Marcus was a man hardened by war. Over the years he gained more than a few enemies that would rather see him dead. There was no way he could survive this long without some sort of protection. Therefore, while his cavalry roamed through the south of Igbal, visible to the naked eye, there was also his invisible corps trailing behind, protecting him and his officers. His invisible corps were also there to run surveillance on every member of his company for possible traitors. Some were even scouting ahead and relaying messages about possible dangers.

This invisible corps went by the name of Black Recluse because of the similar traits they shared with the spider. They would only strike to kill and disappear without anyone noticing. They were made up of men who did not exist as far as society was concerned. These were men that would sacrifice themselves to complete their mission without batting an eye. Many years ago, House Dor created a facility to rehabilitate orphans of war. Most were children of their enemies or children who would die if left to their own devices. It had seemed like a noble venture at the time.

It wasn't until later that they realize the children were too deficient mentally to function in society. War tends to do that to children, the psychological effects of watching your entire family slaughtered was too much for most. After a series of events and failed assassination attempts on major figures in House Dor, Marcus proposed the creation of their own secret corps using these children who were otherwise unfit for normal human interactions. Marcus was just 20 years old at the time of this undertaking. He was a renowned Knight in Igbal despite his age and he had a talent for war.

His idea was met with a lot of resistance initially but after seeing the results of the first batch, it was difficult to argue against. Using various tactics and mental conditioning, Marcus created a deadly group that would only respond to his will. The Black Recluse was only known among the elders of House Dor, it was their secret weapon against all who would raise swords against them.

Marcus sat in his chair in the middle of the night double checking all the orders he wanted to be carried out. In less than a month they would reach Skystead Academy, as far as Khal knew but their real destination was elsewhere. Khal's progress had reassured him that the next step in his growth would shock the world. All he needed to do was harden his heart and allow the boy's true nature to blossom. He flipped through the last page of his document and readied himself. Usually, every child of House Dor would attend Skystead Academy to hone their martial and social skills. Marcus, in fact, had also attended the school but he found it lacked real-life applications of war. While sparring and learning about various techniques were a great foundation, the academy couldn't teach you how to fight with your life on the line. It was because of that that Marcus lost all his friends at the Northern Wall. He hesitated a little more before finally resolving himself to placing his stamp on the document.

No more than a second later, the Dor flag outside his tend began to flap in the breeze before the light dimmed just a little. A man clothed in black with a red spider engraved on his back entered the tent. The red legs of the spider continued all the way to the sleeves and leggings of the man's clothes. Each of the man's steps was muffled by the special shoes he wore. The closer the man walked towards Marcus's desk, the light on the table revealed more of his features. The only part of his face that was visible was his eyes. To be specific, his only eye. His left eye was covered with a metal eye patch and the area surrounding it was filled with scars. The man had an eerie air about him, but Marcus didn't seem to care.

The man quietly approached Marcus then stretched out both hands. Marcus grabbed the scroll and placed it directly into the man's hands before saying, "Although he's my grandson I expect no special treatment." Bowing slowly the man responded, "Quel T'luze!" The man's deep, hoarse voice resounded in the room. It was like a beetle scraping against a tree, enough to make one's skin crawl.

---

Khal felt privileged. Earlier in the afternoon, he had sparred with Captain Alec to practice his cladding. 8 out of 10 times he was able to keep his concentration enough to fight with his skilled cousin. It was exhausting and taxing on his spirit energy, but he persevered. How many Knights could boast of practicing with a Knight Captain, the peak of the second tier? It was already midnight now, and Khal had already meditated to refill his spirit energy. A smile was visible on Khal's face as he rested his head on the pillow.

Suddenly, he heard a light step outside his tent. Usually only those patrolling the night were allowed to roam free after hours. The two guards stationed outside his tent were not included. From Khal's observation, the soldiers of his grandfather were too strict to break martial law. He did some quick deduction in his head and determined that it must be an assassin or something. Khal slowly and quietly reached for his sword.

His grandfather's tent was close by, Khal couldn't be certain whether the intruder was aiming for him or Marcus. He began to devise a plan in his head. If he was able to capture the intruder, then his grandfather would forget his earlier mistake with the bandits. Khal slowly walked towards the entrance to his tent. He could hear shuffling outside his tent. Shit, they must have taken out the guards. Khal circulated his spirit energy as he began cladding his sword. It didn't take long before a man, clothed in black entered his room. Noticing nobody laying in the bed the man became alert. It was too late though, a blade was already pointed at his waist long before he could react.

"Who are you and what do you want from me?" Khal barked at the man. "Impressive young master," the man responded emotionless. "Answer my question, I won't repeat myself." Khal drove the sword in just enough to cause a superficial wound on the man's side. "Hmmm, this one is called Claw, I wouldn't dare to want anything from the young master." Khal was surprised by how calm the man acted. Why is he calling me young master? "Who do you work for?" Khal was met with silence.

