Immortal Stories

The War of Echoes

Part One:
Shadows Ascending

Sunset; and the sky was crimson, as though hungry jaws had reached down from the sky and pierced the sun with wicked fangs until the horizon ran red with blood. It was an hour of shadow, of creeping darkness, when the wings of night gathered her folds greedily over the world and chased away the light. There were those who feared the coming darkness, who awaited her arrival with nervous dread, but there were also many who rejoiced in the death of the day; one of them waited now, in a filth filled alley behind the Gutted Toad tavern in Keldabar.

Enveloped in thick black cloaks and shadows that rivalled the night, the figure waited in silence, breath billowing outwards from the shrouded head in clouds of white. There was nothing immediately sinister about this figure - except perhaps the very fact that it was standing behind the seediest tavern in a town known for its seedy taverns - but anyone passing would have felt, for an instant, the weight of ages pressing down on their shoulders and a sense of weariness and great pain. The passer-by would have fled that place, afraid of something they could not define but somehow understood; it was evil, it was goodness, it was nothing.

Now, as the last traces of red dripped from the sky a second figure stepped from the shadows at the end of the alley and approached slowly. The air crackled and the smell of sulphur filled the narrow alleyway. Had that same passer-by held fast and somehow found the courage not to flee earlier he would have certainly done so now, for this second figure was wholly evil.

"I have waited a long time for this Lord, a long time." The first figure spoke softly, unhurriedly.

The second figure halted paces away and nodded slowly. "Aye, a long time, but what is centuries to us who have lived through ages unnumbered?"

"It is nothing to those who have a purpose with which to fill those ages. You have had a world to rule, empires to crush, and the puny affairs of mortalkind in which to meddle. I have had the emptiness of the Void, the silence of aeons to think of nothing except my return. Do you know what it is like to be in a place devoid even of light and yet missing the contrasting beauty of darkness?"

For long moments the second figure was silent but at last it spoke in a voice that was heavy, oozing darkness. "Then let us waste no more time on idle talk. Tell me what you want. As you said, I have empires to crush and dark secrets to whisper in the ears of those lacking a will."

"Then come closer My Lord Seluctruh, and hear what I have to say."

* * *

"Hit him again Arun!"

Ducking a wildly aimed blow Arun feinted to the left and swung his fist in a wide arc that connected sharply with his assailant's cheek, sending the Haran reeling backwards like a drunk after a long night of ale. He risked a glance to the left and saw Afeek jumping up and down on his chair in a fit of wild glee. Shandar, the wizard, was standing beside him shaking his head in mild disapproval.

Damn them, thought Arun, dropping back a few paces to recover his strength. The enraged Haran was weaving unsteadily on his feet and wiping blood from his lips. They got me into this and now that cursed Katrin thinks it is all a game.

Growling like a bull the Haran charged again. Arun ducked to the left and held out his foot, tripping the Haran who ran headlong into a nearby post. Panting in exhaustion Arun looked around the rest of the tavern for any other source of trouble. Accustomed to nightly barroom brawls the other patrons of the inn had already returned to their ale.

The Haran had brained himself and was lying in an unconscious heap; several enterprising thieves were already plucking coins from his exposed pockets. Disgusted, Arun returned to his table, scowling as Afeek broke into applause. "Wonderful Effendi, simply exquisite. I could not have done better myself."

"Next time I will be happy to let you try," Arun growled, dropping into his seat with a grunt. "What are we doing in this God cursed place anyway wizard? I have no love of cities and this is worse than most."

"The armpit of civilised lands," said Shandar, nodding sagely. "This is near to your home is it not?" he turned to the Katrin with a raised eyebrow.

Indifferent to the hidden slur, Afeek nodded. "Morgaz is little more than a short skip east of here. It has been many years since I last wandered the jungles of my home."

"Don't get excited about a return just yet, Morgaz is not our destination."

"Then why ARE we here?" asked Arun sipping at his ale. He was impatient to be gone from this place and not just because the Haran thug looked ready to awaken at any time. He had a natural loathing for cities and the hatred they created. Being trapped within the confines of a walled city, unable to taste the freedom of the plains, the deep beauty of the forests, was almost unbearable.

"Our destination lies south of Morgaz and not far from the borders of Elsin."

Arun frowned, suddenly nervous. "There is nothing east of Elsin that could interest us. Unless...you don't mean the mist vale?"

Shandar remained silent sipping at his ale.

"I will not go to that accursed place Effendi." Afeek was serious now. The amused lines that constantly creased his fur-covered face were hidden by a deep scowl. "My people have many dark legends about that valley. No one ever goes there. Not if they are sane."

"Why would anyone want to go there? Even as far south as Kettin and Aina the stories of the mist vale are well known." Arun shook his head. "No wizard, you have brought us all this way for nothing. I will not venture within a mile of that place."

Shandar was silent for a moment, his face dark. Then: "I would not suggest this if it was not important, but I have heard news. Something that many have feared for a long time has finally come to pass."

"What do you mean, news? What are you not telling us?" Arun sat forward and stared at the wizard. He had known Shandar and the Katrin for little over a month, since the two of them had helped him recover an important artefact. He still did not trust either of them completely, but until now he had believed he knew them well enough.

Shandar sat back in his chair and sipped at his ale. "There is much you don't know about me and it shall remain that way for now. As for the trip south, you will come...or face the death of hundreds, maybe thousands on your conscience. These are your options. Choose how you will."

With a weary sigh, Arun nodded. "Then tell what you can. I will listen."

* * *

Elsewhere night crept slowly over the land, devouring the last rays of sunlight like a hungry beast. Dark and terrible things oozed out of their hiding places to hunt and to feed and to...listen.

There was a new presence in the world this night, something ancient, something powerful. Forces were at work, and those who would serve such forces were eager to seek them out.

In Aina, in the quiet halls of the great library, Argim Toran sat at window and stared out at the deepening darkness. His quill had been still for many hours and was lying forgotten now on his desk beside a half-finished manuscript that would one-day document the great Katrin-Minotaur conflict. He ran a trembling hand over the bald dome of his head and watched silently as light after light twinkled into being in the streets of the city. They look lonely, he thought, a few solitary lights in a world of darkness. But what if the darkness was eternal? What if the last of the light blinked out of existence and was consumed in the gathering shadows? What would become of us, if chaos claimed the world?

His questions hung in the air unanswered and with a sigh he turned from the window to resume his work.

* * *

Part Two:
Journey Into Darkness

Knight-Captain Kelldack shouldered his way through the crowd of knights clamouring for a view at the window and scowled in annoyed frustration.

"What in the name of the light is going on here!" he bellowed. "Lenris! Lenris, get these knights back to their posts and report at once."

A young knight detached himself from the main crowd and hurried forward. His face was filled with nervous excitement, the kind Kelldack had seen many times before on young soldiers about to face their first battle.

Lenris saluted quickly and skidded to a halt. "I apologise Captain, I should have reported at once...except...well, this caught me by surprise sir."

"What is going on? Speak man!"

"Lights Captain, in the forest," Lenris pointed a shaking finger at the window. "Bar-Gith is filled with lights."

His heart began to thud painfully in his chest. At once the dark thoughts of the past five years filled his head; the nights spent wondering fearfully what would happen if the Shadow Stalkers ever returned from their involuntary exile in the dark forests of Bar- Gith. The Knighthood did not consider it a possibility. In the last war the dark-spawned Shadow Stalkers had been all but obliterated, their scattered forces sent scampering back into the twisted trails of the forest. After a year of waiting for their re-emergence with baited breath the leaders of the Knighthood had decided their ancient foes would not be returning. So sure were they that they had left only a single outpost on the borders of the forest. This keep, Kelldack's first, only, and now most likely last command.

With thoughts swirling in his head he hurried forward, pushing the young knights out of the way. "Get back, curse you," he muttered.

The window was low, circular, and the only one on this floor of the keep to look out on the borders of the forest. Another irony, he thought. The milling knights backed away allowing him access.

He approached cautiously, filled with dread and leaned forward to peer through the window. He saw in an instant what he had already feared; the fringe of the forest was awash with soft, moving lights.

Turning from the sight he lowered his head and muttered a swift prayer. "Lenris, send a rider," he murmured. "Tell Lord-Knight Calladis the Shadow Stalkers have returned."

* * *

Complete darkness had fallen as Arun, Shandar and Afeek left the Gutted Toad. The streets of Keldabar were silent, as silent as they could ever be in this rogue's den.

"The sooner we get out of the gates the better," muttered Arun, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. "Even the mist vale sounds a better option than spending a night in this festering pit."

They moved away swiftly, Afeek leading the way. The young Katrin thief had regaled them on their journey north with numerous stories of his months spent in Keldabar, but now he was quiet as only a member of his race can be, slipping silently through the shadows as if he was a part of the night.

They walked quickly, slipping through the slumbering streets like thieves. Shadowy figures watched them from dark alleyways, and watchful eyes traced their steps from the shadowed depths of darkened rooms. Arun was aware of the scrutiny and had expected it. Keldabar was a town of criminals; its underbelly was floating on a sea of mortal scum as it had for years. In a place such as this there was no trust. Anyone leaving or entering the city would be watched.

Whoever the watchers were had obviously decided they were free to leave. Arun breathed a silent sigh of relief as the city gates came into view. Sleepy guards standing at their posts nodding as the three travellers passed beneath the stone arch of the city and slipped out into the humid night.

"Where now?" Asked Arun. He was a stranger in this part of the continent, never having been further north than the river Legan; the dry heat was uncomfortable, adding extra friction to his already frayed nerves.

"It is easiest if we follow the outskirts of Morgaz Effendi," said Afeek. "The mist vale is no more than two days south-east from here."

Arun nodded and they resumed their swift pace, following the gouged dirt trail that passed as a road in this backwater region. Away from the city lights the sky was bright with stars. Arun knew the constellations well, having been raised to respect the plan of the heavens. In the wilderness they had saved his life many times. He trusted them as much as he trusted anything in this world.

Thinking back on his life as a ranger, Arun's hand went instinctively to the amulet he wore around his neck. The metal was cool and reassuring. It was the very thing that had brought him together with his current travelling companions, when its theft had brought him back to Aina, the town of his birthplace, and a meeting with his past. The mage and the thief had helped him recover the stolen heirloom and in return he had accompanied them north, on this very quest.

