The four men stepped wearily as their boots crunched fallen leaves in the cover of the dark as they trudged through the dead forest. The shivering air ran straight through the men, chilling them to the bone. Blade boasted the largest radius of warmth, hauling the body of Baradorn—but every half a mile he complained of the ache it put on his body. No one else would be capable of hauling such a man. Eventually, Blade gave in.

"I'm done. I can't carry him no longer." The body was flung to the ground like a big sack.

"Well just dump him down like he's a rotted food, would ya?" Egalo shook his head.

Randor had paused a couple feet ahead of them and turned back to see what the commotion was about.

"Only a few more miles, we are close now. Raideth is just on the other side of that pass up there through those trees."

Blade spoke now, "You know what Sir Redcloak, why don't you put your special powers to use and just levitate the sick man along as we go, eh? All I've seen you do is pout and split some rocks when you become angry. I'm tired of just following you blindly whilst a bear the weight of two hundred pounds on my back."

Randor set his jaw firm and the leaves along the ground began to swirl all around him. The night had turned his cloak to just another dark silhouette in a swirling cloak, but his eyes glowed a dim yellow. Randor extended his right arm outwards and a blue gem glowed inside his palm, and with it the ground around them vibrated gently. A low humming begun to grow louder. Blade began to panic. Egalo had his hands over his ears and fell to his knees but his cries were drowned out by the pulsating hum that filled the night air. Blade fell backward over a log, and in succession a nearby tree was uprooted, falling over Blade's waist like a lap bar.

The dread that had set in almost took the life from Baradorn. His weak body could barely handle it. Then it stopped. Egalo's mouth gaped open as he looked up at Randor, who returned a sullen look. It occurred to him that he did not truly know what a Magi Knight was capable of. He had only heard stories that were never fully credible—never fully proven unless he saw it for himself.

Baradorn and Blade both lay there, moaning. As if that moment had not been enough for the three men to soak in, the sound of men approaching was heard. The sounds of feet trudging through the dried leaves came from their right. Panic set in, and Randor began to usher them to follow. Blade looked up and squeaked, "I can't move, this tree has me down!" His head was also gushing blood from where he had banged it on a tree stump. Baradorn moaned something that couldn't be understood.

Blade called for help again, "Quick, get this tree off of me!"

"Egalo, leave him. He is hurt now and him and Baradorn both will only hold us back. Leave him." Egalo had already rushed over to try to remove the tree. It was no use though and the sounds of hushed voices were growing closer.

Egalo turned to rush towards Randor, accepting that he could not bring Blade with him, and then the arrows started flying. Three arrows thudded by Egalo's head and landed into the trunk of a tree by his head. Egalo tucked into a roll onto the ground, he searched the scene around him but Randor had vanished.

Egalo's eyes scanned the dark air in hopes of locating where the arrows had hailed from. He saw a shape quickly move from tree to tree about twenty yards away. A group of five men arrived from over a crest line in the woods. The men leading the group called out, "Who lurks here in these woods? By order of the lord King Steed, I demand you to drop your weapons and surrender yourselves. I would rather save my quiver of arrows for the wild boars that roam these woods, but it's your choice." The leader of the group held a smaller blade by his waist.

The men cautiously began spreading out throughout the woods, ears pricked. Another man in the group whispered, "Don't be shy little fellas...we won't hurt you—we just want to introduce ourselves."

Another man that was stepping dangerously close to where Egalo was hunched over spoke with a voice that rose deep from within his belly, "We know you're here, come out slowly and I might spare you..." He let laugh. It was only a matter of time before they came upon Baradorn and Blade.

Where was Randor? Egalo scanned the forest vigilantly but saw nothing.

His first fear came true when the man who had called out initially spoke again, "Ooh, our lord Rainblood will be very pleased when he sees that we have a body to get the fire going tonight. Nothing quite scares away the natives of Raideth like the smell of burning flesh."

His laugh made Egalo very uneasy again. Another man amongst the group who was searching an area further away released a forced laugh in an attempt to please the leader of the group. His laugh was quickly cut off when he tripped, and a sharp grunt filled the air as he went down. The thickly bearded man with a rich voice had turned now from his creeping near Egalo's spot, all smile gone from his face.

