By morning, they were off. Lyse and Edlund said goodbye to all their friends, the few who lived in the village. Those who lived on their estate were nowhere to be seen that morning. Hardly anyone took the time to greet them. Men and women sifted through some of the burnt houses for any property, a body covered in blood and ash. Finally, they were claimed by the masked doctor, who loaded them all on carts for proper pyre funerals. They wished to visit Lidia's noble family on the hill. Still, the doors didn't seem open for any visitors, as guards were patrolled even more tightly and turning away potential visitors. Lyse knew that it was partly in response to Lidia's late arrival home and the attack on his home, but he feels pained not to be able to say goodbye to her one more time. Next, he said goodbye to his fellow squires, most of which were other sons and daughters of farmers, merchants, and blacksmiths who yearned to be in their shoes. Even Edlund, as proud as he was, seemed a little ashamed that he was sitting on his horse above the rest of them. Makyra waited impatiently, constantly asking them how long these departures would take. But first, Lyse visited the doctor's house, next to the training grounds for the knights, to see his mother. She was still unconscious, and her wounds were numerous. However, he was glad to see that many were bandaged and shallow, and her breathing unlabored. He gave her a kiss on the forehead, a promise to rescue his sister, and a shallow goodbye. Makyra stepped up as well, a bit to his surprise, and said a few words under her breathe, kneeling before his mother. He was curious. He never saw a person do such a thing for another. She said it meant nothing, but he didn't believe her. As stoic as she wanted to appear, he saw through it a bit more than others.

Nevertheless, they were all outbound from the small town of BrokenArrow, the sun's rays just cresting the horizon behind them, and the darkness that will enclose them for days before them. Makyra held the lantern a point, having the horse on a steady pace as she leads him and Edlund into the midst of the Forest of Silence. The name was obvious. Once a person enters the forests, they are not met with the chirping of insects, nor the hoots of owls overhead. No, they were met by a deafening silence that filled men with panic. The slap of hooves on the dewy dirt path was the only sound echoing through the trees. Unfortunately, this also made them easy targets to find. Manticores and the occasional griffin could be heard from a distance, as their wings made the trees flutter as they pierced the canopy. Lyse felt a chill down his spine, as if being watched, and saw the same uneasiness in both Makyra and Edlund. There was silence for the first few hours of the journey. Although the sun should be climbing the blue sky, they could see only darkness looking up. The first day was easy yet eerie. The next, it was hard for him to fall asleep, the silence too menacing to ignore. The final, he felt on the verge of panic. Makyra was not one for conversation, and on the ride, only a few words were exchanged.

Finally, Edlund got too impatient to allow silence to hold. "So, uh, Makyra?"

"Yes?" she asked, obviously not excited to engage in a conversation, but she reluctantly went on. "What is it."

"Just wondering how long you've been a Knight," he told her. "I mean, you don't look much older than us."

While Lyse silently bashed Edlund for his bluntness, he would be a liar if he said he wasn't curious. The knight sighed, turning back to the two of them with eyes that seemed to shine blue through the darkness. "In the coming summer, it shall be my third year."

"Third?" Lyse was undoubtedly surprised. "He has never heard of someone reaching the rank of a sage or a knight in so young an age. Most weren't excepted at an age unless they started training much earlier. Then again, he has yet to see any prowess she possessed, besides her ability to mend wounds.

"Yes," she said, looking down at the passing ground now. "I was recognized by King Imidius II."

"King Imidius," Edlund said slowly. "He died recently."

There was an uncomfortable shift in Makyra's demeanor, but she nodded. There was no change to her voice, however. She was carved from stone. "I was dubbed a sage and sent on a mission to hunt a band of rebels. Unfortunately, he died a few days later, and ever since, I've continued my mission. My question is, what makes you so curious?"

Edlund merely shrugged. "We are but simple backward country folk. The inner political actions of the clans at large interest is. I mean, where should we be sending our next crop yield."

"I take offense to be called backward," Lyse said. "But he is right. Why do you think they . . . why did they target my family?"