"Your amulet is more than just a talisman." Shandar was walking beside him, the mage's long robes rustling as he moved. "It has a power you have yet to discover."

"What do you mean?" Arun tucked the amulet away beneath his shirt and turned to stare at the mage.

Shandar shrugged. "It has a power, some enchantment perhaps. I do not know for sure but I am a mage, I can sense certain...energies."

"Is it good or evil?"

Shandar shrugged again. "Who can say what the difference between the two really is? Even harder to judge an object, after all what is it but a simple piece of metal? A sword is the same, it can be used to strike down minions of evil and people name it a legend, an artefact of good, but give it to a man of evil and it may be used to strike down children or the infirm."

Arun nodded. "I understand, but what..."

A horn call, clear but deep, pierced the night air like the bellow of some great beast. Something crashed out of the trees on the right, a dark shape with a glint of steel in its gloved hands. Afeek let loose a cry of surprise as the figure bowled into him and the two of them crashed to the ground.

"Damn, ambush!" Arun drew his sword and rushed forward. Sudden movement caught his eye to the side and a second figure suddenly hurtled into view, swinging a large rusting axe. Despite its dullness the blade still gleamed in the moonlight, flashing as it descended in a deadly arc. Arun fell backwards under the frenzied assault barely managing to parry the first powerful blow. He could hear the mage chanting a spell and the muffled cries of the Katrin further up the trail but he had no time to wonder what was happening, all his attention was focused on defending.

Blow after blow rained down on his sword, battering him back across the trail until his arm was stinging from the force of the impacts. He knew it could not last; much more and the sword would fall from his numb fingers. Figuring on the untrained assault of his attacker Arun decided on his only available course of action. Feinting to the left he pretended to stumble, momentarily lowering his blade as he tried to maintain his balance. Sensing victory the axe-man moved in for the kill, raising the blade high above his head for the death stroke. Seizing his chance Arun dove forward like a coiled spring, punching his blade through the man's unprotected torso.

The man dropped the axe and staggered backwards. His hands moved to the wound and he uttered a single strangled gasp before collapsing backwards. Panting, Arun turned back to survey the road. A dozen paces further along the trail he could see muffled black shapes rolling across the ground while opposite the mage was shrouded in glowing light, uttering words in the arcane tongue. Two or three shadowy shapes were hovering outside the sphere of light, obviously hesitant about attacked such a powerful magic user. He can take care of himself thought Arun. Making his decision he sprinted towards the Katrin and his unknown attacker.

* * *

Kelldack watched from the window of his quarters as the lights swelled in number. The rider had departed over an hour ago but the Captain held little hope that he would return in time with reinforcements. Eria was over three hours away and it would take twice as long for the Lord-Knight of the city to muster enough men to make a decent stand. No, they were on their own, a handful of young, untrained knights against the hordes of Seluctruh.

"Captain?" Lenris entered timidly, unsure of his commander's mood. "The men await your orders."

Kelldack sighed and turned from his vigil. "Tell them...tell them to prepare for battle. There maybe little hope but we are knights, we have an oath to uphold."

Lenris nodded and licked his lips nervously. "Sir? Do you think we have a chance? Can we hold until reinforcements arrive?"

Kelldack turned back to the window. "Against that? Lenris, hope has forsaken us, only death awaits us now.""

* * *

Part Three:
The Road Darkening.

Windy Bluff slumbered, dreaming beneath the peaceful silver moonlight, unaware of the troubles elsewhere that night. Few were awake and fewer still moved through the darkened streets.

On Park Way a solitary figure moved east towards the dim lights of the town square. He moved with a purpose, his steps unhurried but measured, determined. He was shrouded in black, his head bowed and wrapped in blackness. He carried nothing save a simple wooden staff topped with a gently glowing crystal. The few people he passed were eager to get out of his way, not because of any fear or irrational hatred but because they could feel no life emanating from this figure.

He trod the darkened streets with ease and familiarity. He had been here before, a long, long time ago, at the birth of a new age, and again years later, when the fruits of his many years of labour were coming to bear. But things had fallen apart; he had underestimated those who might oppose him and the courage of a few had unravelled the seams of all he had worked so hard to accomplish. And banishment had been his reward.

This time it would be different; there would be no mistakes.

At last he stopped, his shrouded head bathed in pale torchlight, and lifted his staff up high. The crystal gleamed with a dull Inner Light. He smiled then and turned away; satisfied that nothing could go wrong. He had been given a promise, and though he had little faith in the promises of a Lord of Darkness, he did not worry that he would be treated false. It was in Seluctruh's interests to see this through to the bitter end, regardless of the consequences.

Like an echo of the past, a dark shadow of times now forgotten, he swept from the city gates and was gone.

* * *

A chill breeze was blowing across the coastal borders of the Steppes of Kuln; it was an ill-favoured wind, borne on waves from the west. For the barbarian tribe of Kattan-Din it would herald far worse than a bitter chill.

The lookout had little time to scream; even less to call out a warning as the first poison-tipped arrow whistled through the air to pierce his throat. He died gurgling to the Gods of the plain.

Chaos came swiftly.

Howling cries filled the air, shattering the silence of the night. Warriors answered the call, rushing from the tents with swords and axes raised; ready to face whatever the darkness had spewed forth. They were ill prepared. A seething mass of black shapes surged through the flimsy stockade, eyes flaming like crimson jewels, and began to kill. Their swords dripped with poisonous slime that could kill with a touch: just a scratch and the warrior brave would collapse shaking like a newborn colt, his eyes bulging from their sockets as though they would burst.

The slaughter was terrible. For every one of the attackers that fell, ten more took its place, hacking at the defenders with glee.

There was no refuge. For the lucky ones death came quickly, those less fortunate were spared, borne away for torture and a slow demise.

In less than an hour it was over. The camp burned; the once crisp air filled with the buzzing of flies and the bittersweet stench of charred bodies. By midnight there was nothing left. The attackers had retreated as swiftly as they had come, melting back into the night like wraiths.

Silence returned.

* * *

Moonlight shone down over the remains of the battle, reflecting in the dull pool of blood that was spreading slowly out from beneath the body at the side of the road.

Afeek was panting heavily some feet away. His face was bleeding heavily in several places and was currently twisted into a look that was halfway between hatred and fear. "What was it Effendi? Tell me that is not what I fear it is."

Arun scowled darkly and nudged the body with his foot. His sword was still impaled in the attacker's back where he had plunged it only minutes before in an effort to save the Katrin. He was loath to retrieve it. "I cannot lie; this is what we both fear. The Shadow Stalkers have returned."

Afeek whimpered and uttered a string of whispered curses, covering his face with his paws. Arun grimaced in disgust and turned from his gory inspection. "We have no time to despair. If this is a taste of things to come then our course must change. Aina must be warned."

"No, we continue to the mist vale." Shandar approached along the track, leaning heavily on his staff. Arun peered beyond the mage and nodded in satisfaction at the sight of two smoking bodies lying in a heap in the middle of the road. "What are you talking about wizard?" he asked. He made up his mind at last and retrieved his sword from the corpse of the Shadow Stalker. Whatever disgust he felt towards the creatures was better expressed with cold steel than without.

"We cannot deviate," said Shandar. "It would take weeks to make the return journey to Aina and by then it would be too late; war would be upon us."

"Bah, you can't hope to know that!"

"He is right Effendi," Afeek struggled to his feet, nodding his head weakly. "These four could be nothing more than scouts. If we spread the warning now the lord in Aina could send word to the other nations."

Shandar shook his head and sighed. "They were not scouts, how I wish they were. They are the vanguard of an awesome force the likes of which has not been seen in this world in an age. An ancient power has returned and we have but one chance to stop it."

"Damn it, tell us what you know," Arun swore, sheathing his sword in anger. "Or at least how you know it! How can we make choices based on riddles and half truths?"

"You can trust me," said Shandar. "I made a promise that I cannot break else I would tell you everything. Your choice is as simple as it was earlier: come with me to the Mist Vale or return to Aina."

Cursing bitterly Arun turned angrily and started off again along the road. "Then we had better get a move on. If things are as bad as you say you are at least we can hide in the mist!"

Afeek shook his head in pain and hobbled after him. "I fear things will get much darker Effendi, much darker indeed. As my people say 'Trust not to the ways of wizards for they are crafty and quick to confuse."

Shandar smiled into his beard and followed his companions.

* * *

Light radiated from beneath his feet as the God strode slowly through the cloudy vaults of his sky palace. His thoughts were distant, lost in memories. Long years had passed since he had walked the lofty halls of his ancient home, long years spent in tortured agony, a prisoner of the void he had once helped to defeat.

He could remember little now beyond the churning, chaotic emptiness that was the direct opposite of all he had created. For centuries he had fought against the infinite nothingness that lay beyond the shell of the world he had thought into being, fought to protect the mortal realm from oblivion, believing all along that he was fighting evil, that he was doing good. But now he knew he was wrong. The void was not evil; it was not good. The void simply was, and if it could be said to desire anything, it was chaos.

His imprisonment had been a costly mistake. A moment's blind trust against an old, old enemy and he was gone, swept away and shackled by bonds that could not be seen or felt but which were stronger than anything on the mortal coil. And there he had waited, fighting with nothing but his will against the agony of despair.

And then, something had changed. For an instant there was a hole, a vast rip in the eternal nothingness that had surrounded him. He had seized his chance, shattering the bonds that shackled his mind and immortal soul to this place and fled, barely escaping before the hole sealed itself once more.

And he was free. Yet...something was wrong. His freedom was not unwelcome, but there were many things that troubled him about the way in which it had been earned. Who or what could be powerful enough to tear a hole in the very fabric of the void? More puzzling still, who would want to?

His mind in turmoil, Tarin resumed his walk through the vaults of heaven...and wondered.

* * *

Part Four:
Fools and Warriors

A thousand crimson eyes peered out from the trees into the centre of the clearing where a dull, yellow light was slowly coalescing into the form of a man. Howls of glee rose from the darkness as the figure solidified and lifted its head slowly, almost wearily. The folds of a hood hid the face from view but the watching creatures knew who they were seeing.