Claw's voice had already been scary. The fact that he was bleeding and didn't even flinch, caused Khal's sword arm to waver slightly. Who was this guy? Why is he so calm when his life is in danger? Khal began to feel strange, how was this man able to infiltrate so easily without anyone noticing? Surely, he couldn't be the only one to have noticed. Khal began to think deeply about all the possibilities. Noticing Khal's strange behavior, Claw cladded his waist then twisted his body, causing the piece of the sword that was in his skin to break. Khal felt a pain in his stomach as he was kicked to the floor.

Before he could even recover, Claw was already over his body. Khal could finally see that the man's scariest feature wasn't his voice. He had one eye that glowed blue in the dark and the scars all over his face were numerous, some older than others. The last think Khal saw was a fist coming closer to his face before he lost consciousness.

---

"Claw you must be getting old! Hahaha!" Marcus laughed at his friend. "It's the first time in years someone has gotten the drop on you." Claw remained quiet as he carried the unconscious Khal towards another part of the camp. His anger at his own mistake had left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew he was getting old, but this was still a child.

Alec's face hardened at the turn of events. The more Khal impressed Marcus, the more the man was willing to send him to that hell. "Khal has only been with us for so long. Are you sure this is the right decision milord? Maybe he should train more before he goes off to the Hive." Alec pleaded. "I've already made my decision Alec," Marcus said seriously. "If he's really a Vulcan then there is no better place for him. Besides, even if I keep him in Elheim to train, he won't be safe there for too long. Not with what's to come."

"But shouldn't you have told him? Instead of this entire ruse, you concocted with Lord Claw? Have you forgotten what happened with Lord Coin? The Recluse may still be compromised." Alec felt pity for Khal, he was so young and sheltered but his own grandfather was sending him to suffer. "Alec! I will not repeat myself! The Hive will shape him, develop his skill set to survive in the coming years. House Dor may fall, but with him, it will rise again."

"Are you willing to bet on your only grandson's life?" Alec couldn't understand why the General was being so cryptic. He knew Nicole would never approve of the Hive. "Is the Raven Council involved in this milord?" Marcus expression only changed slightly before he quickly adjusted it. "The less you know the better Alec. We've already spoken too much in the open. Gather the men in the morning. Report Khal missing. The old general then walked away slowly. Alec could see his lonely shoulders walking away in the distance. How many burdens was he carrying? Alec didn't know but he could tell the weight was heavy.

---

It was already midday by the time Khal woke up. The sun rays were directly in his eyes when he realized he was in a carriage headed in the wrong direction. It was an old carriage and Khal could tell that it was usually used to transport vegetables and fruits mostly. The smell of rotten apples and carrots next to him were an obvious sign since his father often transported goods to the market. The carriage ride wasn't smooth, he wasn't sure if the wheels of the carriage needed servicing or the road was bad. Either way, it made for a terrible ride, wherever he was headed.

Khal noticed right away that his hands and feet were tied. He was also blindfolded but whoever did it made a poor job of it. Khal could see his feet from below the blindfold. All he needed to do was lay flat on his back and adjusted himself to see the entire carriage. The carriage had only one exit at the far end which was covered by a thick leather covering. He realized he was all alone. Where is this? Was I captured by the enemy? Shit, I was too careless.

Khal tried his best not to panic. He didn't know where he was or who had taken him. The carriage driver must be that Claw guy. Wait, we must still be in Seabo. There is no way we could have made it to Talawa so quickly. Are we in Igbal or Braxton? Shit, think Khal, think! He slowly crawled his way towards the exit. Khal skillfully poked his head outside to get a better view of his surroundings. He squinted his eyes as they slowly adjusted to the bright morning sun. The first thing he noticed was the rocky terrain. There were on a road made of limestone and water rocks. Well, the mystery of my bumpy ride is solved.

The next thing Khal noticed was the horses around his carriage. There were at least 100 men in black on the horses headed in the same direction as him. He noticed they didn't take any banners with them. The only noticeable feature they had was a red spider on the back. Khal quickly pulled his head inside. Shit, hopefully, they didn't see me. After 15 minutes, with no one stopping to check on him, Khal sighed in relief. He didn't bother to look outside anymore for fear of what might happen.

Everyone was quiet as they made their way through the rocky terrain. Occasionally, Khal would hear sounds of something dropping in the carriage. He wasn't sure if someone had entered but the carriage was still in motion, so it was unlikely. He pretended to be unconscious while he peeped through the little opening in his blindfold. There were bread and a flask of water on the other side of him. It wasn't until then that he realized how hungry and thirsty he was.

Spending time with his father on Lord Tommel's manor helped Khal learn a few tricks. Firstly, he was accustomed to tying the animals and knew exactly how to remove his binds. He just wasn't sure whether he would be able to put them back on in time if the carriage ever stopped. After a few hours of debating though, Khal finally decided to take the chance.

It only took him 5 minutes before he figured out exactly how the knot was made and how to easily get out of it. His plan was to make it easier for his grandfather to find him. There was no way he could fight off some many men on his own anyway. He began to tear up pieces of his shirt before throwing them out of the carriage periodically. Hopefully, he would reach his destination before he ran out of clothes. His grandfather must be searching for him already.