We were told to,” another man said, “We didn’t know what was going on. Next thing everyone’s dying and running from that Nevārancien. We held up here thinking we were safe, and then yous show up. Please sir, don’t kill us.”

“No one is going to kill anyone,” Vythe reassured the many gathered. “Now Dreu, tell me of the man who told you to fight.”

“I don’t know who he was,” Dreu shook his head, “A big fella from Gaianaus most like, ugly scar across his face, and a fierce temper.”

“I heard someone say he used to be part of the Black Pine Company,” someone spoke up from the crowd, “Leaded them in fact and got that gross scar from the battle on the Morrow Plains those years ago.”

“Was Blarric his name?” Vythe asked curiously and the man shrugged.

“I never seen him before,” Dreu said with a bewildered expression.

“Where is he now?” Rook demanded.

“I don’t know,” Dreu stammered, “But I heard that a bunch of them are fighting out of a warehouse on the northern docks. That’s all I know I swear it. Please don’t kill us.”

“You will not be killed my good man,” Vythe said emphatically, “You can either join us in bringing order back to your city, or go back to your homes. The choice is yours.”

Lieut shook his head and he could see that Rook shared his doubts.

“They should be killed before they turn on us again,” Rook remarked quietly as she came to stand beside him. “They are all remorseful and scared now that they are caught. But I saw hatred in their eye when I was fighting them.”

Lieut nodded slightly, “I wonder whose side they will take when another riot breaks out?”

“And they are not even looking to help us win back the city,” Rook growled and shook her head as most of the captured humans began to leave the courtyard and return to their homes.

“You have an interesting view for a Regional Commander,” Lieut remarked, turning a curious eye to Rook.

“I am half Valenthōr, remember,” Rook replied quickly, “The blood of the Elder Races flow through my veins. I worked hard to achieve my command, overlooked many times for candidates less skilled then me. I may have gained status in this world, but that does not stop others looking down on me because of my heritage.”

Rook faced Lieut directly, “I love Krnōrel and its people, and I will do everything I can to make it better and see that this discrimination against the Elder Races, and anyone who has the blood of the Elder Races, stopped. I will see to it personally that people like this Blarric man are exterminated like any other vermin.”   

Rook turned away headed off Lieut as Vythe came towards him smiling.

“If we take out Blarric the rest will fall,” Vythe said happily.

“We should be taking the castle,” Lieut shook his head.

“After we neutralise Blarric,” Vythe nodded sternly.

Lieut sighed, “It is your decision.”

Vythe nodded slowly and regarded Lieut closely.

“On my head be it,” Vythe nodded and turned away and looked for Rook.

Although the skies were dark and the streets lights shone dimly through the light fall of snow it was still early in the morning. As Lieut set out with the squadron of commoners ready to fight Vythe expressed his hopes that the fighting in Crydon would finish by the end of the day. 

Moving through the streets and over the many islands of Crydon they came across little resistance and it was soon clear that the remaining resistance had retreated to the docks on the northwest of the city.

It was about midday when they came to the small islands that marked the warehouse district of the city. The snow had stopped but the clouds remained heavy and dark. It was along a wide road beside the river where the large group stopped and Rook sent a trio of elven archers, who were wearing all white, to scout ahead.

The archers were back soon with news that the remaining resistance had holed up in a large warehouse island right on the water. All bridges leading onto the island were guarded and many archers walked along the low wall that ran about the island. With a piece of charcoal Rook squatted down and began drawing what the elves had described on the smooth large pavers of the road. 

It was then that Vythe and Rook began to discuss the best approach, but their planes soon turned to an argument.

“I have studied the five volumes of The Art of War by Lord Tharadain,” Vythe said arrogantly, “I know well how to lay siege plans.”

“I am Regional Commander of Krnōrel,” Rook replied evenly, “I have written many books on battle strategies.”

“Enough,” Lieut interrupted with annoyance, “The rabble will fall when Blarric does. Focus your strategies on killing him first.”

“That is what we are discussing,” Vythe replied, also annoyed.

“I am not suggesting things to be discussed,” Lieut was quick to say, “I am telling you both what will happen. Make a full assault upon the western bridge with all our forces. I will head to the roof tops on the east and jump across where the river is narrow. Then I will locate Blarric and kill him.”

“Throwing all our men at one bridge limits our chances,” Rook was shaking her head.

“I was not making a suggestion,” Lieut replied sternly. “Make sure your men don’t lose their lives stupidly. Their attack is a distraction, nothing more.”

“Alright Lieut,” Vythe nodded, “I guess you know what you are doing. But I am coming with you.”

“Of course I know what I am doing,” Lieut flared angrily, “I single headedly sacked Sentrin Gate.”

“I will come also,” Rook said a she wiped away the charcoal plans.

“Tell your rabble of fighters what to do and let’s go,” Lieut sighed and both Rook and Vythe moved to relay the plan to the waiting force.