A sturdy, powerful creature stepped from the assembled masses and bowed low. "My Lord," it hissed, a sound filled with malice and dark intent. "It has begun."

The figure nodded and sighed, a whisper that rippled through the ranks of Shadow Stalkers like fire. "Then there is no turning back. I set my foot upon this path a long time ago and now I shall see it through to the bitter end."

The Stalker nodded and waved a clawed hand at its companions. "The hordes have massed; they await only your order to cover the world in an age of chaos and terror."

For long moments the figure was silent, head bowed and still as though praying. Then: "The third age of the world is coming to an end. A new order is rising and like a wave it shall crash through the ashes of the old, obliterating everything in its path. YOU, the chosen of Seluctruh shall have it all; and the pact shall be sealed. As for me..." the figure was silent again, contemplating. "I was mortal once, a man like any other and ambition burned within me, but now, at the end, I feel nothing. I swore my life to the void, but I did not think it would take my soul as well! But what does it matter now? I have nothing left to lose and nothing to gain." He sighed again and began to fade from view. His voice echoed back to the assembled masses: "Loose your wrath upon the world."

The horde howled and screamed, a bestial, terrifying voice, thousands strong. Like some giant beast awoken from an age of slumber it gathered speed and crashed from the borders of the forest, a multitude of eyes blazing in the darkness like the fires of hell.

* * *

Pale light rose over the mountains, the first dim rays of sunlight piercing the veil of the night like gleaming, fire-sharpened lances. The bells of Eria were ringing throughout the city, pealing a frenzied warning to the nervous inhabitants. It had been many years since the bells had been heard last and there were few still living whom could remember it.

Lord Calladis was one of them, an ageing knight whose past glories on the field of battle had earned him this final posting: An honorary position as leader of the Erian knights. It was meant to be a position of ease; there was no danger in Eria, the hub of civilised lands. At least that was what he had been told. And, he had to admit that so far it had proven true.

He scowled at the table of assembled knights, senators and lords who had been hastily summoned from their beds less than an hour earlier and shook his head slowly. "No, this is not a joke senator Jadish, and neither should it be taken lightly. The messenger from my comrade on the borders of Bar-Gith reports thousands of lights, thousands! If this is true, then war will soon be upon us."

"Bah, there has been no sign of the enemy in Bar-Gith for years. We wiped them out last time they tried to take our lands. If you remember my Lord Calladis, they overran our city and it was only through the bravery of the defenders that we drove them back. They do not have the numbers for a new assault."

Calladis bit his lip in frustration. "Then what, you think the knights are hallucinating? Do you think they sent this messenger here as some kind of practical joke?" He leaned forward in his chair and slammed a mailed fist down hard on the table. "If we do not pay heed to the lessons of the past then we may not live to regret it. At the very least we need to marshal the militia and send word to Windy Bluff and Aina, perhaps even Phatep and Shagrim."

Lord Campari, temporary head of the senate and current ruler in Eria snorted loudly. "We do not marshal the militia on rumours and if we sent word of this to the other cities they would laugh in our faces. No, we must take time to consider this and reflect on our actions. This is no time for rash decisions."

"There IS no time. Have you not been listening? If we do not act now it will be too late. The Stalkers could be here in days! And what of my people in the keep? Am I expected to sit and wait while they die?"

"You have knights here in Eria," said senator Jardish. "Send them. Do not expect us to send our own men on a fool's errand."

Calladis turned purple and rose unsteadily to his feet. His blood was pounding in his ears, anger flooding his body. "There are fifty knights stationed here. Fifty! You expect them to fight back thousands of Shadow Stalkers? Very well, we will ride to save our own. You can rot here for all I care. I only hope when the attack comes, they end it quickly, for the sake of the women and children."

He strode from the room and slammed the door.

* * *

Outside, in the hall, Calladis met his second in command and beckoned for him to follow as he made his way out of the council chambers. "We have very little time. Gather what men you can and prepare to ride. Meet me outside the gates. With luck, we will be in time. The keep is easily defended and Kelldack is an able commander...still," he shook his head sadly. "I fear for the future my friend. The fools back there see nothing beyond their own noses; they spend their time bickering and fattening their purses, and when the time comes they will be the first to flee. The innocents of this city will die for their arrogance. That is the way of the world now and the way it has always been."

Calladis stopped on the steps outside the council chambers and peered down into the streets where the inhabitants of Eria were slowly wakening. "I was here when the Stalkers came last time. I was young then, and eager for battle. The hordes swarmed the city, butchering and looting. I saw men, women and children slaughtered in the streets; I saw them die at my feet and I could do nothing!" He clenched his fist and shook his head. "I will not see it happen again - not while I have breath left to fight!"

* * *

The early dawn light swept across the steppes, setting the grass alight with dim, yellow flame. On any other day, Kelldack would have welcomed such as sight, but this morning was different. This morning he had a meeting with death.

Standing on the ramparts of the keep with his men he watched as the legions swept from the borders of the forest and surged across the empty steppes like a black wave. He could not remember ever seeing such a force. There were thousands, a horde of bloodthirsty monsters intent on slaughter. He felt his heart bulge in his chest and his forehead broke into sweat.

"Archers!" His voice cracked and for a moment he feared he would falter, that his courage would fail him altogether but then he felt Lenris' hand on his shoulder, a familiar weight, a comforting weight. "Do not fear Captain. We will give them no quarter. We are with you to a man. The spawn of darkness will bleed this morning."

Kelldack smiled and nodded. His vision cleared, and for a moment he could hear the distant ringing of bells, calling him home, calling him to battle. "Archers, prepare to fire!"

The thunder rose and the wave swelled.

* * *

Argim Toran watched the pale light spread its arms protectively over the world and muttered a silent prayer. The Third Age of Mortals was coming to an end. An age of prophecy, of empires flourishing behind strong banners; an age of darkness and war when brother fought brother; and age of forgetfulness when the lessons of the past were ignored or obliterated from memory.

A new age was dawning. The cycle had come full circle: Chaos to Order and Order to Chaos. Who know what the future might bring?

Turning from the window he whispered another prayer and left the room.

* * *

Part Five:
Light Fading

Arun lowered his aching body onto a rock and sighed heavily. Full daylight had covered the land now and the surrounding countryside was awash in glorious yellow sunshine. Only a mild breeze marred the otherwise warm morning.

"We dare not linger for long," said Shandar. The mage was standing at the roadside and staring south. He appeared no more tired than he had when they left the Gutted Toad in Keldebar. Arun on the other hand was exhausted and ever inch of his body cried out for rest.

"We'll go no further, wizard, until I have recovered my strength. I say we sleep here for a few hours and then move on when we are fully rested."

"We do not have the time!" Shandar turned from his scrutiny of the horizon and scowled angrily. "You may not trust me yet but I implore you - believe what I say! For every minute we dawdle many hundred of lives may be lost."

Arun returned the scowl and shook his head. "No, I will listen to no more of this wizard until you explain yourself. You are quick to play on my conscience so now it is your turn. You say hundreds may die while we are waiting here; well, that seems sufficient incentive to me. Explain what you know or I go no further."

"Then remain here and think on who may die because of you. I will go on alone." The wizard turned and continued along the trail at a measured pace.

"Damn him!" Arun swore, struggling to his feet. "Never engage a wizard in a battle of wills, they are always sure to win!"

He followed wearily along, his aching legs protesting angrily and their continuing misuse. "How does he go on?" Asked Arun. "I feel done in and I must be ten years younger than him at least!"

Afeek was walking along beside him, panting in the heat. He shrugged and scratched behind his ear with a paw. "Who can hope to understand the ways of the mage Effendi? Certainly not I, a simple thief from Morgaz. Some spell perhaps?" At this the young Katrin brightened and smiled warmly. "Perhaps if you apologise, he will cast it on us?"

Arun growled deep in his throat. "Apologise? When Peryl's green flame goes out perhaps, and not before!"

* * *

Morgaz appeared out of the mid-morning haze, a great swath of green that stretched away into the distance. >From this range the great tangle of jungle undergrowth appeared impenetrable but Arun knew there were numerous ways in and out of the Katrin lands. Afeek had showered him with tales of his homeland over the past hour, explaining their ways and customs and their bravery against their ancient Minotaur enemies.

"The great brutes are twice our size Effendi, with arms as big around as tree trunks! And how they enjoy skewering the Katrin on those horns! If we had not the superior intelligence we would have been crushed and conquered an age ago. But we are cunning, and quick, while they are slow with the brains of an Ogre. It was my great-great-great grandfather who first thought up the..."

"Stop, please! I fear my head will explode if I have to hear much more." Arun wiped sweat from his face and peered along the road. "Just how big is this jungle?"

"Vast Effendi. It stretches from here to the northern ocean, hundreds of leagues and more. My people live in villages scattered throughout the entire region."

Arun fell silent, considering the sheer scope of the world around him. For years he had lived in the wilds, trading his skills as a ranger, priding himself on his knowledge of the wilderness and yet now he began to realise that he had actually lived a sheltered life. He had seen little beyond his small corner of the world and outside that tiny landscape lay wonders and marvels that he had never known existed.

The small group of travellers drew level with the outskirts of the jungle and continued following the narrow trail that wound through the long grass to the east. The sun was high now and it beat down on their backs with cruel intensity. For the first time in years, Arun felt his travel-worn cloak was too think and too burdensome. He removed it and stowed it in his pack, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he did so.

As the morning wore on, a sense of foreboding began to grow on Arun, constantly drawing his eyes to the dark green belt of jungle. His senses were acutely attuned to the feel of the wilderness, a trait he had developed over the years, and now they were telling him that something was wrong. He scrutinised the trees carefully, but other than the casual breeze-blown branch, nothing seemed amiss. Putting it down to his imagination he shrugged and hurried to catch up to the mage.

* * *

The first volley of arrows brought down twenty or more howling shapes as the army of Shadow Stalkers surged towards the keep. Terrible shrieks rang out as those creatures that were pierced by the assault collapsed to the ground; their brethren swept around the bodies like the tide over small rocks, and continued on, the thought of slaughter adding wings to their feet.

