Two days had passed since Khal regained consciousness. That was the only information he could gather. The men in black never spoke to him, only throwing bread or water-skins ever so often so that he could eat. Khal's only had the last piece of his shirt to throw outside before he would move on to his pants. He waited until it was dark outside before he threw the last piece like he always did. Just as he was about to this time around, he heard a voice. "I would refrain from disrobing before we get to our destination." The course voice resonated nearby. Khal quickly tied himself again before he moved away from the exit. Just as he did that, Khal saw a figure just outside the carriage. He didn't even know when the person had gotten behind the carriage. Khal didn't even hear a sound from the man's horse.

It was him! Khal panicked when he noticed the pieces of his clothes already in the man's hand. Two days' worth of effort wasted. The man moved further into the carriage before dropping the pieces of cloth at Khal's feet. "Why are you doing this!" Khal screamed at the man. "It will do you well to remain calm young man," the man entered the carriage just a few inches away from Khal. His voice was as unsettling as before. Khal felt the hair on his skin respond to every word the man said. "My name is Claw, leader of the Black Recluse."

"I don't care what your name is or who u lead. Where am I?!" Khal barked at the man. He wasn't sure why he responded that way, but it was already too late to take it back. Although he felt uncomfortable and a little scared, there was something about this man that seemed as though he wasn't interested in killing him. Claw stared at Khal intensely before he responded slowly. "At the Black Recluse, nobility matters not. We are the children of the damned, we only heed the call of one master." Khal didn't know what to make of the man's words. "Have you gone mad? I asked you, where am I?" Khal was annoyed at the man's gibberish. He didn't care that he was tied up or outnumbered, the only way for his grandfather to find him was already foiled and he was too pissed to care about reason.

Claw stared at Khal some more with his only eye, ignoring Khal's outburst. "We are at the Hive. I'm here at your grandfather's request to deliver a message: 'Only strength matters in this world. Become strong enough to control your own destiny. I await you in Igbal, prove to me that you are worthy of your name.' Your grandfather has ordered me to present to you your final test, survive the Hive."

Khal stared at the man, hesitating on whether to trust him or not. He thought back to the strange way in which he was kidnapped. He was sure he made enough noise during his short fight with the man to alert the entire camp. Maybe this is really another part of grandfather's training? "Why should I trust you?" Khal asked. Claw reached into his clothes and pulled out a scroll before throwing it towards Khal. Catching the document, Khal quickly perused it. It was a written order to the Black Recluse to accept and train Khal, even killing him was accepted if he didn't follow instructions.

Khal was surprised. If this was the plan all along why would his grandfather tell him that he was headed to the Academy? Was it all a plot to kidnap him and see how he would respond? Khal felt confused by the entire story. Although he had known his grandfather for a few years, the man was too complex to read. He quickly gave Claw the scroll before asking, "How long before we reach this...'Hive' Ser Claw?"

Claw chuckled for the first time. To Khal, it sounded like a crackle more than anything else. "I'm no Ser young master, the Black Recluse don't hold such esteemed men in our ranks. In fact, when you exit this carriage you will no longer be Khal of House Dor." Claw's voice faded in the carriage as the man disappeared right in front of Khal's face. I will no longer be Khal Dor? Khal didn't even notice as he pondered on the man's statement.

That night, Khal slept a little more comfortable knowing that his life was not in danger. He had freed himself from the ropes as soon as Claw had left the carriage, making it far easier to sleep through the bumpy ride. It wasn't until morning that he felt the carriage finally stop. He could hear running water close by. He was sure he heard waves crashing against a shoreline but without checking he couldn't be sure. The only waves he'd ever heard was the ones of Tiger River just south of Sydenham Town. He stood at the entrance of the carriage and looked around. The first thing he saw was a small castle in the middle of a forest. He still couldn't figure out where he was exactly, but the castle seemed worn down and abandoned. Vines were overgrown, blocking the majority of the pathway towards the castle. Khal was sure that no one would ever think that the castle was inhibited.

Men in masks littered the surroundings with bows or other long-range weapons. The entire area was completely secured, and Khal couldn't see a way to escape and neither did he bother to try. There were countless other carriages around, but it was unclear whether more people were there to train. Khal watched as the masked men began ordering people outside the carriages. Khal wasn't sure who they were but as they exited he noted the blindfolds around their heads.

Removing the blindfolds, the people looked around curiously at their new surroundings. Khal noticed that the youngest was at least fifteen years old while the oldest couldn't have been more than thirty. He couldn't help but feel that they were a bit too old to be his peers. When they exited the carriage, Khal realized that most were restrained as he was. Khal realized that the masked men seemed more like they were trying to prevent them from running more than trying to protect them from whatever was in the forest. I don't even see the training camp. Khal was becoming suspicious; this place was too unorthodox.

