"What is he like, that Rainblood guy?" A boy with scattered blonde hair lay on his belly at the top of a peak overlooking the hundreds of small fires that scattered out along the crumbled fortress of Raideth's border.

"Aye, I never met him myself, but I've heard from tales 'n stories that the lads a character." The man who lay alongside him chewed valiantly on a piece of stale bread hard as a rock.

The first man rubbed a palm over the peach fuzz of his chin, "Ah, every lad is a character with you, isn't he? What's with the tales you been hearing about him?"

"Aye, Vince. I'll tell you what. If I tell you a true tale of the man, you have to take first watch tonight. I don't fancy story time at the moment, we've travelled all day." His voice had gone into a grumble.

Vince jutted his head back and rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement, nonetheless. He knew he'd be taking first watch anyways, and it would most likely last the majority of the night. He always felt timid at waking up his superior, even when his mentor had demanded that they split the watch evenly.

"So how about the Rainblood man, yeah?"

The two were staring straight ahead at the swarm of men, who moved around and set up little colonies of tents and camps like ants and their anthills. The bright orange fires light up the night like glowing red bugs from afar.

Fintan squinted his dark eyes and wet his lips. Inwardly he enjoyed impressing the young apprentice with his stories. It had been a recurring theme throughout their journey. Fintan looked down at the stone in his palm and he stroked it with his free thumb. Its light was dim but grew brighter as he stroked it before putting it back in his cloak pocket. Vince pretended not to notice, continuing to look out amongst the camp down below. His gaze went upward towards the sky, littered with stars. Vince pulled the rough blanket underneath him around his body and clung tightly. The wind was starting to pierce through his cloak and sending chills through his body.

Fintan began, "The tale goes back a decade or so. There are brothers. Torval and Bastu. The Rainblood brothers. The story starts with what many would say was the first day of the War of the Last Kings. Something was off—"

"—Fintan what is that?" Vince was pointing behind them towards the woods. They were huddled at the cliff's ledge overlooking the camp below, but there was a rustling about thirty yards away where the wood line began, and darkness dwelled within the thick forest.

At first Fintan glared at Vince, he was always jumpy and overzealous at small things, yet Fintan could sense something off. He felt prickles on his neck when a sound emerged from the darkness. It couldn't have come from a man, and no animal that the two were aware of. Vince looked to Fintan, who appeared startled for once. Fintan withdrew the dim stone from his cloak and pressed it to the blade of his sword, grinding the stone against the dull metal of the blade. The powder residue from the small stone began spreading along the once dull blade, livening it up into a bright, immaculate blade. Vince stared for just a moment in admiration, and then back at his own blade that sat in his grasp, dull and cold metal.

"Sshhh. Remember what I taught you. Still as the night, quiet as the wind." Fintan muttered the words, but his attention was focused on the rustling that grew closer. Suddenly all noise stopped, and the two men stood poised, knees slightly bent ready to attack. Nothing came forward.

"Fintan, we should attack first."

"No, fool. Whatever it is, it has the cover of darkness. Keep your blade upright by your face, in case of projectiles."

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Fintan ignored his own instruction and stepped forward with his blade, pointing it outward towards the line of trees that bordered the forest. The blade glowed brighter, and its light illuminated the way in front of him. He flashed the sword side to side, but nothing was near.

Fintan tucked his sword away back in its scabbard. His returned to his spot on a circular rock adjacent from where Vince was standing. Vince remained on high alert.

"Fintan, what are you doing? What if that thing is still there?"

"Calm down, young one. You're a jumpy one, aren't you? I saw nothing. There are certain to be weird beings in these mountains. We're on the fringes of the Carnakane deserts. Peculiar beings dwell here, especially at night."

Vince was able to accept that for a viable answer, and he settled himself down, but still remained sitting upright with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Relax there, little apprentice. Get some rest, I'll take first watch this time." Vince still sat staring.

"Quit eyeing me and get some rest before I follow through with the deal and make you take first watch." Fintan's words were aggressive now and Vine figured he'd better listen. He realized how tired he was from the day's trek. It had been one of the longest yet, but slow at the same time as it was following an army of a thousand. Vince felt uneasy settling down in his furs, but soon enough he was dreaming and snoring restfully. The stone returned to Fintan's hand, slightly smoother and rounder before from its small shaving.

Fintan waited a while and then disappeared into the forest. He was about a quarter of a mile through thick wood and brush when he felt a firm hand grip his right shoulder and he twirled with blinding speed and unsheathed his blade equally quickly. Two blades kissed and held firm at a crossroads.

A cold, icy voice emerged from underneath a cloak, "You were startled, yet you received my message. Surprising coming from a Magi Knight."

"I quite liked the red cloak. You look like a necromancer with that long robe of a cloak."

"A forager gathers garments where he can."

Fintan entered his weapon into its scabbard. "You been with the boy?"

"Yeah. He's imprisoned with Dalian Dagnar in the Carnakanes."

"His first test?"

"Yes. He's made friends. There's been a few incidents, but he'll be out soon."

Fintan matted down his straight, jet hair. Small beads of rain had begun falling from the sky, but the canopy of the leaves and trees overhead blocked out most of it. Occasional drops would make it onto the tops of the men's heads.

Randor Redcloak began, "How's this one doing?" He gestured over towards the where Fintan and Vince had been settled for the night.

"He's doing well. He's known for his whole life. He misses his father, but he doesn't need to know about that yet. He's got a lot of training to do."

"Fintan, I don't know if we have that kind of time. I've heard things from my time with Dalian Dagnar. Word spreads about Mestrane."

"It doesn't matter if we don't have time. We have to raise another generation of Magi the right way, the way we were taught how."

"Maybe we weren't taught correctly. Our way of the Magi has failed the realm. Look at how the war of the Last Kings turned out. The realm is in its most feeble state it's ever been in."

Fintan sighed. He dug his boot into a groove of mud while rain splattered off his head and onto his nose. The two knights threw their hoods up over their heads.

"Randor, we will do all we can. But it is fate for the realm. We live in an age that is absent of central leadership, of kings for goodness sakes. We either sit back, and we influence the flow of the continent from here. Or, we go out and we meet the shadows head on."

"With what army?"

"I thought that was why you were to infiltrate Dagnar and his men, is it not?"

"I was almost found out, Fintan. I had to run."

Fintan's voice grew louder, "and you couldn't bring the boy with you? He doesn't even know that you were supposed to be a mentor to him!"

Randor grew quiet and heaved a sigh. "You still got that stone?"

"Yeah. I wasted stone dust on you because you had to pretend like you were a Night Orc."

"I didn't make any noise, I thought you just saw me."

Fintan gave a laugh and nudged Randor on the arm. Randor wasn't amused.

"No, I'm serious. I didn't make a sound on the way up here."

Fintan and Randor exchanged glances and peered around nervously suddenly aware that someone, or something, could be listening.

Randor leaned in and whispered in a hushed tone, "Have you heard from any of the other Magi?"

"No, not since the night the temple was wrecked. You should go. Go back, find the boy. Egalo isn't it? Don't be fooled by Dagnar's wittiness, he's a clever man."

Randor nodded to Fintan and leaned in for a last word, "good luck brother. May the order of the realm lean in your favor. Teach the boy well."