"Fire!" Kelldack swept his arm forward, watching in satisfaction as another volley of arrows sailed over the walls to fall among the invading numbers like windswept leaves. More of the enemy fell, but too few to make any kind of impression. He cursed bitterly as the first of the Stalkers reached the base of the wall. Some of them carried grapples tied to ropes and they swung them up and over the ramparts with startling agility.

Kelldack dashed along the lines urging several of his men to drop their bows to cut at the ropes. "You men" he bellowed waving at half a dozen knights ranged across the ramparts at equal intervals. "Tip the pots." The men heaved on wooden levers and the Captain watched grimly as huge smelting pots tipped over releasing their load of boiling oil on the Stalker's heads.

His joy was short-lived; not all of the grappling ropes had been cut and even now, more than a dozen howling shapes were scrambling over the ramparts, their swords drawn and dripping with poison. Kelldack drew his own blade and rushed forward, bowling into the first attacker and knocking him back over the wall.

Further along he could see Lenris battling madly as more Stalkers dragged themselves onto the battlements. Within moments they had formed a semi-circle which fought against the defending knights while more of their brethren clambered into view. Kelldack knew they were in trouble. If the Shadow Stalkers gained too much of a foothold the knights would never regain the upper hand. The only advantage they had was the elevated position of the keep walls.

Beckoning to five knights nearby Kelldack charged forward without waiting to see if they were following. He crashed into the semi-circle of attackers with a roar, bringing his greatsword around in a two-handed arc. The blow cut into the nearest Stalker deeply and the creature collapsed, toppling over the wall with a shriek of anger and hatred.

"Lenris!" Kelldack watched grimly as Lenris and his small force of men were beaten backwards and partially surrounded on the narrow wall. Almost fifteen of the enemy had breached the battlements and more were swarming over all the time. He parried a weak blow and ducked under the blade to swing a right hand punch into his opponent's torso. The creature buckled and fell.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw more of his men respond to the challenge at last, pushing along the walls to repel the invaders.

It was too little, too late. All along the wall more breaches had occurred, small pockets where the resistance was slight and the Stalkers had exploited the weakness to further the attack. Kelldack knew it was hopeless. There were too few knights to defend such a long stretch of wall. Every time a grapple was cut down, three more took its place.

Gripping his sword firmly in both hands he returned to the fight; in the end, it was the only thing left to do.

* * *

He sensed the presence behind him but did not turn immediately, preferring instead to watch the slow collapse of the keep to his invading force. Long minutes passed before the new arrival spoke and when he did, the voice was low, a whisper that could barely be heard over the tumult of the battle.

"It has begun then. I thought perhaps you might wait, gather your strength."

The black robed figure shook his hooded head slowly. "My Lord Seluctruh, I have waited long enough. They have had their centuries of peace, their long twilight of prosperity. How easy it has been for them, this past age, growing fat and lazy and placid. This is almost too easy."

Seluctruh drew up close and smiled. "They have not had it easy, I assure you. But let me pass on a warning, old friend. When you engineered your escape, another passed through with you. I was surprised you did not notice his presence."

The hooded figure hissed and turned his head. Red eyes blazed with fire from the depths of the robe. "Tarin? He is free?"

Seluctruh smiled again and nodded once. "I sensed his presence at the same instance I felt your return. But do not worry...he is little threat at the moment. He can barely remember who or what he is. The void fills his thoughts to the exclusion of all else as it has since the dawn of time, only more so now that he has a score to settle."

"It will not last. He cannot sit by while the world falls into chaos. It is not in his nature."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But you need not concern yourself. I will take care of my old friend."

* * *

Part Six:
The Threads of Deceit

He lay back against his throne and stared down at the world beneath his feet, watching the clouds swirl and eddy among the mountains and the forests. It was a world now centuries old, a world he had created with the aid of Seluctruh and the rest of the First Gods. The memories were returning slowly, but images of the Void still dominated his thoughts.

Abruptly he stood and left the chamber, feeling the need to walk, and to think, to clear his mind of the many trials that he had endured. The way ahead was hazy and incomplete, still fractured by the missing pieces of his memory.

He knew his name now; Tarin, firstborn, Worldforger; nd he remembered his birth, an explosion of light in the swirling chaos of the Void many millennia ago. For a thousand years he had dreamt along with the other slumbering Gods, letting the ages slip by in blessed darkness. But in the end something had changed; a simple thought perhaps? For in the Void even thoughts had weight. He had awoken and the act of creation had begun.

Yet beyond that first thought he could remember little except the Void and his hatred of it.

His focus elsewhere, Tarin did not notice the shape coalescing behind him. It was only the first intake of breath and the slow exhalation that drew his attention from his whirling thoughts. He spun around, releasing a slight gasp at the sight of the figure that had apparently materialised from nothing.

"You!" He pointed, the haze lifting from his memory for the briefest of moments.

Seluctruh raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You remember me? Then perhaps the void has changed in the ages since I left."

"It has not; I had to fight against the darkness all those years I was gone. Where were you? Where was the aid?"

Seluctruh shook his head sadly. "The Gods did not know where you had gone. We searched but...we did not know. It was only upon your return, when you emerged from the rift that I began to realise where you had been."

"It was so hard, old friend, like ancient wounds being torn afresh each day. The Void has grown strong since we abandoned it. Who knows, but perhaps we have been gone too long, caught up in the struggles of this tiny pocket of creation?"

"We could not abandon what we had created, what we had laboured so hard to forge from nothing. What of the souls striving to find a purpose? What of the myriad life forms we thought into being? I can never go back."

Tarin shook his head weakly. "You are right Seluctruh, I have been gone too long, I have forgotten much...I must remember!"

"It will come back in time, my friend. Do not try to force it. I will help you all I can. Come; let me tell you all that has transpired since you were gone. There is much you need to know."

* * *

Midday and the last pockets of human resistance were fighting gamely on the battlements of Kuln Keep. Their limbs were aching and their hearts low, for there could be no victory. The enemy had swarmed from the forest in the thousands, crashing upon the walls like a hungry beast. In only a few hours the defending knights had been all but defeated. Kelldack, Lenris and some half a dozen men were all that remained, and a thick press of the enemy separated them.

Kelldack fought tooth and nail, but he was tiring; his shaking muscles screamed for rest, pleaded with him to give up the fight and lie down. He knew it was close to the end now. A small mistake, a simple slip of his blade and it would all be over. But we gave them our all; the Gods can ask no more of us.

An anguished cry arose from the far end of the battlements, startling him from his thoughts. Lenris was backed up against the wall of the keep. He stood alone, the last of his companions having fallen seconds before and uttering the cry that Kelldack had heard. Milling Shadow Stalkers were pushing forward, eager to dispose of the lone defender.

Roaring in anger. Kelldack renewed his attack, desperate to reach his friend before it was too late. Swinging and thrusting he cut a swathe through the enemy, barely noticing as the bodies of his foes tumbled from the walls. He was close, only a few paces more. "Lenris!" He screamed, fear making his voice crack. A single tear rolled down his cheek. "Lenris!"

Lenris smiled softly and his eyes shone brightly. "For the light!" he bellowed and threw himself forward. For a moment he stood amidst the heaving darkness like a shining jewel, sword raised high in majestic defiance, his hair swept back by the wind. For an instant he was the whole world - and then he was gone. His light blinked out smothered by the darkness as easily as thumb and finger snuffs out a candle.

For a second the world seemed to pause, as though some God had taken a breath and stopped time. Nothing moved. Kelldack's heart pounded like a drum, an eternity between beats. And then sound and movement and terror crashed back, dimming the world for an instant behind agonised pain.

"NO!" He screamed, his mind's eye replaying the last few terrible seconds and the fall of his friend.

But there was no time now for mourning. He would soon be joining Lenris and toasting the Gods for eternity. "The light take you!" he cried, and charged.

* * *

Something was wrong.

"Take cover, quickly..." Arun's words were drowned out as the jungle suddenly erupted into chaotic life. Small, semi-naked men with painted bodies crashed from the undergrowth. Most of them carried spears or short bladed weapons, which they used to menace the companions.

"Pygmies!" Afeek grinned. "It has been many years since I last saw the small folk of the jungle!"

"They may be small but they seem to have a large hatred for us. What do we do?"

Afeek's smile faded as the leader of the pygmies prodded him with a spear and pointed back into the jungle, jabbering in a strange language. "It seems we are their prisoner's Effendi. They are...." Afeek's smile disappeared altogether and his eyes widened. "I believe we are to be their next meal!"

"We have no time for this!" Shandar rolled up his sleeves and the words of a spell sprang to his lips. In a panic Afeek waved his hands and shook his head quickly. "No, Effendi, there are dozens more of them hidden in the jungle just out of sight. You would not survive to cast a second spell."

Shandar scowled and lowered his arms. "Then what do you suggest? There is too much at stake to waste time with this nonsense and I for one do not intend to end my days as the supper of an underweight dwarf."

"It does not appear that we have much choice," said Arun, cringing as several of the pygmies grabbed his arms and tied them roughly behind his back. "Try and stay close, we may have a chance to escape before we reach their camp."

With speed, the pygmies soon had their captives tied up and hitched to a long rope. At a single from their leader several of the pygmies took up either end of the roapand led the companions into the jungle.

* * *

Part Seven:
Chasing Shadows

The sun was dropping low in the sky as Calladis drove his company along the final stretch of open ground. Kuln Keep lay on the horizon, a hazy silhouette against the dying light, but even from this distance the Knight could see that all was not well.

Columns of dark, black smoke twisted up into the air to hang above the keep like storm clouds. As the riders drew near, Calladis caught whiff of a strong, pungent odour, one he knew well from his many campaigns; it was the smell of death.

Calladis reined in his mount a short distance from the blackened gates and dismounted. His heart felt like a dead weight in his chest and a cold sweat beaded his forehead, despite the chill in the air. Even without closer study, he could guess what had happened here.

He beckoned to Ganis - his second in command - and slowly approached the keep. Bodies covered the small area of killing ground beneath the walls and a quick inspection turned up both Knights and Shadow Stalkers but far more of the latter.

"It is quiet," said Ganis, moving up from behind. "I fear we come too late."

"Perhaps, but we could not be late by much of a margin. Where is the enemy? We did not pass them on the Steppes, which would have been logical if they were to march for Eria and I doubt they would return to the forest after a bold attack like this, so where did they go?"