He began to move towards where his friend had fallen but before he could speak a dagger went hissing through the air. The tip of the dagger embedded itself into the center of his forehead, and suddenly the group of men were down two. The hiss of steel leaving scabbard rang through the forest. The archer who had almost hit Egalo earlier was now visible, standing on the other side of the tree he had used to conceal himself, arrow knocked and ready to unleash.

The leader of the group jerked Baradorn to his feet with his gruff hands and held a blade tight to his neck. "Unveil yourself or else this man's neck gets slit right now. I SAID RIGHT NOW!" Egalo wondered whether he should unveil himself or if Randor had something planned. The leader of the group was a very thin, scraggly man. He had the sort of eyes that screamed theievery without him having to say a word. A scar ran up the arm that held the blade to Baradorn's neck.

Egalo was about to unveil himself but he froze. The decision was ultimately made before he could change his mind when somehow men came up from behind his attacker and prodded him forward with the tip of their clunky crossbows. Men came from all directions now, swarming the four perpetrators. Egalo looked to his left to see that Randor was now held captive too. His hands were being bound behind him. The dark, dreaded blade of sands buried somewhere behind that tattered red cloak. He wondered why he didn't just unveil the blade and whatever that odd blue stone was and bring upon a storm of dirt and soil. Now is the time to use that, do something useful with it!

There was a group of about twenty men now that had them surrounded. Somehow, they had not seen Blade yet who was still concealed and shoved down under the thick trunk of the tree. The leader of the group pushed the clumsy body of Baradorn into the arms of a brute man with greasy blonde hair. He grunted and puckered his lips out as he attempted to hold up Baradorn, his pale face was littered with beads of sweat.

The leader of the group allowed a freakish grin over his face as he surveyed the scene. "Well, we have new friends. My name is Thane Thindsman, son of Aryd Thindsman. You are in the territory of Torval Rainblood. I do not come to kill you. I promise you will be unharmed, as long as you follow my rules."

Egalo did not like the way he had said those last words. Take a wrong step and he would likely send a knife through him. Who was Torval Rainblood? The name had sounded vaguely familiar, but he figured he was about to find out. Randor and Egalo were bound at the wrist and on they marched as captives. They exited the thick forests a few moments later. Egalo feared they would simply slay the half-dead-already Baradorn, but rather he was left for dead. Blade was behind as well, still somehow concealed behind the trunk of the massive tree Randor had slammed upon him. Off they went, back towards the dreaded sands of the Carnakane desert.

When they arrived at the camp and the twenty men had now seemed like few to none compared to the size of their base camp. Amongst the fires of the night were hundreds and hundreds of tents. Men sat around small fires; their chatting stopped when they looked up to see the two captives dragged in. Egalo peered at the men who sat. He did not spy a single woman. He noticed many of the men were quite brute looking. Their hair was unkept and their beards were large. One man was biting on the leg of what looked to have possibly been a horse. The blood ran down his beard as his eyes followed Egalo the whole way by. After walking through the mile-long camp, they arrived at a massive tent around the center of the camp. Guards who stood sentry at the entrance made way for Thane and his men, and in they went.

Inside the tent was a man of average stature, with light brown eyes and gray, speckled hair. His hair was done over neatly, and his facial hair was neatly trimmed in contrast to his men. Two men sat either side of him at a table, looking over what appeared to be maps or parchment of some sort.

"Commander, we found these two men and one other in the forests right along the border of the Carnakanes entering into Raideth. We witnessed the one in the red cloak perform what appeared to be sorcery, and the boy is likely involved with whatever scheme it is they had intended to do. They had another with them, but he was on his way to death, so we left him to the crows. The sorcerer may be of value to you in some way. I believe he might possess one of the stones of Ertorin."

"Show me." Torval's voice was raspy and cold.

Thane's men kicked Randor down to the ground, his hands were still bound tightly. The men stared expectantly at Randor, one with the tip of his longsword at the back of his neck. Randor's hands were freed, and the twine was cut. The magi knight went to the inside of his cloak and produced a simple rock, no bigger than his fist.

Thane took it, a troubling look upon his face. "It's not glowing?"

"If you had more than a pebble of a brain you would not expect to see it glow, Thane. This is a Magi's stone, not for common men."