Soon the group marched away and Lieut led both Vythe and Rook towards the east. As soon as he found the chance Lieut headed for the rooftops for a better view of the city and of the warehouses in the district. Lieut moved quickly over the tiled roofs and jumped the gaps easily with Vythe and Rook keeping up with him. The rivers dividing the islands in this district of the city were narrow and made it easy to move to the next warehoused and walled island.

The sound of fighting to the west was soon heard and Lieut quickly found himself looking upon the target destination. The island was not overly large and was made up of two warehouses which were enclosed in the low wall. To the north the island went onto the wharfs and out into the ocean which was clogged with ice. In the area between the buildings many men mingled about fires gathering their gear before heading to the western bridge where the sounds of battle were coming from. Half a dozen archers also lined the wall and stood atop the rooves of the buildings, their attention turned towards the west.

Lieut nodded subtly before taking a brief run up and jumping across the narrow gap and onto the roof of the closest warehouse, and Rook and Vythe followed. Lieut landed lightly on the snow covered roof and began looking about the gathered commoners below in search of the one who led them.

It did not take long to spot the large man shouting orders and brandishing a broadsword. Even from this distance Lieut could see the hideous scar that stretched from his left jaw line, across his left eye and over his forehead. Blarric wore a thick fur coat around his shoulders which added to broaden his frame. His long black hair flew about in the chill wind as he shouted at his men and pointed to the western bridge.

With Vythe and Rook beside him, Lieut dropped from the roof of the building and began walking calmly towards Blarric. Most of the people fighting were to the west so it was not until Lieut was about a dozen paces from the man did Blarric see them approach. Suddenly he was shouting at his men to come from the western bridge and attack them.

Lieut moved away from Vythe and Rook as a group of men charge from the right. He noticed that Vythe had done the same, but Rook made a straight line for Blarric. Lieut knew that Rook would be hard pressed to defeat Blarric so he made short work of the group of four attackers.

No blades touched Lieut as he darted in between the attackers, spinning past their attacks and severing limbs. Every one of his feints drew them in and he killed them. The last one fell as he made a pirouette, slapped aside the man’s axe and sliced his hamstring. The man dropped to his knee and Lieut drove his sword through the attacker’s back.

Lieut quickly moved from his last kill and headed to where Rook and Blarric were fighting viciously. But from Lieut’s trained eye he could tell that Rook would lose.

The battle at the western bridge caught his attention for a moment and he saw that their forces had begun to break through the defences and push into the yard. Vythe’s fight also caught his interest as a blast of magicks sent several attackers flying backwards and Vythe’s Fog created double ended spear began to slice into the remaining ones.

Lieut’s focus was suddenly brought back to the engagement between Blarric and Rook. The half-elf had all but lost as the burly man knocked her sword out of her hands and grabbed her by the throat.

Lieut knew he had to do something and moved quickly. But just as he moved towards them a group of men came running from the building towards him. Thinking quickly Lieut forced his thoughts to the power within his sword. The Anther Crystals had not much Fog within them but it was enough for one attack. Grabbing his sword with both hands Lieut swept the blade horizontally towards the coming group and at the same time commanded his sword to release its power. The edge of his blade burned brightly and a wave of energy slashed out from his sweep and thundered into the men. The power of the attack blew the group backwards through the air and ripped them apart. Blood and limbs splattered across the snow and Lieut turned his attention back to Blarric and Rook.

The former member of The Black Pine Company did not see him coming as he darted in from Blarric’s blind side. Lieut’s sword flashed and cleanly severed the man’s hand that was choking the life out of Rook.

The Regional Commander fell to her knees coughing violently and into the snow beside her landed Blarric’s forearm.

Fiercely the large man turned on Lieut and looked to say something, but no words came. Blarric’s chest suddenly lunged forward as a stone spear erupted with blood. The stone spear lifted the man from his feet which were twitching as the last light left Blarric’s good eye.

By now the rest of the forces had broken through the barricades and had routed the defending side. Most surrendered almost instantly, but some fought viciously to the death as they proclaimed their hatred for the Elder Races.

“He was a tough one,” Vythe remarked as he came over to Lieut looking at the man still impaled on the stone spike.

“I would have killed him,” Lieut said simply and Vythe smiled.

“No doubt you would have,” Vythe said as he knelt beside Rook, who was still on her knees. “But I killed him first.”

“Are you alright Rook?” Vythe asked, turning his attention to the half-elf.

“I will be fine,” Rook replied as she stood, “With that bastard dead we will have control of the city soon and bring order back to the streets.”

Vythe nodded and Rook left them and went to her forces, who had quickly set about relaying messages through the city that the fighting had ended.

Later that afternoon Lieut was standing out on a terrace that overlooked a small waterfall. This was part of a restaurant’s outside dining area, but there were no tables and chairs about the place now. During the fighting they had used this building as a control hub to strike out from, and it provided a clear view of the castle island.

The skies had cleared up some and no more snow was falling, but a chill remained in the air that blew off the Golden Sea to the east.

“You know where the Princess is, yet you linger here,” Kreha said as she suddenly appeared sitting on the stone railing beside him. “We wonders why, yes we do.”