Ganis shrugged but his face showed his concern. "Little point travelling north, unless they mean to pass the mountains to reach Keldebar. That leaves only the south..."

Calladis frowned. "If Windy Bluff should fall we would stand on the brink. We cannot afford a loss of that magnitude for then the whole of Eya would be open to them, and if Eya should fall...There is little time to waste. Take the company and ride south as hard and as fast as you are able. With luck you can reach the city first and alert the Lord."

Ganis nodded, already turning to his mount. "And what of you?"

"I have unfinished business here. Kelldack was a friend and a loyal Knight; if his body lies here I will find it and bury him. Then, by the will of the light, I will return to Eria and crack some skulls."

"Light be with you then," said Ganis and spurred his horse southwards, motioning for the rest of the company to follow him. Soon Calladis was alone with the smoke and the circling carrion birds.

He turned towards the gate which was burnt and blackened by fire and was hanging open on battered hinges. He approached cautiously, watching carefully for signs of movement. It was unlikely that any of the Stalkers had remained behind but there was little to gain from taking unnecessary risks. He pushed on the gates and cringed inwardly as the wood collapsed with a crash.

Calladis stepped into the courtyard and stopped. The floor was littered with the fallen; comrades and enemies alike, and the scene of carnage was powerful and terrible. The Shadow Stalkers had not been content with simple slaughter and had hacked many of the knights' bodies cruelly. In one or two places crude scaffolds had been hastily constructed and they creaked as headless corpses swung freely from the wooden crosspieces.

Sickened and burning with rage, Calladis began his search. It was a difficult task, perhaps the most difficult of his life and tears ran unchecked as he moved among the lifeless shells of his fallen comrades and friends.

The light faded as he continued, the sun melting into night on the distant horizon. At last he could take no more; the smell and the sights before him had taken their toll and had robbed him of any will to continue. "I am sorry old friend but I can linger no longer," he muttered and began picking his way through the rubble to the gate.

Sudden movement to his right caught his attention and he halted, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. The dim light made it difficult to see but it seemed as though something was moving nearby, in amongst a cluster of bodies. It was impossible to tell at a distance whether it was friend or foe. Dropping to a crouch he moved slowly forward.

A soft murmur reached his lips. It was a human sound and a far cry from any sibilant hissing a Shadow Stalker might make. Relieved but still cautious he moved closer and suddenly laughed. "My friend, the fates are truly with you tonight!"

Kelldack stirred and groaned, clutching at his head with a shaking, mailed fist. "It does not feel like it. My head feels as though it has been cleaved in two."

Calladis knelt and helped his friend to his feet. The Knight-Captain struggled to stand, his legs nearly buckling underneath him.

"What happened here?" asked Calladis.

"Can you not guess? If I am right, my messenger reached Eria, else you would not be standing here."

"Yes, he reached me and I left with the knights as soon as I could. I had hoped, prayed, that I would be in time."

"You would have died here too," said Kelldack. He motioned towards the gate and slowly they made their way from the gutted courtyard and out onto the plain. "There were too many, thousands of them. We had no hope against them."

"Did you see where they went after they left this place?"

Kelldack nodded. "I saw, and I see from your face that you guessed also. We have little time my friend. We must ride to Eria and persuade the council to act or all may be lost."

* * *

Keeping pace with the pygmies through the thick jungle terrain was difficult for Arun and almost impossible for Shandar. The mage stumbled over every root and creeper; blundered into trees and was constantly harassed by a hoard of winged insects that seemed intent on making him their next meal. Afeek stayed close by, helping wherever he could, but it was plain the undergrowth was too much for the elderly mage.

In addition to his concern over his companion, Arun was becoming more than a little worried over their situation. The Katrin had proven right in his assumption that there would be additional pygmies hidden within the depths of the jungle. Almost as soon as the small procession entered they were surrounded by almost forty savages, all of whom were armed with spears or blowpipes. Even without the additional numbers the pygmies had the advantage of knowing their surroundings and being accustomed to life in the jungle. Any slim chance the companions had of escaping was becoming thinner by the minute.

The sun had nearly set when the travellers were at last herded into a large clearing occupied by a number of crude wooden huts. Bamboo cages were ranged outside the village. Most of the cages were empty but one of them, the last in line, contained a huge figure that was slumped against one of the walls.

"Effendi, it is a Minotaur!" The Katrin had come to a standstill and his eyes blazed with an anger the ranger had never seen in Afeek before.

Arun laid a hand on his friend's fur-lined paw. "I know what it is to hate," he said softly, "and I know the damage it can do."

"You know nothing of the hatred my people feel towards the Minotaurs. After centuries of bloodshed, still they rampage on our lands, killing and murdering all they can. The light take them!"

Arun fell silent, having no argument to contend with the cold logic of the Katrin. It was one thing to hate others for an injustice, quite another to hate them for hundreds of years of war.

Two of the pygmies moved forward, prodding the captives in the back with their spears. The small creatures gibbered in their incomprehensible language and pointed at the cages. The three friends were herded into the nearest and the door was locked.

"Now what do we do," asked Shandar, sliding down the wall and sighing with relief at the rest.

"We wait for full darkness," said Arun, peering through the bars of the cage at the pygmy village, " and then we make our escape."

* * *

Part Eight:
Friends and Foes

Despite the heat, Arun felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched the pygmies erect a huge fire in the centre of the village. He had little doubt about what would be cooked upon the flames once they were burning.

Shandar scowled darkly from his position in the corner of the cage. "Whatever you have planned, you had better make it fast; we have precious little time as it is without wasting it on these creatures."

Arun ground his teeth. "If I had a coin for every time you said that, wizard..." Arun left the rest unsaid and turned his attention to the cage doors. "Don't you have magic? Surely a spell will break these doors open like twigs?"

"Perhaps, but then what? Do you intend to fight all of these stunted ogres on your own?"

"Kaag will help." Arun turned, startled at the unfamiliar voice and saw that the Minotaur had crawled over from the far side of his cage to listen to their conversation. "Let Kaag free and he will crush skulls!"

Afeek sprang up, hissing, and spat at the Minotaur. "Do not listen to this heap of camel dung Effendi; his race can do nothing except butcher and lie. They cannot be trusted!"

The Minotaur growled and narrowed his eyes. Breath billowed out from flaring nostrils, misting in the damp night air. He turned from the Katrin disdainfully and spoke to Arun. "Kaag will stand no insult from the cat people! Make me free and I will gnaw his bones for you; Kaag will rid you of the annoying pest."

"Much as the idea appeals to me right now, I am afraid I cannot give you my friend to kill. But your aid against our captives would be most welcome." Arun rounded on his Katrin companion silencing whatever outburst he had readied. "We cannot afford to make more enemies! I understand your hatred, believe me, I do, but if we are to escape the stew pot we need his help."

"Effendi, we have not known each other long," said Afeek, "but we trust each other, do we not?" Arun nodded. "Then trust me when I tell you that the Minotaur is treacherous. My people have fought the brutes for generation after generation; we know their ways. Please, listen to my words."

"I have little cause to doubt you my friend, but we have no choice. If we do not accept his aid, we will die."

"I would rather die than accept his aid Effendi," said Afeek, then fell silent, withdrawing to his corner of the cage.

Arun sighed and turned back to Kaag who was listening to their hurried conversation with interest. "We will accept whatever help you can give Kaag, but once we are free, we go our separate ways. Agreed?"

Kaag nodded his bestial head and grunted, flexing his impressive muscles. He pointed at the pygmies who were now dancing around the fire. "Let me out and see how the Minotaur do battle!"

Arun turned to the mage who sighed and stood up. "I do not see that our odds are vastly improved but I will open the doors. Stand back." Closing his eyes, Shandar turned to the bamboo doors and spread his arms wide before him. He muttered several words in the language of magic and a small flash of light shot from his fingertips and struck the lock. It hovered there for a brief second and then bounced sideways to repeat the action on the Minotaur's lock.

Without waiting, Kaag crashed headlong into the door of his cage, and charged through, bowling into the nearest pygmy with a roar. The response was immediate; the dancing pygmies spun to face the threat, grabbing spears and rushing to meet the attack of the angered Minotaur.

"Damn it!" shouted Arun pushing his way out of the cage and rushing to where their weapons and equipment had been stowed nearby. "That fool will be slaughtered out there! The idea was to use stealth, not open warfare!"

"I warned you Effendi," said the Katrin, moving slowly out of the cage. "But at least he provides a diversion; we can escape easily while the enemy is fighting the beast."

"We will not leave him to be butchered," said Arun. "Help or not as you choose but I am going to his aid." He left the Katrin standing wide eyed and speechless beside the cage and dashed to the side of the beleaguered Minotaur who was roaring and pounding his fists into anything that moved. Pygmies were launched into the air, squealing.

Arun swung his blade, cutting into the pygmies as they swarmed to surround him. Sweat beaded his forehead as he closed in on the Minotaur, cursing as one of his attackers jabbed him in the shin with a spear. "Kaag!" he yelled, blocking a thrust and kicking out and the close press of bodies. "If we stay here, we will die. We need to escape into the jungle!"

The Minotaur roared, picking up a nearby pygmy and tossing it back into the crowd of its fellows. "Lead, Kaag will follow.

Arun nodded and was about to press forward when he caught sight of the Katrin running into the battle out of the corner of his eye. Drawing his short sword, Afeek moved forward slowly, preferring stealth to the brute force of Arun and the Minotaur. Smiling grimly, Arun turned back to his own battle and began to hack his way through the swarming throng of pygmies, snarling as the spears were jabbed at his face.

Without warning, a bright light suddenly exploded near the outer edge of the battle and dozens of the small cannibals erupted into flame. With squeals of anguish they broke off the attack and dashed away, heading for the well of the far side of the village. Arun could see the mage still standing in front of the cages with his arms outspread and his eyes closed. Shandar's lips were moving, chanting the words to another spell.

It was not easy, and Arun was cut and bleeding in a dozen places when at last he broke through to clear ground. He was panting and his arm was weary where it gripped the sword. Without waiting he dashed across to where the mage was waiting. He could hear the Minotaur pounding along behind.