The men wearing black masks jumped into some of the carriages to drag a few of the captives out. Khal watched a man trying in vain to fight off his captors while screaming, only to be knocked unconscious. Another man managed to break away from his restraints before stumbling through the forest only to be dragged back to the castle minutes later. Khal suspected that he was either drugged or dead.

Khal watched on, puzzled by what was taking place. He had too many questioned he needed answers to. He knew he needed to find Claw. Maybe the training ground is behind the castle? Khal was just about to exit his carriage when a masked man approached him. "Hold it right there!" Khal looked at the man strangely before answering, "Oh, is there something you need from me?"

SLAP!

Khal took a few steps back before holding his face. "Still your tongue spiderling! Worms who haven't proven their strength have no voice!" The man then restrained Khal's hand before shoving him towards the line of other kids. Khal face paled as it happened. He was too shocked to even fight back. What is happening here? Spiderling? What is going on here?!

---

Viscount Milon sat at his usual spot in the family meeting. He placed his hand on his cheeks to support his weight as he listened to his family argue. He could feel a headache coming on slowly. They were at it for days now. Initially, he had been angry along with them but there was only so long he could continue to be angry at the new Baron, Edard Tommel. He could only blame himself for not assessing the situation before he sent his son along with half his men to confront the Burgans four years ago. Only 300 of his 1000 men had made it back in one piece.

What made matters worse was that the Court Marshall had assessed that House Milon only played a minor role in the grand scheme of things. He didn't see the Count promotion he had envisioned. Instead, he was given a thank you letter signed by the King. It would have been fine given the fact that the Marshall held the Court's influence in the palm of his hands but the fact that this Tommel gained such a boon from the entire situation didn't sit too well with him.

The Burgan prisoner he had his son interrogate so long ago was long dead. How it happened was a mystery in its own right but that was just the beginning of it all. He didn't know how, but he was certain that Baron Tommel had a hand in all of it. It was the only thing that made sense. The Burgans were never known for their knowledge after all. It wouldn't be too difficult to manipulate them. Just thinking of the possibility finally ignited the anger that he thought was already quenched.

Milon calmed himself down. There was no way he could prove any of it. Most of the Burgans were now dead and what remained of them were scattered across Seabo, too scared to ever become a threat again. Milon looked across at his son, he had been quiet at every family meeting since that day. Milon was told that General Dor had saved his son at the last minute, preventing the Great House from falling into further ruin.

Milon hated it all. His generation was the one that caused the decline. No matter how haughty he seemed on the outside, he knew how little his power really was. It was so little in fact that the spies he had all over Seabo had defected towards stronger houses. There was little he could do to stop them, everyone knew House Milon was the weakest of them all.

"Austin, how do we proceed from here?" Milon snapped out of his daydream as he looked towards his cousin. He had no idea what the conversation was about so he watched the man blankly. Sighing, his cousin repeated, "What do you think we should do about their invitation?" Milon looked towards the pitch-black card in front of him. It wasn't addressed to him per se but House Milon instead.

"Before we can wildly accept their offer we need to find out who they are. Have you checked with your connections at Rhodes Castle?" Milon asked. "Austin what difference will it make? We've barely managed to increase the soldiers in our army after you foolishly lost half of it. Your foolish decisions have disappointed us for the last time. This is a good deal! A further five hundred men and a mountain of gold, what is there to be skeptic about?"

Milon paused and clenched his fist. He was too exhausted to put the man in his place. "There is such a thing as too good to be true. I've never heard of this Raven Council. What if the power behind them is too much for us to contend with?" Milon's cousin looked at him as though he was watching a fool, "We may have declined but House Milon had never been weak! Have you lost your courage along with the men you sent to die Austin? Maybe you're really no longer fit to lead us."

Milon stood up briskly before grabbing his cousin by the throat, "You will do well not to anger me, Luther! I've indulged you enough! Speak another word and I'll dig your heart out and feed it to pigs." Luther looked at Austin as though he had seen a ghost. His entire body became meek as his trousers slowly became soiled with urine. After seeing his cousin nod in acknowledgment, Austin released the man before watching his scurry away to his quarters.

Although he had shown strength in front of his cousin, Austin was unsure how he should proceed. He looked towards the rest of his family. Most were alarmed and a few showed no reactions. Nicholas, his son, stared at him as though he was expecting an order. Austin hesitated just a little before he ordered his son, "Nicholas, gather the guards. We will be headed to Emory Inn, it's time to meet the Raven Council."