“Where have you been?” Lieut asked angrily as he looked to the young woman. “Many times I waited for your aid, yet none came. I had Xanthia in company yet no word came from you to say what to do next.”

“I am here now,” Kreha snapped back, her dark eyes glowing furiously.

But Lieut did not back away from the power emanating from her.

Lieut eventually sighed and looked away, “Then tell me, what do I do now? Did you want me to kill Xanthia, or just find her, you never said?”

Kreha smiled, “It is good it listens. The Princess does not need to die.”

“Then why tell me to go after her?” Lieut asked with frustration.

“So you would find your memories, sillies,” Kreha laughed as if it were obvious, “That is what we said, don’t you remember? It can be so smart, yet other times so silly. We knows, we can see.”

Kreha giggled girlishly and rocked back and forth on the railing, nearly falling backwards and down the twenty foot drop.

“Then what do I do now?” Lieut asked with a sigh.

“Anything you want,” Kreha was again serious. “You have helped us, and we have helped you. Equal we are.”

Lieut looked curiously at Kreha, not knowing what to say.

“But there was a point to you asking me and Raith to do those things for you, wasn’t there?” Lieut asked with annoyance.

Kreha’s features went dark and a thin smile came to her face.

“Of course there was,” Kreha said seriously, “The time is very close now, and you will still be a part of it. I say for you to go about your own business because events are now fully in motion. I know where your path is going to lead you and along it we will meet again. And there you may help me as you wish, or not, it is up to you.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Lieut asked and Kreha smiled sweetly.

“You will see,” Kreha replied and went back to rocking on the railing, “We will meet very soon again. We knows, yes we do.”

Kreha giggled and fell backwards off the railing and down the waterfall, but she disappeared the moment she began to fall.

Lieut sighed and looked back to the castle as the light from Inüer came from behind a cloud and shone upon the walls.

“Lieut,” Vythe called as he joined him out on the balcony, and looked about curiously. “You are by yourself? I thought I heard you talking to someone?”

Lieut shook his head, “Just me.”

“Right,” Vythe nodded and looked at Lieut suspiciously as he lent on the railing. “Anyway, I have news, the first to come in since the fighting within the walls had begun. There has been fighting on the border with I’ender, Ledolm, Calias and Bregta have all fallen. Apparently the Lord of Bregta attacked Tyn and failed, and the Lord of Tyn responded in kind with the Lord of Hollenfll joining him.”

“Who won?” Lieut asked absently, his thoughts elsewhere.

“Neither apparently,” Vythe replied, “An arm of Elder Races sacked the town of Bregta along with all the armies. Which sparked the fighting here of course. But that’s not the news. The new King of I’ender, King Haron is marching a great host north to the Krnōrel-I’ender border. Clearly he does not believe the tales of the Elder Races and blames King Lienthor for the attack.”

Lieut did not reply and continued to look at the castle.

“But that is not the worst of it,” Vythe continued and Lieut looked at him, “There have been claims that bands of Djarcs have been roaming the planes of Kalladen, killing all they find. They say the Djarcs have come from the abandoned city of Gun dürin. I think it is impossible though, Djarcs were creations of Gildon, and he was destroyed, so there cannot be any of the foul creatures around. Can there?”

Lieut could see that Vythe was very concerned about this news, but he had no words to ease Vythe’s mind.

“Any news from Sesserrech?” Lieut asked, changing the topic.

“Some,” Vythe nodded sadly, “Fighting between my father and Lord Cardonian has escalated, claiming the life of my brother Vhaan.” 

Again Lieut did not know what to say.

“Lord Cardonian has doomed himself,” Vythe said angrily, “My father will rip his heart out. I can tell from the news that it has already begun. Cardonian’s wealth has been stolen from the Merchant Bank and his head businessman who deals with all stock and trade out of The Port has gone into seclusion to deal with his Sap addiction. Apparently Cardonian is publicly claiming my father caused it all. Which I have no doubt he did, but there would be no evidence to support that. I only wish I could be there to see it all unfold.”

“We still can,” Lieut remarked, “Finish up here and then we can leave.”

Vythe nodded, “I think you may have been right though. We should have gone to the castle as soon as Xanthia teleported.”

Lieut smirked and looked at Vythe, “I bet you were loathed to say that.”

“You have no idea,” Vythe replied evenly. “How are we to do it?”

“Teleport in, just as Xanthia had,” Lieut said.

“That won’t work,” Vythe shook his head, “They would have put wards in place to stop it as soon as they realised how Xanthia did it.”

“You are giving them too much credit,” Lieut was quick to say, “There would have been wards in place before Xanthia teleported. Which means she teleported to a location that could not be guarded, or they did not know was there. The royal wharf perhaps or a secluded cove along the cliff.”

Vythe stroked his chin, “Perhaps,” he nodded, “I will only be able to tell by trying, but we should wait until night.”

“I thought you be apposed to teleporting, to be honest,” Lieut remarked curiously, “Is the demon still not after you?”

Vythe shrugged, “It seems not. Xanthia tried to teleport us from Elmnest to Crydon to begin with, and although it it did not turn out that well, no demon captured me. So I am betting it will not happen this either.”