There were a few moments of thoughtful silence, and Lyse could almost see the gears turning in her head. She seemed troubled of something, equal parts disparaged. "Honestly, I don't know. I mean, if they wanted to throw me off their trail, they succeeded. But I suspect something else, however. They might have been looking for something."

"Looking for something," Edlund echoed. "Not to sound like a mockingbird, but Lyse's family isn't all that rich, you know."

There was a tingling in the back of his neck.

A strange one, unlike any he had felt. He looked down at his cloak, underneath which nestled the pendant that his mother gifted it to him. He felt it slightly warm as if silently signaling its latent significance, a significance that he was only beginning to realize. Why would someone try to steal this? It was a nice piece of jewelry, but it wasn't anything exotic enough to murder someone, burn an entire village to find. Then again, he has always felt that small magical presence, that warm feeling of power untapped. Could that mean anything significant, he was beginning to understand. But he's also not sure if he should share this uncertainty quite yet. Not with Edlund and certainly not the sage Makyra. She seemed way too suspicious showing up to him just in time, and something about her was off as well. The way she stared at the fire when she saw it, and when she bowed to her mother. She knows more than she lets on, any idiot can tell that much.

It was hard to keep time. Lyse tried to estimate in the eerie void all around them, from their entry till just now. He suggested it was turning to the fifth evening, at which point decided that a camp should be made secured before the night takes hold. They had bought some simple tents, just enough room for a single person. They found as much of a clearing that was possible in this forest and began making a perimeter just off the road. The difference of night was not immediate, the unmoving air slowly now becoming thick with a sudden chill, and a slight breeze carried it into every crevice within Lyse's clothes. In the faint distant, they could hear the faint cries and howls of wolves, and Makyra perked up, momentarily staring away from the fire and seemed to listen to the symphony of beasts.

"What's going on?" Lyse asked, taking some more dried meats and setting them on sticks near the fire.

Makyra sigh, stocking the fire with a stray stick. "It's a hunt. They found something they like, ten leagues yonder."

She pointed to her left. It was a wonder that sage was still so intuned with nature in such a way. He wondered what it was like, constantly with an ear with the beasts, unlike the average man.

"Better the prey than us," Edlund said, and sighed, already halfway into his own tent. "I'll let you two have first watch. Wake me in a few."

"Go ahead and get your beauty sleep," Lyse told him. "We still have a long way to go."

"I doubt it'll make me prettier, but sure," he disappeared. After a few moments of shuffling within the tent as Edlund tried to find any comfort, silence overtook the camp once again. Lyse was still holding his pendant, and now Makyra was staring at it intensely as if waiting for it to sprung wings and fly away. Lyse noticed this quickly, and although she tried to avert her gaze, they locked eyes with one another, and Lyse held up the pendant.

"You know what this is, don't you?" He asked rhetorically. He already knew her answer.

Makyra nodded, rubbing the blades on her gauntlets. "Yes, I do. What is it you want to know?"

"My mother gave this to me when I turned 13," he told her. "It was a gift. You seemed surprised that I have it. So what that tells me is that you're not telling the truth. Not to Edlund or me. How do you know my mother?"

She nodded silently, then looked to the fire. He saw some glimmer in her eyes as they reflected the lapping flames, and he wondered what she saw in them. There was a solid minute of uninterrupted quiet before she answered in a cool voice that yielded little emotion.

"I met your mother before," she said. "When I was young, she saved me from something, so I owe her my life. That pedant, she used to wear it all the time. She was an amazing woman."

Lyse furrowed his brow at these comments. She sounded so sure and certain; he might have believed her. Maybe they were true, but he was still confused, if not more so than before. He has never known his mother to be that far away from the village. As long as he could remember, she was always taking care of him and his sister, occasionally going out with his father at night, but that was about it. She was what was called a home mother, after all. But now he was intrigued as he had just found a set of puzzles ready to be solved.