"You must see what I have seen, commander. I saw a bright blue shining light that illuminated the entire forest. A light that was like no other I've seen. It was as bright as they say in the tales."

Torval spoke now, "Show to me that this stone is of value, sorcerer, and I shall pity you with mercy. If not, you will be a slave to me, and I shall use you as I see fit. My men grow hungry for bloodshed."

"What is your name, by the way? Both of you." Torval pointed a jagged knife he had been using to cut up an apple towards the two captives. He bit into the apple chunk he had just sliced, the juices foaming and running down his chin.

"Randor Redcloak, nomad of the north. I am servant to no one, my own man."

"Inspiring Sir Redcloak, truly. And you boy?"

"Egalo."

"Well that's it? You have no parents, no homeland?" Torval chuckled and jammed the point of the knife down into table, juices squirting over the parchments and maps.

"Thane show Egalo the respect he deserves."

Thane moved his face inches from Egalo's face, Egalo stood shameless, his eyes meeting Thane's. He was sick of being servant to men he cared nothing for. Thane spit in Egalo's face. Egalo took it, unflinching. A fist with brass knuckles went into Egalo's stomach and he faltered finally, grunting hard as he fell to the floor. Blood squirted from his belly where the brass punctured, cutting deep.

Torval then unsheathed his blindingly stunning sword. It looked unused, almost too perfect. The shiny metal glared his reflection as Randor's eyes widened at the sight of its unsheathing. Torval paced side to side, Randor standing before him, unbound now.

"Now I know what you're thinking, wise one. You are thinking that I have no idea who you are, and that I have no idea what I just got myself into by hurting your little apprentice should I say. But here's the deal. I know exactly who you are. You are a Magi Knight, and that makes this catch a lot more valuable now, ay Thane? Well done, Thane. You may help yourself to one of my fair maidens in Halquord's tent as the day's end." Thane nodded his skinny head, his smile revealing a set of crooked, missing teeth.

"Well, Randor. It turns out, I know who you are far too well. It would be unfair not for me not to treat you accordingly. I hope you still playing with rocks."

Torval's sword was blinding Randor, it's shine was glowing brighter. Torval grabbed a stone from its place inside a loin cloth placed it in a small divot in the hilt. He yelled something in magi and slammed the blade point into the orange sand underfoot.

Sharp rocks and gravel flung from the sands, cutting Randor's face in dozens of places. Rocks began clinging to him all over his body and like a nest of angry bees. He muttered curses and began to yell curses from the top of his lungs. Egalo could barely watch from his suffering position on the ground. He fell to his knees, Torval's sword remained embedded into the ground, all his focus on the stone in the middle of the hilt. Egalo rolled slowly, stealthily to his right, away from the guards whose sole focus was on the whole debacle in front of them with Randor. Thane was grinning excitedly. Egalo tried to rise to his feet but he couldn't. He found the stone that Randor thrown down and Egalo clutched it with his hand and launched it as hard as he could towards Torval's head. The stone bounced off his temple and simultaneously Torval lost his mental grip on the sword and almost lost his footing. His hand went right to his temple where a small gash had formed.

The tent became a frenzy of blood and swords. Randor was still suffocating. Thane brought his mace down on Egalo's spine and the crushing blow sent him into agony like he'd never known before. He rolled along the dirt of the ground, swallowing a mixture of blood and dust. That was the last he remembered from his first encounter with Torval Rainblood.

The next day arrived and Egalo had been taken to a separate tent from Randor. Randor was kept in the neighboring tent to Torval with high supervision. At least ten guards stood watch over him at all times. They had finally found Randor's black blade of dread, laying by the other collection of Randor's special Magi items. Men came and went to and from the table, eyeing the Magi's items with a look of awe and wonder. It was no everyday occurance to have a Magi knight in captivity.

Around midday, Randor had been brought to the main tent with Torval Rainblood. Torval did not speak a word to him, and likewise Randor had nothing to say to him. He imagined what it must have felt for Egalo to be prisoner to Dalian Dagnar for such a time. He likened himself to Thane, before thinking it folly to make such a comparison. I was fair to the boy...for the most part.

Soon after Randor had been brought in, another man of Torval's burst into the door. His hair was a mangled mess of dirty blonde hair down to his shoulders and eyes that flickered a stormy gray.