“And if it does?” asked Lieut.

“Then I guess you and I will just have to kill it,” Vythe laughed with a wide smile and slapped Lieut on the shoulder.

Lieut nodded and smiled slightly as he looked back to the castle, it was already late afternoon and he was content to wait for the dark of night.

“Lieut,” Vythe spoke up after several minutes of silence, “How cities have you sacked?”

“Several,” Lieut replied honestly, “Two more significant than the others.”

“Sentrin Gate?” Vythe asked remembering the name Lieut had spoken.

“That one I sacked singlehandedly,” Lieut replied simply.

“Tell me about it,” Vythe encouraged him, and Lieut gave him a strange look. “I am curious.”

“Fine,” Lieut began and Vythe took out some food and drink, “It would have to have been near on fifty years ago.”

Vythe nearly choked on the bread he was eating, “How old are you Lieut?”

Lieut shrugged, “By human years, probably around ninety. I do not count.”

“What?” Vythe balked in astonishment.

“Do you want to hear what happened or not?” Lieut asked irritably.

“Yes, of course,” Vythe gathered his composure, “Please continue.”

“Like I said, it was nearly fifty years ago,” Lieut began again, “Our northern realm in Nevārance, called Kor’vir, had run out of much of its natural resources. So the High King ordered the invasion of the southern realm, Syn’is. The two realms are joined by a narrow stretch of land covered in rocky mountains and sand. It is a place of extreme heat where only a brown grass can grow that covers much of the land. But that grass easily catches fire, and because it is so extensive the whole of the land can be in flame at a single moment. We call this narrow, hot land the Hell Fire Pass. The pass is blocked off by two great walls, Korin’s Gate in the north and Sentrin Gate at the south.

“We in Kor’vir control Korin’s Gate, but to move freely into Syn’is we had to get past Sentrin Gate. This is where my brother’s and I excel, and we were tasked with defeating all at Sentrin Gate and opening the way for our army.

“Me and my brothers spilt up through the Pass, we went under the cover of night. I killed all Syn’is patrols I came across and moved into position to wait for my brothers to do the same. But they were delayed so I took the Gate myself.

“First, I climbed up the five hundred foot high wall and moved straight to secure the gate house and open the massive doors. I succeeded and the doors began to open. Instantly the whole of the forces positioned at Sentrin Gate descended upon me. But I killed them all.

“My brothers were not too happy about it,” Lieut finished with a slight smile, “But I had allowed the army of Kor’vir to move into Syn’is unopposed.”

Vythe shook his head in bewilderment, “And the second significant time?”

“It was when the army of Kor’vir took the old city of Cir’ben,” Lieut replied, “My brothers and I led a battalion each and all received accolades at the victory ceremony.”

Again Vythe shook his head in bewilderment.

“Remarkable stories,” Rook said as she joined them on the balcony, “I forgot to thank each of you for your aid during the fight against Blarric. So, thank you.”

“No need for thanks,” Vythe smiled, but his eyes were still suspicious of Rook, “You would have done the same if our positions were reversed.”

“I will aid you when you attack the castle. I have a duty to do so,” Rook said with a firm expression, “That is still your plan correct?”

Lieut nodded.

“Indeed,” Vythe said and looked to the skies which had grown dark, “And as the night now descends, we should make plans.”

“Which are?” Rook asked.

“Vythe will teleport us in, and there you will each follow my lead,” Lieut was quick to say.

“Do you really think you can teleport in?” Rook looked hesitant.

“Yes,” Lieut replied confidently.

“Well shall we get about it then?” Vythe spoke up, “We all ready?”

“Do you need to ask?” Lieut asked in reply, causing Vythe to smile.

Rook nodded to Vythe and he began to cast a spell of teleportation.

The world before Lieut’s eyes blurred before it shattered like glass to reveal that in fact they had not moved from where they were standing.

Rook looked about in confusion and turned a curious eye to Vythe.

“Well I guess we cannot go there,” Vythe remarked, a sheepish look on his face.

Lieut sighed, “I said to try near the royal wharf.”

“I was,” Vythe replied indignantly.

“Then try further out,” Lieut was quick to say.

“Then we might be bumped into the icy sea,” Vythe replied.

“So be it,” Lieut replied irritably.

Vythe sighed and he began to cast again. As before the world around them blurred and shattered, but this time a different location awaited them.

Next thing Lieut realised was that they were all falling through the air before splashing into the sea on the east side of the castle.

“I told you,” Vythe said as their heads bobbed above the ice clogged water, and he cast another spell upon himself.

“It’s freezing,” Rook stammered and her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Vythe was quick to cast another spell upon the elf and Lieut could tell it was one to keep her warm.

“Come on,” Lieut said and he began to swim through the ice and towards the royal wharf some meters away.

“Vythe, cast a spell of warmth on Lieut as well,” Rook said in shock, “He will freeze.”

“I am fine,” Lieut was quick to say.

“I know it does not make sense Rook, but like he said, he will be alright,” Vythe said as he swam, “Besides the Anther Crystals in Lieut’s sword will absorb any spell I cast at him.”