"What did my mother do?" he asked her, urging for more information, but she slowly shook her head, still staring at the fire and not once glancing at him.

"I . . . rather not say, not now" she said. "However, that pendant, I don't know exactly what it is, but it is incredibly powerful, and they want it. You have to keep it away from them at all costs."

Those words echoed in his mind. He doesn't know why or how, but he felt some dormant part of his mind click into life, and he saw flashes inside his mind, like memories flooding in that was long dormant. He saw his mother and father on horseback, riding over a long plain. Then, it quickly shifted to a view of the forest outside his home. It seemed to breathe, and it's restless leaves billowing to an unknown wind like a heaving animal. The extensive fields are growing more vibrant and more luxurious than he has ever seen. His vision was then taken to the air, where he looked down on a scorched battlefield. Two large, clashing armies meeting as arrows, balls of fire and lightning followed. The ground upheaved in stress, and he could see how each of the various units shifted in this sea of chaos. Then finally, he was whisked away to a banquet-loud music blaring through the air like sirens. People were dancing in circles, selecting parties to release this uncontainable energy and drinking wines of various tastes and colors.

He heard a thousand whispers, angry and aggressive, and the pendant pulsed with power under a small green glow. He doesn't know how long he stared at it, but his concentration ended when he was quickly shrugged by Makyra, who had walked across the fire and had an urgent expression on her face. Her blue eyes now seemed to shine in the darkness, and her sage gauntlets were on, and claws extended.

"Wake up," she said in a shallow voice. He was about to question her, till he could hear the sound of rapid feet and the rustling of trees, and immediately his mind began whirring with thought. Immediately he grabbed his sword and then bolted to Edlund's tent, throwing open the flaps and smacking his friend awake.

"Hey, hey," Edlund groggily woke up with protests.

"We're being ambushed," Lyse whispered to him then exited. Makyra was putting the fire out now, throwing clods of dirt to extinguish the flame. Lyse unsheathed his sword and stood at the ready in the middle of the camp. Before he knew it, he began reciting techniques in his mind, summoning power to his limbs as he sensed the presence of several around them. He's glad that he hadn't taken off his armor, but he also wished he had a shield to defend himself with. Edlund rushed out with his own sword, rushing to Lyse and Makyra. They formed a tight circle, peering into all directions. They saw a rush of shadows moving through the darkness of the forests, flashes of armors, and hoods-men wielding swords and axes, sometimes spears that surrounded them from all sides. Lyse guessed about six, but they moved to give the illusion that there were more. Lyse took a deep breath, focusing his mind on his sword, and immediately it began to glow with a dull white light and hummed with energy, prepared to slice into the flesh of any who dared to face him.

The first to attack was a hooded man bounding in the direction of Makyra, slashing out, and going for her head. She ducked out of the way, the blade in his hand missing by inches, but in doing so forced her from their collective defense. He did not let up as he immediately went for another and then another. This time she parried the sword away, using her iron gauntlet to deflect the attack, and began to engage with the man in a deadly duel of blade and claw, but she had not yet transformed. Two more jumped from the trees at Edlund and Lyse. One, wielding daggers, stabbed at Edlund, who readied himself for an attack. However, the hooded man managed to get through his defense, whirling their blades in deadly arcs that threatened to slice him into pieces. Every so often, he would thrust back to test their guard, but they were no novice in the blade. They met each encounter with the grace of a performer.

Meanwhile, Makyra heard the tension of a bowstring, looking over to see a bow-wielding assassin from the treetops aiming down at her. She stepped back in time, the arrow piercing the ground where she stood. She growled, suddenly leaping out with her gauntlets at the sword-wielding figure. He was unprepared at her speed as she crashed into him, digging her claws under his armor. He staggered for a bit, before toppling to the ground, clutching his chest as touts of blood followed. Two more rose from the shadow, accounting for all she had sensed before. She immediately attacked in a frenzy, knocking one back a few steps, but not breaking his guard. It was obvious they were going to separate her from Edlund and Lyse. Lyse took his sword, filled with magical zoi, and slashed down upon the assassin before him. The assassin, however, batted the slash away with cat-like grace. Lyse attempted to block a thrust to his gut, but the sword only grazed the shaft enough to cause a gash nearly a hand long against his rib. He yelled out in pain, struggling and staggering backward with a raised defense. He was not use to combat such as this, but that doesn't mean he wasn't trained for it. He grunted through the pain to stand straight, the spear wielder still stalking closer and closer, making deadly arcs through the air. He got into another defensive stance and waited for another attack.

