A bag covered his eyes and rope bound his hands behind him. He shivered in the cold of the night. His furs were still on the ground where he had used them to keep him warm in his sleep. Although he could not see, he could smell pine. They must have entered another wooded area, he remembered specifically there was no pine in the thicket of trees he had been in where they found him. The sound of branches and twigs snapping underfoot filled the silence. There was no wind and aside from the twigs it was oddly quiet.

Hildebran was glad for his shivering to disguise his quivering and tears. The bag hid as much but he dared not let his pride go now that he was held in bondage. The tears had not been of his capture, but of Adelina. The look on her face when she awoke in confusion with a look of scare on her face. He had yelled and begged them not to touch her but that's when they hit him in the back of the head and sent his vision blind. That's when the bag was tossed over his head and his hands were bound behind him. A hit to the gut had knocked the wind from his lungs and he struggled to take in air through his mouth and nose where the thick bag covered his face.

He heard Adelina screaming but they had ridden away before he found out her fate. He could not bear to think what this necromancer would have his men do to her, or worse, what he would do to her himself. He had not heard his voice since he had first found him.

Instead they rode, and to where they rode Hildebran had little clue. Pine forests? Could be anywhere in Weptswur. There were countless grooves of trees and small forests throughout the land. He had much time to think as they rode long, his tail bone bouncing painfully upon the stiff back end of the horse. The path was awfully bumpy, but Hildebran had naught a say in the matter.

He truly had lost it all now. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. Nightclaw would bound him to his will like he did the other Ki'vatsu and he would be a brainless servant to his lord. Going forth from place to place and capturing prizes in Nightclaw's favor. Hildebran wondered whether he would recognize the Ki'vatsu and whether they would have any remembrance of him. His thoughts wondered back to Rednork, the land of the sword. It is the religion, the way of life. The tournaments and the feasts. How jousts and jests had lightened the room and wooden swords were in hand from the day one could walk. It all came flooding back to him and the tears rolled down his cheeks. Snot dirbbled out of his nostrils, but he cared not, nothing would matter soon enough.

I have lost everything. Fereton. My people of Fereton. The safe haven of Scourden taken by traitors. Terran. Adelina. My sword. My furs. My cloak. Rednork. I should never have left all those years ago, should never have disgraced His honor and I would never have been banished.

Thoughts of his lady back in Rednork produced a new onslaught of hot tears. He had extracted her from his mind after many years, but she crept in now. Her voice as clear as ever in his mind. "I wish to spend the rest of my days with you. We can have kids and teach them the ways of the Ki'vatsu and the blade. We can be one big happy family united under Rednork's keep." That pretty smile she had, too shy to show her teeth. Yet, her smile still expanded across her face and her eyes lit up. She had always been shy, but not around him.

This is not helping. I cannot think of Rednork yet. But I will return. I will. And in that moment, Hildebran made a promise to himself, a promise that he would return to his homeland. It all played out in his head, as the tears dried up and the sniffling dried up. All that remained of his body's movements were his shivering and convulsing, but he did not care. If he died of the cold it would be mercy's way out.

Nightclaw led the way by the pine forest through the heart of Weptswur. It was a rarely travelled path for fear of the creatures inside the pine forest. Edmund Nightclaw shined his purple light of the dark lords and the creatures hid at its sight. The purple light fought with the midnight blue of the forest floor and created a pleasant ambience of winter—at least to Nightclaw it was pleasant. He smirked to himself as he thought of those mindless Ki'vatsu behind him, following along behind him so obediently. And soon he would have another, and likely this one was to be the crucial piece in the puzzle. He was the key to capturing the slayer, Nightclaw knew all too well. He had seen the two travelling in companionship together, it was the perfect scenario. The Maldur Slayer would soon be his, and it would change everything.