Rook did not say any more and they finally made it to the end of the wharf where a magnificent schooner was docked. It was the royal ship and had been built in such exquisite detail, the wood was black and the sails were grey and at the figurehead was a golden stag jumping out over the water.

Lieut shook the water from his hair as he started along the wharf and to the large cavern that the wharfs led into. Vythe and Rook followed him into the cave where golden crystal lights floated among the stalactites in the ceiling and a single door led to a flight of stairs at the other end of the cave.

But Lieut stopped halfway to the door as an idea came to him, and he turned to Vythe.

“Vythe, cast a powerful ball of magicks at me,” Lieut said and Vythe gave him a curious look.

“Why?” Vythe asked.

Lieut smirked and drew his sword, “I’m sure you can work that out.”

Vythe turned a quizzical eye to Rook, who shrugged. Vythe suddenly whirled on Lieut and a powerful blast burst forth from his hands.

Lieut was not ready and just managed to cross his sword defensively across his body. The magickal blast thundered into his sword and caused him to slide back a few meters. The blast dissipated into a cloud of Fog that was quickly sucked up by the Anther Crystals at the hilt of his sword, and Lieut narrowed his eyes at Vythe.

Vythe returned Lieut’s glare with a disarming smile.

“Powerful enough for you?” Vythe jested.

Lieut smirked, “One more.”

Vythe returned the smile and launched another wave of Fog magicks at Lieut. But this time Lieut was ready and with a slash of his sword the ball of magicks burst apart with a gush of wind. Once again the Fog was absorbed by Lieut’s sword and he smiled back at Vythe’s shocked expression.

“How are you still so skilled with magicks, Vythe?” Rook asked with a curious look on her face, “I can barely create a fireball now.”

“I took some time to strengthen my connection,” Vythe replied with a shrug as Lieut once again headed towards the door, his sword in hand. “It was very taxing mentally and it took me a whole month before I could sustain my spear for any adequate length of time. Even with the help of these gauntlets.”

Lieut led the way up the spiralling staircase for many minutes before moving through a doorway that led into a small garden courtyard. It was snowing again and they moved quickly along the covered walkway towards the castle’s main building. The gardens and walkways were well lit with many crystal lights, all shinning a different colour which looked magickal as they reflected of the snow.

Lieut smiled to himself as a pair of patrolling guards came around the corner before them. But these two were not the royal guards, and they bore the emblem of one of King Lienthor’s banner men, who was likely the instigator of the betrayal.

The eyes of the two guards went wide as they noticed Lieut and his companions and they fumbled with the spears they were carrying.

“Where in the Abyss did you three come from?” the first guard demanded, his spear lowered towards them.

Vythe and Rook moved to attack the two guards but Lieut cut them off.

“Don’t,” Lieut said to them, “I know what I am doing.”

Hesitantly they both eased, trusting Lieut.

Lieut raised his sword before him and pointed the tip at the guards, who were moving cautiously towards them.

“You have two options,” Lieut said menacingly, “Die, or lead the way to your Lord.”

The guards glanced nervously at each other.

“Drop your weapons,” the second guard demanded.

“That was not one of the options,” Lieut replied coldly.

Again the guards looked nervously to each other.

“There is only three of them,” the first guard mumbled to the second.

“Alright,” the second guard nodded, “Start walking then you lot.”

“I said lead the way,” Lieut replied calmly.

The guards hesitated and looked to each other before shrugging and motioning for Lieut and his companions to follow.

Lieut smiled to himself and followed the first guard while the second moved behind Vythe and Rook.

“You lot are just in time to meet the rest of the distinguished captives,” the first guard laughed over his shoulder as he led the way along the covered walkways and in through small door.

Down a corridor they walked and into the grand throne room where many guards had gathered. Kneeling before the throne was the King and his wife and children, and behind them stood three grim faced guards with drawn swords.

Sitting on the King’s throne was another rich looking man with a strong face and broad shoulders. Although he wore expensive clothes at his side was belted a slender blade and on his left shoulder was an enamelled plate shoulder guard.

“M’Lord Darrain,” the guard who was leading Lieut spoke up as they entered, “We caught these three slinking about the gardens.”

“Vythe,” Xanthia called out from beside her father, “What kind of rescue do you call this?”

“Perhaps you should not have teleported here in the first place.” Vythe was quick to reply.

Xanthia started to say something but she was silenced by the guard behind her who backhanded her over the head.

“Shut it wench,” the guard snapped.

“Come now, there is no need for that,” Lord Darrain spoke as he rested comfortably in the throne, its black and silver antlers shining above his head.

“Who are you?” the traitorous Lord asked as he turned his attention back to Lieut. “And why are they still armed?”

“To kill you,” Lieut was quick to say and his sword arm shot forward.

Magicks surged quickly within his sword and as he stabbed forward at the Lord a spear of energy seared through the air. The energy shot across the hall and exploded into Lord Darrain’s head with a shower of blood and through the stone throne, shattering the large window that looked out onto the gardens and Golden Sea.