"Lord Commander, I hear troubling news of an escapee from one of our legions who has not made it to our base camp."

"News of what? The Carnakanes are a desert wasteland, who could possibly have held them up?"

"There is one man who made it out alive that reports of an army of men with decaying faces and rotting limbs. He claims their legion were ravaged badly. The attackers feasted on the dying, only letting them see the other side of eternity after the watched their own body become a living feast for those undead bastards. He has only just now been calmed, commander. I wouldn't like to meet whatever group his men seem to have encountered. He couldn't explain their appearance without vomiting bile, lord."

Torval didn't seem too bothered by the news, although the messenger seemed in some distress. Randor had appeared unbothered as well, appearing to be asleep.

"Where is the man who lived?"

"He is with the healer Gaeland. He fell into a deep sleep and they have not managed to wake him yet, lord."

Torval rose from his seat overlooking the maps.

"Stay here with the Magi Knight. Do not fall for any of his little tricks. Here me, Regdal?"

"Yes, my lord." The man Regdal took a tentative seat across the table, away from the corner of the tent where Randor sat motionless with his head tilted down and his eyes closed.

Torval stepped out of the tent shouting orders to various men, the large camp of over a thousand men gathered around the elevated wooden platform which Torval now stood upon.

"It is my understanding that the last legion we are waiting on to arrive has been swept and destroyed in a battle with an enemy unknown to me. The army is reportedly here in the Carnakanes." A wave of sighs and heaves of exasperation reverberated around those gathered.

"However, it is my intention to carry on with the mission, and to reach the sanctuary of life that we believe lies within the confines of the land of Mestrane beyond the meadows. We are close now, and we will cut down whatever lies in our path."

Men uttered agreement and grunts of approval. Randor could hear the noises and shouts from his position inside the tent. He lifted his head and saw two big men, both certainly well over six feet tall, towering over him with clubs in hand and not a hint of friendliness in their faces.

Outside, Torval continued his rallying speech to his men, going on for well over ten minutes. Randor considered Torval's position. His men have just lost a chunk of their army amidst a skirmish with the undead. And yet his men are praising him. Some man, he is.

Randor closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. The stone was calling to him. It was no longer in his grasp, but he could feel it. It belonged to him. Its glow was shining through the leather-bound sack that covered it. The room began to grow very cold. The two men peered at each other and one of them shied nervously, his breath coming raggedly.

"What is he doing?" Randor heard one of the men whisper to the other.

"I don't know, should we club him?"

"No, Torval would be furious if he found out we couldn't handle for twenty minutes."

"It feels oddly cool in here; this doesn't feel right."

No sooner had the words been spoken, the glow of the stone radiated through the leather bag, illuminating the tent in a bright blue light that was so intense that the two men were blinded. They began to writhe around off balance, clutching their eyes in pain. Randor took his chance, swiping his legs into the two men, knocking them to the ground.

The two clumsily fell over each other, their clubs flung to the ground. Randor slammed the twine of his bound hands against one of the spikes on the club that had fallen close to him. His hands were free. He landed a kick with the heel of his boot to the temple of the closest man to him and saw his eyes roll back into his head. The other guard was not so simply put off. Randor and the man both saw the glint of the black steel of the Magi Knight's blade, sitting on the wooden table at the far end of the room. The steel of dread, she's mine.

Randor knew he had to get there first. The man on the ground scrambled to his feet, with Randor close behind. They both leapt for the blade. Randor landed on the back of his legs. His large legs kicked back aggressively catching Randor in the nose, blood squirted profusely as Randor reeled back. The man clutched the hilt of the shorter, black blade in his hand. He peered ponderously at the black blade, unaware of the power it possessed. The blade was slightly wavy, its tip was like venom, blacker than the night.

Randor made for the stone itself now. Blood dripped heavily from his nose, staining the cloth that covered the stone. Randor had just gotten one hand on the stone but lost his grip when the barbaric guard came at him with a sweeping cut of his sword. He narrowly missed Randor's face by inches. The stone rolled across the dirt floor towards the flaps of the tent at the other end.

"A Magi Knight without his blade is nothing to me," spat the man. His black tangled hair was a tussled mess across his forehead.

"The blade without its owner is simply cold steel, nothing more."