Edlund set out for revenge. The assassin before him back away as he made dangerous swings of his own, threatening to cleave her in two. Slowly, he was in control of the battle and leading her a bit further from her companions. When she tried to box him away, or streak, he was there with a blade aimed for the throat. But on a dime, she seemed able to defend herself, no matter how quick he could be. Despite his reach, he found himself taking a step back every once in a while. So he switched tactics and grabbed her arm, much to her surprise. His strength easily outmatched her as he swung and threw her into a nearby tree, which shook violently from the immense strength of a knight like Edlund. However, the assassin shrugged it off, springing to her feet as if she had only fallen, much to his chagrin. He had lifted carts and boulders before, yet she was able to shrug off such a hit. It made him all the angrier.

Makyra gave a deep guttural growl as her figure began to distort, features elongating and shaping, shifting into place before the silver wolf laid crouch, and lunges at the nearest target. On Top of the assassin's barely managed to step out of the way before a wolf nearly the size of a horse punched upon him. She then snapped her jaws, snatching off some of the cloaks, but not deep enough to injure him. The one she initially engaged with slashes his sword with both hands. His wound seemed to impact his strike as he only managed to clip her tail. However, there was a small yelp as she turned her blue gaze upon him like burning coals.

The archers turned his attention to Edlund, the arrow zipping across his cheek, and only making him aware of a new threat, and blood seeping from the opened wounds. The one he was fighting took this opportunity to stand and slashed again for his throat. But he was prepared now, using his superior reach to keep her at bay, and wary of approaching them.

"Who are these guys?" Edlund asked as he regained his composure.

"I don't know," Lyse's voice came out a grunt as he felt his cut become angrier with his movement. "And I doubt they care to fill us in." The one he injured, clutching the large wound Lyse made, advanced quickly to manage a serious blow now. Again Lyse parried the attack away, and his mind completely focused at this point. As he deflected the strike, he shifted to the assassin's flank, giving him the perfect shot at the attacker's back. Again he slashed, cutting through whatever armor was concealed under the cloak and into his back. He fell over, bleeding out now. One of the three that surrounded Makyra saw this and ran over to engage Lyse. Makyra saw this and immediately slashed out with her long claws still covered by the gauntlet. She slashed his shoulder, but still, he was focused on engaging Lyse. And she realized what this ambush was right then. The other assassins seemed very keen on watching Lyse. And Lyse looked barely able to stand for much longer.

As she attacked, another took the opportunity, but her agile nature allowed her to step aside and the strike miss. She slashed with both of her claws, but both missed as they carefully stayed a distance away. The one with the sword also took the chance, but she backed away from it as well. She was surrounded and cut off from them now. She knew that she needed to break away and get to them quickly, or the situation will only continue to get worse.

Edlund flourished his blade, making it hard to track where he would strike. With the aid of darkness, the woman seemed troubled and readied herself for whatever attack would becoming. He battered her defense till finally, he slashed across her stomach, the light armor parting, and the sword cleaving into the stomach and forced her to back away, but she was now shaking, clutching the grave wound as she looked around in search for a way to come out of this alive. Lyse focused aura to his palm, using zoi to create a wall of force to shoot out towards her. She was sent off her feet in a heartbeat, slamming into a tree in the next. HE ran to try and finish them off. The assassin yelled and took a strike with his own sword. Lyse again readied himself and deflected the attack. The only thing going through his mind was finding a way out of this. They still outnumbered them four to three. They needed to get back together, or at least run.