Before anyone knew what had happened, Lieut moved again and slashed the air in the direction of the guards behind the King and his family. Another blade of magickal energy flashed through the air and ripped apart the three guards by Xanthia, covering the royal family in blood and bone matter.

The guards around the room finally realised what was happening, but it was too late to do anything. And as the two guards that brought Lieut and his companion fell dead the rest surrendered without a fight.

“Master Varrintine,” King Lienthor said as he got to his feet, helping the Queen up also before he moved to his throne, “I remember saying that if I ever saw you again I would have your head.”

Lienthor calmly grabbed a handful of the dead Lord Darrien’s robe and roughly pulled him from the throne. He then took up his rightful seat and looked menacingly at Vythe.

“Never would I have thought I would be so pleased to see you again,” a rare smile came to the King’s face. “I think it fitting that I should pardon you from your previous crimes in this realm. After all it is obvious that you had no hand in my daughter’s assassination, for here she is, alive and well. You each must tell me in detail what transpired those years ago and why you thought it well to cause so much grief to myself and my Queen.”

Vythe exchanged an awkward look with Xanthia.

“But first I need to bring my kingdom to order, so it is good that you are here as well, Rook.” King Lienthor said and stood up, and Rook bowed in respect.

The King then looked to the remaining guards in the hall, “Lord Darrien’s guardsmen. What is the meaning of your treachery.”

“My King,” one guard came forward and knelt in front of the throne, “I am Captain Tanyic, and these are my men. We only ever followed the command of our Lord Darrian, as we have sworn to do. There is no treachery in my heart, or the heart of my men. I offer my sword to you as a sign of fealty, and I offer my life that the lives of men are spared.”

All the guards in the throne room knelt as well, their heads bowed. King Lienthor looked to each of the guards with stern expression as he weighed his options.

“I shall spare your men, Captain Tanyic,” Lienthor decided, “And I will confiscate the lands and wealth of Lord Darrian, so you and you men are now under my rule alone until such time that I decide to grant the lands to another, if at all.”

The Captain nodded, “I ask that it be you, my King, who is the one to take my life.”

“I will if you ever interrupt me again,” Lienthor snapped back angrily, “But now you will release my royal guards from the dungeons immediately.”

The Captain stood up and bowed before quickly leaving the throne room with two other of his guardsmen.

“Now master Varrintine,” King Lienthor said as he approached Vythe, “Introduce your Nevārancien companion, then you and Rook tell me what has been happening in my city.”

“Of course my King,” Vythe bowed, “I have the pleasure of introducing my good friend Lieut.”

“You seem familiar Nevārancien,” Lienthor said suddenly as he walked over, “Have we met before?”

“No,” Lieut said evenly, his eyes not shying away from the Kings.

“All you Nevāranciens look the same anyway,” Lienthor replied, “And you all lack respect.”

“I respect you,” Lieut said, causing King Lienthor to raise an eyebrow, “I just don’t respect your title.”

King Lienthor smiled slightly and turned back to Vythe and Rook, “Tell me of the events with in my walls. Lord Darrien had kept my blind to the turmoils of my people.”

Vythe nodded and proceeded to explain the events of the rioting within the city. Many times Vythe invited Rook to explain matters which had been happening before they had arrived at Crydon. By the time both Rook and Vythe had finished the royal guard had come into the throne room with Captain Tanyic at the fore. It was a curious sight to see all the royal guards, who had been stripped of their armour and now knelt before their King in naught but their under clothes. But both the men and the women of the guard did not seem to care and were overjoyed to see their King alive and once again in control.

“My first command to you all is this,” King Lienthor said loudly as he returned to his throne. “To restore order to our city, help the wounded and needy, set about repairing the damage, and bring in the news from the rest of our lands.”

“Put some clothes on first though,” the King smirked and an awkward chuckle moved about the half-naked guards.

“Captain Tanyic,” King Lienthor called out as all the guards began to filter out of the throne room, “Remain behind, I wish to have some words with you in private.”

It was late at night by the time that castle once again seemed normal. The other Lords of the court that had been held in their quarters with the castle servants were released, but not before King Lienthor had words with each of them.

It was around midnight when the King called for Vythe and his daughter Xanthia to explain the events that transpired two years ago. Rook had returned to the city to help the guards and left Lieut to walk quietly about the castle on his own.

Lieut’s footsteps made no noise as he walked the white marble corridors, absently looking at the paintings and tapestries that lined the walls. But in truth he eyes were not seeing them, for he was wondering what to do now. Kreha had almost literally told him he could go off and do whatever he wanted to do. But the problem was he did not know what to do.

“Should I look for Raith?” Lieut mumbled to himself as he stopped on a balcony that looked over the eastern gardens and out across the Golden Sea.

“No,” Lieut shook his head.

Although Raith was his brother they were not similar in mind and did not really get along well. It had been the same with all his brothers, the only thing that kept them together was the simple fact that were brothers. Everything between them always ended up becoming a competition, which always became violent. Lieut had won any disagreement that turned to blows, but that only increased the animosity between them. The only reason he had suffered Raith’s companionship from Nivalna to Alabast was because they both had lost their memories and Kreha was guiding them.