"It is time to leave mage, now!"

"What about Afeek?" Shandar frowned and pointed back at the pygmies who were massing again a short distance away. Their ranks had swelled as warriors from the far end of the village joined their comrades and Arun knew they would not survive if the horde should attack again.

"He is not back?" Arun turned back to face the enemy but could see no sign of the thief among the masses. "Damn it! Wait here, I'll go and get him."

A large hand dropped to his shoulder, pulling him up short. "No," said the Minotaur, shaking his great, shaggy head. "Kaag will find that cat man. It is for Kaag that he attacked, it is only right Kaag return the favour." Without waiting for an answer, the massive beast roared again and charged back to the fray.

"Now what do we do?" asked Arun.

The mage shook his head and sighed. "Now...we wait."

* * *

Tatianna wandered her garden, lost in thought. The fragrant aroma of the flowers, the delicate touch of the wind upon her face; all of these sensations and more were lost on her this day as she struggled to find meaning in all that was happening.

Two days ago a great surge of energy had stretched its hand across the world, tearing a hole in the very fabric of reality. For a mere moment she had felt the Void surge into the gap, felt tendrils of chaos grope across the edge of her mind. But just has swiftly they had retreated, sucked back through the hole. And in its place...something else, something she had not felt in the realms in a long time.

Sudden movement from behind caught her attention and she twirled to find Seluctruh standing behind her, wrapped in a heavy cloak as though chilled. "What do you want here Seluctruh?" she asked, her voice kept low and purposefully calm.

"I am here with a message of mercy," said Seluctruh. He bent and picked a flower from the garden. "Why do you keep these things here? They have no purpose, no sense of destiny."

"They have purpose, even if your evil-clouded sense cannot see it. Things do not have to kill or destroy to have meaning; beauty and peace are also things to be treasured."

"As you say," Seluctruh shrugged and tossed the flower onto the ground, crushing it beneath is boot. "Of course, power will always overcome beauty and peace."

Tatianna's eyes blazed with anger and she fought to keep it under control. "Tell me why you are here, Dark One, then leave. I do not wish my garden tainted any longer."

"I am here to tell you that Tarin has returned. Even now he waits in his palace, thoughts of his imprisonment tearing away at his heart and soul. Go to him if you will, but be warned, there is much that he does not remember and his confusion may make him dangerous."

"Tarin is a danger to no-one but you Lord Seluctruh, a point I am sure you were keen to keep hidden from him."

"Tarin and I have always had an understanding, and friendship, though I doubt you would understand such things. We need each other he and I, two opposing forces to keep the world spinning on its axis. Remove one and everything fails."

"Is that why you banished him to the Void instead of trying to kill him?"

Seluctruh smiled and bowed. "My lady, my time is limited and I do not wish to 'taint' your garden any longer. Farewell." Smoke drifted up from the ground and swirled around the shadowy form, hiding Seluctruh from view. When the smoke faded, he was gone.

* * *

Part Nine:
Many Meetings

Gelltor, Leader and Lord-Knight in chief of the Knighthood listened in troubled silence as Ganis related the details of the fall of Kuln keep and the approaching force of Shadow Stalkers. In his mind he was already drawing up plans for the defence of Windy Bluff.

"Tell me," he said, holding up a hand and halting the younger knight in mid-sentence, "where is Calladis now and did Kelldack survive the attack?"

Ganis shook his head. "I left Lord Calladis at the keep searching for the body of Knight Kelldack; we did not believe he could have survived the slaughter. Calladis then intended to return to Eria to try and persuade the senate to listen to reason."

"I fear it may be a pointless quest, but if anyone can sway the minds of those thick-headed politicians it is Calladis." Gelltor frowned and paced before his desk. "I want you to go and speak to the Lord of the city and relate to him all that you have told me. He is a reasonable man, unlike those fools in Eria and he will listen. Advise him that I recommend turning out the militia and that all the gates should be locked and barred. I will turn out the Knight's garrison here, though I fear we are short of men. Most of the Knights are away on errands in the south and west; this attack could not have come at a more inopportune time."

Ganis turned and prepared to leave. "One other thing Ganis," said Gelltor, beckoning the younger knight back to the desk. "I want one runner readied for immediate travel. Listen carefully and I will tell you his message..."

* * *

Calladis left Kelldack at the garrison hall and made his way through the streets of Eria; his destination was the council chambers. At this hour of the night, the city seemed deserted, its citizens locked away in their secure homes, safe in the knowledge that they had nothing to fear, that the walls of their great city would protect them.

Calladis scowled and quickened his pace. It would be far more difficult now to persuade the council to take action in what was fast becoming a full-scale war. Even with the assault on the keep they would take the news that the Shadow Stalker army was heading for Windy Bluff as a sign that they were safe from attack. Any able commander would know this to be untrue, but the senate was full to the brim with politicians of the worst sort: spineless, self-centred worms that cared nothing for the city they had been appointed to serve.

Well things would change. He arrived at the small plaza outside the council chambers and vaulted the stone steps two at a time. Inside all was dark and cool and silent, the day's affairs long since over. The council members would all be abed. Calladis smiled grimly; well, they had a rude awakening coming.

One of the stewards came running, pulling on a woollen jerkin and looking very ruffled. "Lord Calladis," he muttered, pulling up short and panting loudly. "This is an unexpected visit, I...."

"Rouse the senators, we have many things to discuss," his eyes narrowed as the steward began to protest, "this cannot wait. Go and get them, I will wait in the council hall."

The steward left looking dazed and worried. As it should be thought Calladis, moving away down the darkened corridor. We should all be worried - for ourselves and for the fate of the world.

* * *

The army of darkness moved slowly south, passing through the swamps of fetin like a black cloud, a cloud with purpose and foul intent. A black shrouded figure followed behind, bent over his horse as though in pain. To those paying close attention, it would seem that this figure faded in and out of reality, like an illusion that is never quite solid. The rider muttered words in a language that was incomprehensible to mortal ears, and his form solidified, gaining substance once again. The head rose, and eyes blazed from within the hood like burning coals.

At the head of the lead column, Shulag moved through the murk purposefully, testing the ground for sinkholes or black mires that could suck any unfortunate traveller down into the oozing depths in seconds. The swamp did not agree with him. He preferred the dark, twisting paths of his home, in the forests of Bar-Gith. But the thought of conquest and slaughter drove him onwards.

"Shulag," a voice whispered from behind and the whining outline of Khemni emerged from the fog, bent over on all fours and shuffling through the muck like a toad.

Shulag turned from his pathfinding and glowered at the approaching Stalker, finding himself repulsed as always by the cringing, cowering underling. "What do you want?" he growled. "Unless you want to find the way through this bog instead of me, I suggest you get back to where you came from."

"Master wants you," said Khemni, pointing back through the gloom past the hordes of Shadow Stalkers.

Shulag hissed and set off back through the curling ground mist. It would not do to keep the Master waiting, not now, on the eve of their great victory.

The black rider was waiting at the rear of the column, his head bowed as though in prayer. Another figure had joined him, also clothed in black but horseless and radiating power far in excess of anything the Master could summon. Shulag recognised his true Master at once and bowed, lowering his head almost into the shallow waters of the swamp. "My Lord Seluctruh!"

Seluctruh waved his hand in dismissal and turned back to the rider, frowing slightly as though he tasted something unpleasant. "Think well on what I have said my friend. There are dangers of which you are not yet aware. If you wish victory in this war, you will remember the echoes of the past, and the lessons bitterly learned." Without another word he vanished in a curl of smoke.

Shulag looked up from his position on the ground, and breathed deeply, his awe and reverence fading. "You wished to see me, Great One?"

The rider nodded. "I have a task for you," he said. "Gather our forces and range ahead. Once in the forest do not follow the main trails to the northern gates. There is another, darker trail through the forest, it is little known but leads to the eastern gates. The Knights will not expect an attack on both fronts. We will take them by surprise."

Shulag nodded. "I hear and obey." He stood and returned to his command, leaving the rider alone, to dwell on his thought and his fears.

* * *

The wait was not long. Within moments Kaag hat returned, carrying the limp form of the Katrin in his powerful arms. "Run," he bellowed, nodding in the direction of the jungle. Arun could see the pygmies were close behind, their shorter legs unsuitable to the task of keeping pace with the tall Minotaur. Without hesitation Arun turned, yelling for the mage to follow, and plunged into the trees.

Running in the thick jungle foliage was not easy; vines and roots seemed to conspire against him, rising up out of the undergrowth like malevolent spirits intent on tripping him. Yet Arun knew that to falter would mean certain death. The pygmies were at home here; they knew the jungle well and they had experience of moving through the thick trees with ease. Even their small size would be an advantage here, whereas the bulkier figures of the men and the Minotaur would only serve as a hindrance.

He kept his mind focused on the route ahead, unwilling to let his thoughts dwell on the possible fate of the Katrin until they were free of the jungle and well away from their pursuers. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the mage puffing along behind. His face was blotched an angry red and his breath was coming in shallow gasps but he was moving with some speed and keeping up so far. Behind him came the Minotaur, crashing through the trees like the bull he resembled. The savages were not far behind; their painted faces moved through the undergrowth with great speed and as Arun watched they began to spread out, perhaps in the hope of overtaking the companions and surrounding them before they reached the fringes of the jungle.

Arun cursed silently and increased speed. Already he was tiring from the difficult terrain and any hope of outrunning the enemy was fast disappearing. Only the thought that the edge of the jungle was nearby offered any encouragement to his weary legs.

Without warning, something long and slender whipped past his ear and into the jungle at his back. Seconds later an ear-piercing scream split the air and Arun turned in time to see the nearest pursuer collapse to the ground, an arrow protruding from his neck. Suddenly the surrounding trees were alive with blurred movement as creatures dashed past, loosing arrows into the mass of pygmies.

Stunned, Arun came to a complete stop. He could make out few details, but it looked as if the jungle was full of...Katrin!

Howling with rage and fear, the chasing cannibals pulled up short, shaking their spears in the air. More fell as feathered shafts dropped into their midst. Their fear winning out at last, the savages fled, disappearing into the jungle. Several Katrin pursued them, firing a constant stream of arrows at their retreating backs, but in seconds it was over and the last of the cannibals were either dead or gone.