The sun had risen halfway above the horizon when the host of Ki'vatsu and their master arrived at their destination. They had been granted an old, abandoned castle to call their home as they worked for King Erilin of Weptswur. Crumbled walls lay in a tattered mess around the perimeter of the small castle. The castle was meek and made of black stone. There were four watch towers on either corner of the castle walls. Its structure was no more than a simple square with a drawbridge for men to go in or out of its walls. Hildebran could tell they had arrived at their destination as the horses slowed to a walk and he heard guards from the castle shouting to lower the drawbridge. The horses clacked their hooves over the wooden drawbridge and into the castle's yard. It was a small yard, and it didn't take long for the horses to stride over to their stable area to be tied to their posts.

Hildebran's facial cover was removed, and the sunlight blinded him. He tried to stretch his limbs but remembered he was bound tightly. He could at least stretch his legs a bit. He was ushered forward by one of the Ki'vatsu towards the front gate of the castle. Two men posted in the front moved aside and stood attention as Edmund Nightclaw glared at them. He stepped close to one of them men who appeared fretfully nervous, Nightclaw clearly enjoying the look of fear that was plastered across his quivering face. Onward they followed him into the musty castle. Hildebran snuck a quick look at one of the Ki'vatsu beside him. His face did seem familiar, but he had not been able place any other their faces yet.

A healthy host of men was stood congregated in the center foyer of what would have been the King's court. The throne sat empty atop the raised dais at the back of the room. It was a classic castle, everything Hildebran had imagined in his head as a child when he had pretended all of those years with his friends that he was the King of some far away land. But here it stood, empty and abandoned. The floor had cracks in it all the way up to the throne chair itself. Even the back of the chair had a large crack where the cold stone had cracked and begun prying itself apart. Weeds grew up through the cracks in the floor and the smell was so horrid that Hildebran had wished the bag were back upon his face again just to hide the stench.

How could a righteous and just king such as King Erilin grant this terrible man an entire castle in his own land? Even a run-down place such as this, the man was a bloody necromancer. How on earth could he be trusted? Hildebran felt a seething rage return within him now. He had had enough of necromancers. He thought back to Alvar, that deceitful jape of a man who had likely been the one who backstabbed him in Scourden, now that he came to think of it. It was starting to make sense. He had been driven out of everywhere he went, and with Edmund Nightclaw seemingly having his way with his dreams and thoughts there was a good chance he had something to do with his entire journey of neglect. Thoughts of Savok and his treachery in Fereton flooded his thoughts. Fereton was not his to own. Necromancers can rot in the bloody Pits of Ralvorth in the darkest corner of Mestrane. I'll have my own blade through the belly of this Nightclaw before he knows it, and no sooner will I stick the very same blade through the neck of his treacherous son.

The men who were congregated in the center of the room turned to see the men who had stepped inside. Adjusting their stance, they fixed their helms and stood alert at the sight of the Necromancer.

"Relax, gentlemen. It's not as if you were doing anything anyways. Come Erdezo, bring that prisoner with us." Nightclaw walked up the steps onto the dais and found his way to the back wall where a small latch was attached to the wall, which opened into a downward spiral stairway. Hildebran was being led by two Ki'vatsu. One was at his back and the other walked beside him as they followed the wiry necromancer down the looping stairs. He paused at the top of the stairway and took a big breath as he looked down. Nightclaw had already turned the corner of the stairs and his footsteps could be heard somewhere down below. Hildebran hated small spaces, and the walls were so narrow that his shoulders squeezed against the wall on either side as he stepped inside. He feared he would trip, as his hands were still bound behind him.

The man he assumed was called Erdezo had a forceful hand on his back forcing him down the stairs much faster than he would have felt comfortable, but he feared stopping for the fact that his hand might keep the same force and he would end up flailing his way down the stairs like a ball of yarn.

The stairs went on for a while to Hildebran, but he figured it was all down to his great dread of finding out what was in store for him down at the bottom. There was likely no escape without his sword or the use of his hands. There were two trained Ki'vatsu bent to the necromancer's will, and the necromancer himself certainly had a trick or two up his own sleeve. Hildebran played the part of a cooperative captive however, and decided he would bid his time. Be patient but act decisively in the moment.