“Perhaps I could look for Fairris in Port Na’brath,” Lieut mused, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately as his gut twisted uncomfortably and he suddenly felt nervous.

Lieut shook his head and gritted his teeth in confusion over the sudden emotions he felt.

“Lancer then?” he asked himself, diverting his thoughts from Fairris, “See how all the other Nevāranciens have settled in.”

Lieut smirked, “Gar’lin won’t be happy with that and realising that he can no longer control my every action.”

But where would that end? If he killed the current High King, by law, he would take the King’s place. Lieut was not interested in that.

“I will stay with Vythe then,” Lieut nodded to himself, “King Haron from I’ender is marching his army here, so things could become interesting if I stay.”

Lieut nodded again and firmed his jaw in resolution.

The sound of light footsteps caught his ears and he turned from the balcony to see the Queen calmly join him outside in the chill, her baby in her arms.

“This is the most snow we have had in a long time,” the Queen remarked, her voice light and noble.

Lieut did not reply and considered the Yineth standing beside him, her blonde hair was tired in a high bun and adorned with small diamonds. Her hairstyle also made her long and delicate ears stand out as they sloped back from her beautiful face. Despite the cool air he wore only a light blue robe and on her feet were small velvet slippers.

“You are not tired?” the Queen asked him, her purple-blue eyes sparkling.

“I do not sleep,” Lieut replied simply and looked back to the view.

“Nor do we Yineth,” the Queen replied.

“And what of your half-Yineth daughters?” Lieut asked absently.

“Daughters?” the Queen asked in surprise, “Look again Nevārancien, for my youngest in my arms is a boy.”

That did catch Lieut’s curiosity and he looked to the baby in the Queens arms. The child was sleeping soundly among the fur blankets, it’s Yineth like ears showing clearly.

“A boy?” Lieut asked in surprise, “I thought Yineth were only ever female.”

“Times have changed,” the Queen replied and smiled down at her son. “The first male with Yineth blood will one day be King. He is the future for the Elder Races, their equality will lie with him, and not in the war they are creating.”

Lieut looked back to the view, “Then watch over him, for no doubt many would wish to destroy that future.”

The Queen gasped slightly as if she only realised that and the young child began to cry. Pleasantly she bid Lieut good night and left the balcony attempting to ease her crying child.

Lieut remained at the balcony for what remained of the night and watched the next morning come with heavy clouds and falling snow. That morning King Lienthor called everyone to the throne room where he set about laying down Declarations. The first of which was to declare that no longer will there be discrepancies between the Elder Races and humans. By King’s command all would now be known as citizens of Krnōrel with equal pay, equal opportunity and equal land rights. Ancient lands would have the recognition that they deserve and any who would perpetuate inequality, regardless of race, would be held to the full extent of the law.

Such a declaration initially brought concern to many, but they were quick to accept it and it seemed to many that this step by King Lienthor would bring about the end of the battling with the Elder Races.

The atmosphere soon turned dark though as news came from outside the city walls.

“I have seen it myself my King,” a strong knight said as he knelt before the throne. “Woodlands, Ledolm, Calias, Bregta and Waifald all in ruin.”

The knight’s news brought much concern to the King’s face and the hall erupted in a murmur of despair.

“My scouts say that King Haron has reached the town of Hollenfll with a great host,” the knight continued, “But that is not the worst of the news.”

The knight stood and emptied the burlap sack that had been at his side and half a dozen heads fell onto the white marble floor.

“Djarcs,” someone gasped as that dark skin and twisted features of the heads fell for all to see.

The hall quickly became filled with the terrified voices of the occupants as they realised the significance of the return of the Djarcs.

Lieut absently picked some dirt out of the corner of his eye as he leaned against one of the black pillars that held up the second floor of the throne room. He looked about the hall with little concern as the noise steadily grew and the people became more scared.

“Silence,” King Lienthor finally yelled above the clamour and the hall silenced almost immediately. “Sir Belmont, where are these fell creatures coming from?”

“We managed to capture one alive,” the knight continued, “It spoke of the cursed city of Gun Dürin.”

A murmur moved about the gathering again, and again the King silenced it.

“This threat must be dealt with,” King Lienthor said, “Sir Belmont ready the army and let all know this danger that threatens us.”

“My liege, what of King Haron?” the knight asked seriously.

“We will meet with him in the fields of Kalladen,” King Lienthor replied, “And he will understand this danger that attacks our lands and people.”

The knight bowed low and quickly gathered up the heads of the Djarcs and left the throne room. King Lienthor soon left as well and summoned his knights to accompany him. The rest of the courtiers filtered out the doors, mumbling anxiously to each other and leaving Lieut still causally leaning against the pillar a while longer. As he was about to head off and maybe look about the city Vythe came over to him.

“Lieut,” Vythe greeted, “The King has requested that we both join him and the knights.”

“Why?” Lieut asked as he followed Vythe from the hall.