Breathless at their sudden turn of fortunes Arun beckoned his companions close and waited as the leader of the Katrin approached. He was tall for a Katrin; lithe, with a thick mane of hair and dark-brown mottled fur. He smiled as he drew near but upon sight of the Minotaur he came to a sudden halt, his smile fading.

At once Arun knew they were in trouble. Afeek had shown his strong hatred for the Minotaur, and he had been an exile from Morgaz for many years. Here, the war had continued for decades, and the bloodshed between the two species had spurred a deep and powerful hatred.

Without warning, one of the Katrin scouts raised a blowpipe to his lips and blew. A small, feathered dart shot from the hollow end and buried itself in the Minotaur's neck. Kaag bellowed in rage, but had taken no more than a few steps before he collapsed to the ground. Afeek tumbled out of his arms and rolled into a small, huddled heap a short distance away.

His anger rising, Arun stepped forward, but almost at once something bit into the delicate skin of his neck.

Darkness descended.

* * *

Part Ten:
Waking Revelations

Kelldack tossed and turned on the rough pallet that served as a bed. A combination of pain and the terrible images of butchered knights dancing through his mind made sleep impossible; but there was something else, something that hovered on the fringes of his memory, something important about the battle.

Frustrated, he rose from the pallet and poured himself a glass of wine from a decanter on the table. I shouldn't be drinking, he thought, rubbing his fingers gently over the wound on his head, but the Gods know I need it. He swallowed deeply then returned the glass to the table.

Outside, darkness was slowly giving way to the day; thin specks of light could be seen on the horizon, climbing the lofty walls of Eria to spill out across the streets of the slumbering city. Rising up on the left, beyond the spires of the council chambers on the northern end of the square were the Pardor Mountains, their white-tipped peaks wreathed in billowing clouds and early morning mist. It was a glorious sight, one relished by the bards and minstrels whose sagas often opened with the beauty of the mist-shrouded mountains, bathed in the pale light of morning.

Kelldack had risen to the sight many times, yet until now his eyes had been blinded to the raw beauty of the view, but no longer. Now he understood how such a thing could move a man's heart, and twist it like a youth's first love pangs. His own mortality hovering over him was the only tutor he needed.

Like a hammer blow the realisation of his near death hit home, sending him reeling for the pallet. Tears - the first in over a decade - came unbidden to his eyes and for a time he cried, mourning those who had been lost.

At last the pain faded, but did not disappear. He knew it would never leave him, but for now he could cope. And besides there were those who still counted on his strength; in the coming days, strength would be needed more than ever.

He emptied his glass of wine in one swallow and capped the decanter, his thoughts returning to more stable ground. Casting his mind back, he considered all that had happened during the siege of Kuln Keep, struggling to remember details among the carnage. There was something, someone, a figure on horseback, swathed in cloaks of...

A shadow passed over his eyes, and for an instant he felt dizzy. Almost at once the sensation passed leaving his thoughts clear... but terrified. Now he knew what they faced, and it was worse than anyone expected.

* * *

Arun awoke to an angrily pounding head and dim light assaulting his bleary eyes. Struggling into a sitting position he rubbed a hand across his face, blinking away the cobwebs from his mind. For a moment his thoughts were confused and hazy, but it was not long before they returned, reminding him of his last minutes of consciousness.

Sudden pain flared inside as he thought about what might have happened to Kaag. The brave Minotaur had saved Afeek - saved them all in fact - and Arun was not ready to let him die. Ignoring the protesting pain in his head he climbed to his feet and surveyed his surroundings.

The sun was up, slanting rays of light cutting through the foliage of the jungle to illuminate a small village of wooden huts. The huts were stilted, and connected by a number of wooden walkways that were held up with hemp rope and thick vines. Katrin's crossed the swaying bridges with remarkable agility, tails held out behind to add balance and stability.

Arun was in a cage - his second in less than a day - and though this one was bigger than the one he had been held in at the pygmy camp, it was no less a prison. The mage was slumped on the floor, staring out at the bustling Katrin village. Somehow he had managed to keep hold of his pipe and he was puffing on it moodily. Arun nudged him with his foot and nodded out at the village. "Where are we?" he asked. "And where are Afeek and the Minotaur?"

"The light if I know!" said Shandar, clambering to his feet. "The Minotaur is probably dead; his kind do not last long in Morgaz. As for Afeek, your guess is as good as mine, though he is a Katrin; I suppose he was given better guest quarters than we were."

"Damn it!" swore Arun, slamming his hands against the bars of his cage. "We should never have left Aina, mage! This journey was doomed from the moment it set out."

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Shandar eyed the ranger with interest, his head wreathed in a cloud of grey smoke. "Do not think to guess the mind of the Gods in all this. Perhaps it was their intent that we end up here? You are too quick to despair my friend and that can be a fatal flaw; the world needs your courage."

"Why? What are we here for? I need answers Shandar."

The mage sighed and nodded. "If it will improve your disposition and ensure your co-operation then so be it. But do not think that I take my promises lightly Arun; it is only because there is no other choice that I will tell you what I know. If then you wish to turn around and go back to Aina then that is your choice."

Arun nodded, and listened as Shandar told his tale.

* * *

Ganis walked his section of wall alone, lost in his thoughts. Daybreak had come swiftly, but Windy Bluff still slumbered behind him, so far unaware of the danger that was fast approaching. At the behest of Gelltor, the Lord of the city had ordered the gates closed and barred and a watch posted on the walls. At the first sign of the Stalker army the alarm would sound and the militia would run to the defense.

Runners had also been sent - south to Erinswood, and west to Haran, in the hopes of enlisting the aid of the elves and the desert folk; in ages past, both nations had been instrumental in the defeat of the Shadow Stalkers and their undead brethren, the Vampires. There was little hope that either army would reach the city in time but there was always a chance.

Ganis stopped and peered out over the walls at the dark forest that bordered the town. Somewhere within those swaying trees was an army whose sole desire was the conquest of the world. The Shadow Stalkers were a heartless foe, with no love for any other forms of life. They butchered for the sheer pleasure of it, and delighted in death and torment. There was no more feared enemy in the world, and it was with a black heart that Ganis faced the coming day.

It was impossible to judge when the attack would come. The Stalkers had little love for daylight, but were not afraid of attacking during the sunlit hours, when an assault would not be expected. Ganis stroked his scabbard with a trembling hand.

"What news?" Gelltor approached along the wall, his head turned to survey the surrounding woodland. His face was set in a mask of grim resolve.

"Nothing to report so far, though I doubt the army can be far behind. Even reckoning for the size of the army it would not take them more than a day's march to get from the southern borders of Kuln to here."

Gelltor nodded. "I am sending more men up from the barracks at full daylight. Should the Stalkers attack with force we will need to be prepared."

"I only hope it will be enough," said Ganis. He could not keep the tremor from his voice but Gelltor did not seem to notice.

"It will have to be, by the Light, or Eya will fall."

* * *

Part Eleven:
Dark Paths of the Soul

Afeek looked out from the window of the locked hut where he was being held as a "guest" of the Katrin. His mind swam with confused thoughts and images. He could remember little of the past few hours of his life; the last thing he could recall was being hit across the head by a pygmy spear, then huge hands lifting him gently from the ground before darkness engulfed him.

Now he was here, back among his own people...yet somehow, it felt wrong. He had not seen anything to suggest his companions were here with him, and the only Katrin to speak to him had been a serving girl who did little save answering a few of his questions with a bowed head. Despite the joy he felt at being back among his own people he could not shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

Without warning the door swung open and a Katrin stepped into the hut. He was tall, for his race, with a ginger and black-striped fur that was uncommon. His eyes were jade green, sparkling with shrewd intelligence and cunning. In places, his thick fur was patched and the skin underneath marred by long scars. A fighter thought Afeek, bowing. This is a war camp!

"Katrinia's blessings Afeek," said the stranger, bowing in return. "It is good that you are awake for there is much to discuss."

"Who are you?" asked Afeek. "Where are my friends?"

"If you mean the two humans," said the Katrin, ignoring Afeek's first question, "then you may be glad to know they are safe, and not far from here. If you mean the Minotaur - and for your sake I sincerely hope you do not - you need not concern yourself. He will not be here for long."

"What will you do with him?"

The stranger raised a fur-lined eyebrow in query. "What does it matter? He is to die; there is little more you need to know. Now, there are things to discuss."

"I wish to see my friends Effendi."

For a moment, the stranger's eyes blazed, as if in fury, but it vanished quickly and the Katrin frowned. "There will be time enough for that later. For now, I hope you will do me the simple courtesy of answering my questions. What are you doing here? And why were you travelling in the company of a Minotaur?"

Now it was Afeek's turn to anger. "I travel with whom I please Effendi! As to why I am here, that is my business alone."

"It is my business if it involves the safety of the Katrin tribes of Morgaz." The stranger got up and paced the width of the room, studying Afeek with glittering eyes. "You will answer my questions, but think carefully. On my honour Afeek, I will not hesitate to slay you if I feel that your presence here is a danger. Remember that we are at war! You may have forgotten our struggles in your wanderings, but for those who suffer and die in this war, it is a very real threat. So I ask you again; why are you here?"

Afeek was silent, studying the strange Katrin with renewed interest. The face was familiar somehow, a vague memory from his earliest years. But the more he thought about it, the more fleeting the memory became. At last he sighed and shook his head. "I am here with friends. We travel south to the Mist Vale, at the bequest of the mage. We met the Minotaur only a short time before you found us; he helped us escape from the pygmies."

"What sane reason would you have for travelling to the Mist Vale? There is little to be found there but ghosts and horror."

Afeek shrugged. "My trust in Effendi Shandar. I needed no other reason."

"Very well," the Katrin stopped his pacing and beckoned for Afeek to follow him, "I will take you to your friends."

Afeek followed him from the hut and along a series of interconnected wooden walkways into the heart of the village. The Katrin fighter stopped suddenly and pointed. Afeek's thoughts were focused inward, centred on his friends, and at first he did not notice what was before him.

If his guide had been hoping for shock, he was not disappointed. Afeek stopped, in the centre of a large, wooden plaza, and stared, slack-jawed at the sight before him. Bile rose unbidden in his throat and he gagged reflectively.