The two danced around the edges of the wooden table. The stone was just a bit too far to risk making a break for it—the possibility of being cut down was too great. An escape out of the tent at this point would just draw attention to the situation and he would be captured in an instant. The crowd outside the tent continued shouting chants that were deafening. If Randor had screamed at the top of his lungs he was sure it would not be heard.

"I will kill you, knight." Torval's orders were clear. Keep him captive or kill him if he attempts to escape.

"Just saying it doesn't make it so." The two danced.

Randor picked up an ink holder that was on the table and hurled the ink towards the man's face. He dodged it, but a second later Randor had made his advance quick as lightening, agile on his feet. He landed an elbow blow to his stomach and launched a fist into the center of his face. The sweet contact plundered the man backwards, but he still maintained his grip on the blade. His reactions were quick, swiping the blade wildly left, and then right. Randor evaded both and then attempted a kick around the side of his leg, which he jumped over deftly. He wasted no time and came down with a harsh stroke over the top of Randor. Randor flung himself over the table and rolled across the dirt ground. He was on the side of the tent with the opening flaps now. He rolled quickly across the ground to the stone and felt its power radiate through his arm.

Sand rippled across the ground and rose up, slapping the man across the face in a wave of sharp rock and gravel. The ground underneath him rippled like a wave and his feet went out from under him. The blade clattered to the ground and Randor's hand found the hilt comfortably. Randor raised up the blade and held the curved blade tight against the neck of the man who now laid flat on his back.

"I'd prefer not to kill you, but I've been hungry for blood lately." With that, Randor stuck the blade through his belly, spilling out much of what had previously been inside the man's stomach. Randor reeled away panting, and grabbed a cloth that lay on the table, cleansing his blade of the man's blood.

It had been hours as Randor sat inside the tent with his blade drawn and sweat dripping down his face. He waited and waited, for the moment that the leader of these men entered those flaps. His throat was to be severed and his head gone. The Magi Knight made good use of his reunion with the Black Dread. He killed six men. Men would come and check in or seek out their commander, only to find Randor waiting around the corner to slide his blade across their throat and add their body to the pile that had been to add up. At some point, Randor decided he could wait no longer. He decided to move.

His own face was covered with dried blood and his nose was throbbing. Randor returned the glowing blue stone to its home inside the hilt of the Black Dread. The dark wonder slipped smoothly down into the scabbard by Randor's hip and his red cloak did well to hide its place at his hip. Randor wasted no time slipping into the garments of one of the men he had killed. Out of the tent, quietly and sneakily he went. His plated armor fit snug, the bronze armor shining handsomely in the desert sun. His thumb found the hilt of his sword and rested over the polished stone. The sands stirred lightly before his feet, leading him toward the tent in which he knew Egalo would be found. The sands stirred lightly, almost unnoticeably to the normal eye right in front of a tent on the outskirts of the camp. He gave quick nods to the men he passed, who gave no sign of suspicion as he passed.

The hair on Randor's neck stood up straight on the back of his neck when he heard a familiar voice.

"Yes, lord Commander. We would be honored to march you into the land of Mestrane. The throne seat awaits you, the master has sent for you, as he wishes to see you take your rightful place at his right hand."

"I am pleased by your offering lord Dagnar, and we accept your invitation. You should know, however, any foolish business on your end and I will not hesitate to take your lands by force if I must. I do not set aside my own skepticism on account of your dainty promises, lord Dagnar."

"Of course not, lord Commander. The great King Steed himself must choose an heir, for his time has come to give up his claim to those lands. It would his honor to knight you and to make you into a great ruler of the new empire."

Randor eyed Egalo's tent wearily across the clearing. Was he hearing this? Surely Torval Rainblood does not believe what Dagnar is saying to him. How did that imbecile Dagnar survive the attack I witnessed on his men of the mountain?

Randor turned to sneak away for the night until he had a plan of his own, but as he turned, he bumped into a couple of Raideth brutes. They locked eyes and Randor quickly put his head down and walked briskly away. He heard the mutters from under the breath,

"Was that him? No, leave him be, Torval has the man he wants already tied up and guarded."

Randor felt the hilt of his sword grow warm, and then too hot. His palm was burning. He was in trouble, he knew.