“Perhaps he values our opinions,” Vythe remarked dryly, “I do not see how you can be so flippant.”

Vythe stopped and turned to Lieut, a grave look on his face.

“Those were the heads of Djarcs,” Vythe said grimly, “And that can only mean that Gildon has somehow returned. Do you understand what that means? If we do not stop him all of Essinendeür will burn. I suppose you do not really know what Gildon did to this land, but at least show some concern. At the end of the Third Age he very nearly held complete domination over Essinendeür, the only places of resistance was in the major cities, all else was under his darkness.”

Lieut shrugged, “He was defeated once before. So he can be again. But obviously they did not do a good job of it in the first place.”

“They could not kill him before,” Vythe replied seriously, “They imprisoned him in the Abyss.”

“Are you sure it was not the Void?” Lieut asked absently, and Vythe’s eyes widened in horror. “The Abyss is the unseen world, the spirit world, if you were going to imprison someone it would not be there. The Void would the logical choice considering it is a closed plane of existence, or non-existance, filled with nothing but a flat plane of emptiness. But of course you know that.”

“Of course,” Vythe said to himself and he rubbed a hand over his face. “It must have been the Void. Which means . . . which means that the demon Elardōre and I encountered those years ago, was not a demon at all, but Gildon. What have I unwittingly been the cause of?”

Vythe growled to himself and looked distressed.

“Don’t you see?” Vythe asked emphatically as he turned back to Lieut, “I helped Gildon escape, or at least showed him how he could possibly escape. I talked Elardōre into going into the Void with me, I am such a fool. Gildon must have somehow possessed Elardōre’s mind when we escaped him. I doomed my friend, I killed my friend, and now I have doomed this world.”

Vythe collapsed against the wall and slumped to the ground, his eyes staring into nothing.

Lieut awkwardly glanced up and down the empty corridor they were in, having no idea what to do or say.

“You cannot change the past Vythe,” Lieut finally said hesitantly, “What is done cannot be undone. Do not become caught up in the things that you cannot control. Only the present is within your control.”

Vythe looked dimly up at Lieut.

“Come on,” Lieut offered a hand up to Vythe, “The world is not doomed yet. We can stop it, we can kill Gildon.”

Vythe accepted the hand up, but still looked defeated and depressed.

“How Lieut?” Vythe asked quietly, “They could not before, so how can we now?”

“This time I am here,” Lieut smiled, his golden eyes sparkling, “As are you.”

A slight smile came to Vythe’s face and he motioned for Lieut to follow him along the corridor and into the room where King Lienthor was walking with his knights.

It took several days before the army was ready to move and at its vangard Lieut and Vythe rode beside the King as the plains of Kalladen opened before them.

The first town they came to was Woodlands where much of the forest had been burned and the township was nothing but a broken shell, empty and dead. About the broken buildings floated small balls of Fog called Wisps that danced on the breeze. Initially the soldiers had been concern about the Wisps but several learned in their nature assured all that they were harmless, including Vythe.

“They are also known as M’Aierth’s tears,” Vythe remarked to Lieut, “As if the very earth is crying for the dead.”

“What dead?” Lieut replied, “There are no corpses at all.”

Vythe nodded grimly, “Eaten by necrophages probably.”

“Necrophages don’t eat the bones,” Lieut replied, “And I still see no bones about the place. The Djarcs would have eaten them though, bones and all.”

Lieut’s observation clearly gave great concern to Vythe and many others who heard, but none spoke their hiden fears. They still searched the deserted town and surrounding woods for any survivors, but a day later finding no one, they were on the move again.

From there the army made a straight line for Waifald, for news had come that some were still there. On the ride they came across many bands of Djarcs who fled before them and a few Wisps drifted up through the grasses of Kalladen. On the tenth day out from Crydon they finally came to the sea side town of Waifeld.

Many Djarcs lay dead about the fields and the gates were barred. Smoke rose from above the walls but no one could be seen along the battlements.

Confidently King Lienthor rode his horse up to the gates and shouted loudly.

“Let it be known that I, King Lienthor, have come to the town of Waifeld,” the King shouted, “I bring food, medical equipment and relief for all good folk that hear me.”

The King’s call was replied with silence and for many minutes the King sat upon his horse before the gates.

Lieut heard some activity behind the gates and his eye caught some movement along the wall.

“It really is him,” a sudden shout sounded within Waifald and the gates were thrown open as many haggard individuals came streaming out.

The King quickly called for aid and the refugees were seen to, as many were wounded and starving. That night the army camped around the walls of the town and the King stayed at the keep. Lieut and Vythe were there also and Lieut listened with growing interest to the stories of the survivors. The stories spoke of the fall of Bregta and how the masses of Djarcs forced the army of Waifald to flee the battlefield. But the terror had not stopped there, and for every night since they had been attacked by bands of the foul creatures and steadily their number had decreased. Many believed that this night would have been their last if King Lienthor had not appeared at the gates.

Annoyingly for Lieut, King Lienthor lingered in Waifald for three days and on the morning of the fourth day the army of I’ender appeared to the south.