When the four men arrived at the bottom layer of the castle, it was dark and gloomy as one might expect. Four candles lit the corners of the room and torches lined the wall, but they the darkness of the underground casts various shadows throughout. The room was not huge, but it was roughly the same as the King's court above—a perfectly square room—even in diameter on each side.

A table was sat in the middle of the room with restraints attached to it. Hildebran gave a quivering breath at the sight. He could not stand the thought of being subject to this nonsense. He had too much hatred for necromancers and their dark magic. Him and his sword, that is all he had ever needed—ever wanted. Hildebran peered at the eyes of the Ki'vatsu who firmly raised his body onto the table and secured him down to the table top. Their eyes were expressionless, their bodies were senseless, executing tasks with maximum efficiency. He wondered if they had thoughts of their own at this point, but he figured not. It had not seemed that way at least.

Hildebran noticed Nightclaw was at one end of the room, quietly mixing potions and various liquids together. There was not a sound but the clanking of potion glasses and the boots on cold tile. Hildebran turned to the man called Erdezo, "Aye, man. Look at me."

The Ki'vatsu avoided eye contact and stared blankly ahead.

"Listen, I know you can hear me. We can get out of here. Just give me your sword and get me out of this restraint. Let me help you. Are you listening?" Hildebran had tried to whisper the best he could but evidently it wasn't quiet enough.

"It won't work, but I admire your courage, Ser Hildebran of Fereton—or should I say Rednork? Forgive me if that offends you, I truly do not know. Anyways, your bribing won't work, they do not hear what others say to them. My voice is the only one they will obey. You should know that Hildebran, if you've learned anything about necromancers from your troubles within the realm recently."

"If there's anything I've learned is that I'd have your guts spilled out on this very table. You're worthless. What good is your power when you're confined to King Erilin's demands like a rotting corpse in a prison cell?"

"A fair question, Hildebran. But I think I've heard enough of you for now. Quiet up, won't you? If you are thinking otherwise, I'll have Erdezo cut your tongue out and then we'll see if you thought it worth it to speak your foolish thoughts aloud. You know nothing of me."

It took all of Hildebran's might to keep himself from speaking, but he managed it. He quite liked his tongue where it was and resolved to keep it. Hildebran laid his head back down and let his body lay flat on the table now.

It was after a couple minutes of lying there that he heard Nightclaw speaking, but he was not speaking to him nor the Ki'vatsu. He dared not steal a glance just yet, but he listened hard and heard a voice speak in return.

"M'lord, all is going as we had planned. I have the last Ki'vatsu now, the friend of the Maldur Slayer. I just need your permission, if it please you, to turn the last Ki'vatsu. He still has his own wits, but he could soon be like the others, m'lord."

A harsh voice replied, "No. Not this one. He will be the leader of the Ki'vatsu combatants. His consciousness will be important if he encounters the Maldur Slayer again."

"But, m'lord, if you'd please. He will not be so willing, I'd imagine, to bend to our will so easily without the potion—"

"—then do something to him, Nightclaw. I cannot have him become another obedient plank of wood like the others. That would not bode so well when you brush shoulders with the Weptswurians now, would it? You're a necromancer, mix some potions and figure something out, but he must have free will."

"Okay, as it please you m'lord. Have you heard word from the other necromancers in the north? The war is gathering near now."

"Do not stick your head where it does not belong, Nightclaw. Your son is handling things in Scourden. The others know their duties. We will soon have control over the entire North, and we will have Weptswur and Raideth surrounded on all sides."

"Very well m'lord. Forgive me if my curiosity hinders my humility. I bow my knee at your service once again, King Steed."

Hildebran could not believe what he was hearing. This was much bigger than he had imagined. Nightclaw and the necromancers are in it for Steed. There will be armies forming in the north and in the south. Hildebran felt his fever spiking. He had almost sweat through his clothes. They clung to his skin like a wet cloth. His head felt as if it was being banged against a wall.