In the very centre of the plaza was a tall, wooden pole. The Minotaur, Kaag, was lashed to the pole with tightly bound rope that was cutting into the creature's wrists and ankles. Blood dripped to the ground. The bare chest of the Minotaur was covered in angry red welts, caused, Afeek guessed, by the burning tongue of the whip. Across the Minotaur's thighs were long gashes, as though he had been repeatedly beaten with the edge of a sword. Kaag's head was bowed in defeat, the powerful Minotaur no longer having the strength in his great body to fight back.

"Do you pity him?" asked the Katrin. A cruel smirk creased his face, as though he was enjoying Afeek's discomfort.

"I pity any creature who has to endure such torture. Have we fallen so low Effendi, that we come to this?"

"Do not pity him, my friend," said the Katrin, resuming his walk. "His people have done the same and worse to us."

But does that give us the right to do the same thing to them? Thought Afeek. If we believe it, then we are no better than animals.

He followed his guide through the rest of the small village, coming at last to the outskirts, where a number of cages were ranged along the edge of a sturdy wooden platform.

"Your friends," said the Katrin, pointing to the nearest cage. "Go and speak to them."

Afeek hurried forward, aware all the time of the strange Katrin's eyes studying him closely. "Effendi Arun," he said. "It is good to see you!"

Arun smiled weakly and nodded. "I had hoped you were safe, but I could not be sure. Tell me, have you seen anything of the Minotaur? The mage here believes him dead but I had hoped..." Arun's words faded at the sight of the Katrin's grim face. "Then Shandar is right; Kaag is dead?

Afeek shook his head slowly. "No Effendi, not dead; not yet. But it will not be long. We can do nothing for him."

Arun was silent for a moment, studying the thief's features carefully. He could read nothing on the Katrin's impassive face. "I cannot accept that Afeek, and I will not. He saved your life!"

Afeek's eyes widened. "You lie!" he hissed, surprised at the unexpected anger in his voice. Only minutes before he had felt revulsion and disgust at what his people had done to the Minotaur, and yet he could not deny that he had felt some satisfaction at the sight of one of his age old enemies brought low. Was he no better than his own people?

"You know I am telling the truth Afeek," said Arun softly, "and I understand how difficult it must be. I have felt the same anger, my friend; felt it burn inside me like hot coals. But there must come a time when one person can stand up and say 'no more! The hatred ends here!' If there is nobody with the strength to do it, then the pain and the hatred and the anger will go on, until your two peoples destroy one another. It is your choice Afeek, but I believe you have that strength."

Afeek turned away without speaking and returned to where the Katrin fighter was waiting for him. "I am ready to go back now," he said. "I have done what I came to do."

* * *

The council meeting was a mistake.

Calladis had shouted until his voice was raw but it made little difference. The senators refused to listen to reason, citing his requests as 'unreasonable', and 'the product of cowardice'. At this last insult Calladis had felt his veins burn with anger and it had been all he could do to refrain from throttling the senator.

He knew now that he wasted his time. He could not persuade them to take action; nothing short of a full invasion of Eria would serve to sway them now, and the Shadow Stalkers had been too smart for that. They had bypassed the heavily fortified Mountain City for the softer target of Windy Bluff. While there was no immediate danger to their scrawny necks, the council would do nothing.

Calladis looked at them in disgust, breathing heavily with anger and exhaustion. "We are done here. I only ask one thing, that you look to the women and children of this city. Get them to safety. The dwarves will help them; they have tunnels and caves in their mines that it would take a lifetime of searching to find. Send the innocents there, do not let them die for your own ignorance!"

Senator Jardish sneered in contempt. "There is no danger Knight! We will not waste effort and time on a fool's errand. Nor will I, for one, waste any more of what remains of the night. I bid you all farewell." He stood to leave, but at that moment the doors of the chamber burst open with a resounding boom and Kelldack entered, his eyes scanning those present with fevered intensity.

Calladis stood and was about to speak when Kelldack waved a hand for silence. "I already know what the answer was my Lords and I come to tell you all that you are fools! Calladis is right and I have the proof. It came to me while I waited in my room with my grief." A few of the senators shifted uneasily but nobody spoke. Kelldack smiled humourlessly. "There was a leader among the Shadow Stalkers; a man, swathed in cloaks. I caught nothing but glimpses of him during the battle, but at the end, when all was lost, he threw back his hood, as though to glory in his victory and I saw his face."

There was a hush in the hall; a tense, measured pause, as though the word held its breath.

"It was the face of Golan Loman!"

* * *

Part Twelve:
The Greatest Act

Full daylight came at last and the warm, golden rays brought fresh hope to the hearts of those walking the walls of Windy Bluff. But in the dark, shadow wreathed interior of Windy Bluff forest, only the brightest beams were able to penetrate. Here, in the dark heart, all was quiet, save for the grunting, whispered arguments of the Shadow Stalkers.

Golan Loman sat astride his horse; his body wreathed in cloaks and robes of black. His head was bowed, lost in thought and memory. He cast his mind back, remembering...

Blood drenched the streets of the city and the screams of the dying were carried to his ears on currents of fear and terror. He smiled and watched in fascination as a vampire pounced on a cringing, petrified woman in a nearby doorway and sank his fangs into her neck. Golan felt no joy at the sight, only a simple, abiding sense of harmony.

He walked on through the streets, untouched by the chaos around him. The dead and the dying lay where they had fallen; some mewled at him for aid, or tried to crawl away toward the gates of Eria. He stopped and watched some of them, intrigued by their will for survival, their battle against the inevitable.

But it was as he approached the heart of the city, where the senate held its seat of power, that those who would dare stand against him rose from the ashes of defeat and barred his way. He had never been beaten, but now, as he moved forward to meet them, he felt his first twinges of doubt...

Golan cursed under his breath and felt his face twist in anger. There would be no stopping him this time. The heroes of the past were all gone, nothing but dust on the wind now.

He smiled and felt his body relax; felt the emptiness of the void wash over him like a soothing wave. It was almost time to face his destiny.

* * *

The day passed slowly, as if the world held its breath, unwilling to face what the night held; but darkness came at last, crawling over the world like some great insidious shadow of evil.

Kaag hung from the wooden pole with weary, aching arms and awaited death. His head hung down between his shoulder blades hiding a face that was covered in cruel slashes and coated in a layer of grime and rotting vegetables. Whip marks criss-crossed his back and one of his horns had been shorn off. He did not even cringe now when something was thrown at him; he barely noticed the rock bouncing off his shoulder and drawing blood. He was lost in another world, beyond pain, waiting only for the end.

As evening drew to a close, long shadows reached their grasping claws across the plaza, and the jeering, cruel mass of Katrin began to dissipate. Kaag felt his dark thoughts turning inwards, as images of his rugged homeland flashed through his mind. He could see the ships passing through the Great Canal, with sails of white unfurled and billowing in the mountain wind; he could hear trumpets bellowing, calling home the heroes. A lone tear rolled down his eye but he blinked it away angrily. He would not die showing his weakness to the Katrin; he would die as one of the Minotaur - proud to the end.

"Do not move Effendi," a voice whispered suddenly from behind him. Kaag frowned and lifted his head slowly. He recognised the voice.

"What you want, little thief?" he asked. "Come with stones like friends?"

Afeek grunted softly and Kaag felt hands probing at the ropes that bound his wrists to the post. "No, I have come to set you free." Suddenly the pain in his wrists was gone and Kaag felt himself crashing to the ground. He landed with a thump that knocked him to his hands and knees. Afeek dropped lightly to the wooden plaza behind him and moved to his side. "Can you walk Effendi? Do you have the strength?"

Kaag nodded weakly and staggered to his feet. "Why? Why you help Kaag?"

Afeek was silent for a moment, his dark eyes glittering in the dim street lamps. "My people have fallen from the light. We have lost what honour we had. I did not realise it until I saw you, Effendi, and felt the hatred boil around my soul like a festering wound. It must end somewhere."

"You will be outcast?"

Afeek nodded. "I can never return here. This is the last time I will see my homeland."

Kaag raised his hand and lay it gently on the Katrin's shoulder. "Kaag count you as friend."

Afeek smiled in the darkness. "Then come, friend Kaag, it is time to rescue our friends."

* * *

Dark shadows moved outside the cage. Arun watched them approaching with slitted eyelids, his body tensed. If it was his captors, he would be ready for them.

A massive, hulking shape moved into the dim light near the cage and the shaggy, bull-headed muzzle of the Minotaur came into view. Arun breathed a sigh of relief and moved to the bars of the cage. "It is good to see you," he whispered. "But how...?"

"Effendi Kaag and I came to an agreement," said Afeek, moving stealthily out of the shadows. "He will take a bath at least once a week and I will not taunt his lineage. It is acceptable on both sides."

Arun smiled happily. "Then perhaps the door?"

"Happily Effendi," Afeek moved to the door swiftly and inserted a pick into the lock; within seconds the door was swinging lightly open.

Arun turned to the back of the cage and gently shook the slumbering form of the mage. Shandar sat up with a grunt and peered around with bleary eyes. "Eh? What's going on? I was dreaming that the Sultana of Shagrim was my wife and...well, you do not need to know the rest. Afeek? Ah, at last. Then perhaps we can leave?"

Arun shook his head in amusement. "The sooner the better. Come on old fool."

They moved out of the cage and Afeek led the way along the slumbering boardwalks in the direction of the village. Arun watched their rear closely, tense for any sign of pursuit. He frowned slightly as they progressed rapidly; something was wrong. The streets were too quiet, devoid of any hint of life. What village died completely at night? There was not even a watch...

Sudden movement in the shadows caught his attention and he hissed in anger. "Afeek, it's a..." His words were cut off as several small spears flew past his head with unnerving accuracy. Only the lack of light saved him from being impaled.

A furry form rushed past him in the direction of the shadows. "Lead them away Effendi," said Afeek. "It is me they want."

Arun grabbed at him but the Katrin darted out of reach. "What are you talking about Afeek? They want the Minotaur..."

Akeek smiled sadly in the darkness. "No, my friend. The Minotaur was the bait. You see I know their leader and he knows me. It has been a long time and I did not r