He could not help himself, he had to catch a glance of this King Steed. Hildebran craned his neck to his right and beyond the shelves of potions and flasks stood Nightclaw. On the table in front of him was the face of Steed himself shining through a bright pearl and Hildebran could not believe his eyes. Even more so when the eyes of his face moved from Nightclaw and met his own. A shock was sent through his body, has he actually seen me? Can he see into this room? Hildebran allowed his head to return to its place flat on the table facing the ceiling. His heart was racing. If the King had seen him, he had not said as much.

The image of his face was burned in his head. He was a Maldurian, he was sure. His face was a pasty white with red markings down either cheek. Two oddly shaped red markings had symmetrical positions on either side of his eyes. His chin was sharp and his eyes glowed yellow on the outside and a deep blue at the center. He is a Maldurian, he is then the Maldurian King. But he can't be, Terran slayed the King that took his place when he went into dormancy, effectively making Terran himself the next Maldur King. It all clicked in Hildebran's head. King Steed has no claim in Mestrane. His following is deceived. He lost his place on the throne when the curse overcame him, and he was usurped by another Maldurian. He knew now why Terran was sought after so greatly, but Weptswur had its own reasons, right? They shan't have known of this likewise I didn't until now.

King Steed and Nightclaw had continued on speaking of the battle to come at Weptswur and Hildebran figured he'd better listen in again, but he dared not turn his head again.

The unmistakable voice of the false King came back into focus, "The Magi who apprenticed the magi with the Dragon Tusk, did you find him?"

"Yes, m'lord. Him and the boy were taken care of. The Dark Knights found him, and they were paid accordingly like you had suggested."

"Good...good. Do you have the Dark Knights of Dundor looking for the Maldur Slayer now?"

"Of course, m'lord. They are searching for him as we speak." NIghtclaw seemed pleased.

"Very well, Edmund Nightclaw. We must prepare to offer that traitor of a squire off to the Weptswurian once he is captured, they will take care of the rest and it should build great trust amongst them. The battle of Weptswur has come near, Edmund. I hope you are ready for your role in that. If you are to succeed with your part, you will have a seat by me in my magnificent chambers here in Mestrane. And soon after that, I will once again have the continent under my thumb. You may have pick of any of the kingdoms you'd like, and a people who are to serve you faithfully for the rest of your days."

"Thank you, gracious lord. I am grateful for this generous offer."

"Oh, and one more thing. Your man, on the table there, I'm afraid he has heard much of our discussion. Thus, I have changed my mind. Give him the same as the others, his ears have heard too much."

Hildebran flinched at the words. He screamed and screamed, but his body did not move. Nightclaw finished mixing the potion and stood over Hildebran.

"Did you really think you would be in charge of the Ki'vatsu?" said Nightclaw laughing. "I never felt it would suit. I guess it worked out that you heard everything then. You won't remember any of this anways. I guess it would be fair to go ahead and share with you what happened then with your sweet darling that you were wrapped up with when I so rudely awoke you."

Hildebran's pupils grew large and his groans weakened as he became tired from resisting the restraints. He quieted himself enough to hear this much. They wouldn't touch her. She had no part in this. Something told him to prepare for the worst.

"Oh, don't worry, its nothing bad. I just figured she'd be lonely on her own, so I gifted her to those lovely Dark Knights you met in Scourden. Abimelek, was it? You should have joined him that night when you had the chance. Instead, you're a traitor to every loved one you've ever known in Fereton, and now your woman is sleeping with a man who is trying to kill your dear friend, Terran the Squire." Nightclaw gave a patronizing look of pity and then dipped the syringe into the green mixture inside the flask.

Hildebran screamed and screamed but there was no one to hear him, nothing to stop it. He thrashed and screamed and the Ki'vatsu who stood watch did only that. Soon after the needle entered his skin, he screamed no more.