The Ulthrakis grudgingly waited outside. Fintan and Vince ascended the steps of what was once the beautiful Magi Temple. Inside the great hall led to the famous room at the end of its passageway. Fintan opened the door and put his stone to the notch in the wall that was the perfect fit for the shape of the stone. Vince watched as the stone glowed an intense hue, immersing itself beautifully into the nook of the wall. Other notches were spread along the wall all around the room either glowed fluorescently blue or red. Others calcified into a gray stone, filling the notch in the wall.

"What does that mean?"

"The blue means that the Magi whose stone belongs there is still alive and following the will of the Creator. The red means that the Magi has turned to dark ways and is no longer under the will of the Creator. The calcified, gray stone means that the Magi Knight no longer lives, and his stone is likely missing."

Vince moved closer to the markings in the wall and observed how most glowed blue, some red, and a few held a dull rock in its place. Writing in a language Vince could not understand was filled in above each notch in the wall.

"Who is to meet us here?"

"Anyone who received my message should arrive or will at least respond within a day's time through the energy of their stone."

"What if somehow someone who has turned to dark magic shows up?"

"Well that would be most unfortunate, now wouldn't it?"

"Master you mustn't need always speak down to me. I would like to know these things without your snide tone."

Fintan nodded his head; his lips formed a smug look.

"Where did all of these Magi go, Fintan? There are plenty of markings to suggest clean magic Magi Knights are out there."

"Many fled after the war. They fled to other continents. Some want nothing to do with the Order but hold on to their stone because they cannot part themselves from it."

Vince didn't feel as though that had satisfied his answer. How could so many of them simply flee? That went against all they had learned from traditional Magi Order rules.

He glanced around the room and realized the room was almost like a cavernous space, like the inside of a hollow rock. Centrally in the room was a long table spanning the length of the room. There were many seats gathered around the table, but only dust and crumbled rock from the ceiling now filled the seats. Vince walked towards the table, imagining what the space looked like when all the seats were filled when the temple was at its peak. Vince glanced at the chairs and noticed markings on the top of the chairs, names actually. Beautiful mosaics lined the walls of scenes depicting fallen heroes and legends of men he had grown up hearing about. His mouth gaped in awe at one particular mosaic that showed a man with his sword raised to the sky, as lightening flickered from the tip of his sword and met the mouth of a black dragon with teeth as sharp as a thousand blades. Vince noted the stark contrast of the blue and yellow lightening meeting the red flames of the fire that protruded from the dragon's mouth.

Vince walked down the row of chairs and the read the names on the chairs; Ryman, Zakar, Cadon, Fintan, Byron, Joro, Crado, Abimelek, Randor, Mavrion, Master Eldmar, Master Lorond...Gerd. The name sent shocks through him. The name had been faded on the back of the chair, as if old and weathered; he must have been departed from the Order for quite some time before the rest of them. The top seat at the table read Magi Master Sotu. Vince turned back to Fintan, who had pushed his stone into the groove in the wall and it glowed brightly. Fintan whispered something in the language of the Magi and from the glow of the rock came a visual. It was a visual of a man who appeared to be travelling down a sloped hill through a rainy forest. He did not seem to know he was being watched as he traveled. Fintan watched and talked into the projection in that unknown tongue. Vince watched closely as the figure in the image stopped climbing the slope to look into his stone that had been hidden within his furs.

Fintan shouted over the sound of the busy rain hitting leaves and debris within the forest that Master Eldmar traversed, "Master Eldmar, how pleasing to see you. I have not heard from any of the Magi since the fall of the temple. Where are you?"

The man named Master Eldmar seemed to be in some hurry to get wherever he was going. Shouting could be heard from behind him.

"I am not in Modena anymore, I travelled to a faraway continent called Keyhor. What brings this call, Fintan? I am in a bit of a hurry."

"Well I mean the realm is in disarray, at least here in Modena. Why would you leave? Many of the Magi have deserted or turned to dark magic and decided to use the stone for themselves. You are the only one I could get a hold of, I urge you to return to Modena, we need as many Magi now as we ever have."

Master Eldmar dodged a flurry of arrows that went streaming over his head wildly.

"Fintan, I know things are tough. Stick to the Magi code and you will be fine. I am in search of someone who I think can turn things around for the whole continent of Modena. Just hold tight for now and I'll be back as soon as I can."

The chaos surrounding Master Eldmar caused the image to become fuzzy, and soon it fizzled out. Vince stood silently, but something troubled him now. He felt the sword in its scabbard become heavy, it was like a burden suddenly. He grasped the hilt and withdrew it now. He felt his hands become secure around the hilt, and suddenly he felt light as a feather, and every action and every movement felt right. But then the sharp pain in his head, it almost knocked him down flat. He groaned.

"Vince, what is it? What troubles you now?"

"I cannot say now. I have a bad feeling though. Something is coming for us."

"What do you mean? How do you know this?"

Vince put two fingers to his forehead and scrunched his face, "I can feel it. I just have this feeling. The sword wants me to use it."

Suddenly Vince was journeying under a hazy sky in a massive legion of an army. He led the way. To either side trotted ugly, scalped heads and obscene faces of orc men. Both his hands bore a small sword. To his right, an orc walked with sharpened blades instead of arms and hands. Vince felt in full control, but he realized wanted to complete the mission—somehow, he knew what it was. The orcs followed his lead. Down below the wood line was a clearing and in the clearing was the Magi Temple. It appeared completely deserted from the outside. Debris littered the ground around it. Down towards the building they trotted, he felt his stringy hair lay down upon his broad shoulders. He looked to the orc beside him whose eyes sunk into his head, and his pupils were a small dot in large white spheres. He returned a glance and Vince almost forgot for a moment he was an orc.

By the Magi Temple stood a congregated group of Vikings. One of the men walked towards them by the wood line to relieve himself. The orcs crouched quietly in the woods, mere feet from where he stood. Vince realized it was on his command. He stepped out of his spot and just as he did, his eyes met the Viking, and he saw the Viking's eyes widen as far as they could. Before any sound emitted from his mouth, Vince gutted him with a crude blade in his right hand. He pushed the body off of his blade with his other sword. His body clangored to the ground and suddenly another Viking spotted the dead man. Vince opened his throat and released a blood-curdling yell from deep within his chest as he raised his blood-dripping blade to the sky.

"Orcs! Men from the dark lands!" Chaos erupted, the Viking's wives made a dash for the door to the Magi Temple, but it was bolted shut—an Ertorin stone was required to open it. The women stood with their children, pounding on the door, begging for the door to be opened. Magnar emerged from the group to meet the orcs at the front lines of his men, his face fiery and fierce as ever. For once, his eyes appeared wide open and his face exuded contempt. His sidemen gathered to his side. Nearby was Poku and his men. Together they formed two lines of barbarians. They held their shields out with their right arm, axes poised in the other hand for the kill. Vince let out a chilling scream and into the men he clattered. His crude metal blade hacked down an Ulthraki, and then another. Poku came at him with all he had. He swept through the torsos of two orcs right before he got to Vince. Vince knew this was his chance. It was the perfect opportunity to get to Poku. Their blades kissed and Vince hissed at the barbarian. Poku yelled something but Vince couldn't decipher it over the sound of steel clamoring on steel. To his left, the orcs began to outnumber the Ulthrakis. The Ulthrakis were mighty and strong, brave until the death. Yet, the orcs knew no fear, and they were bred with one mission—to kill and expand.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Poku deflected desperately as Vince's orc attacked skillfully. Another orc came to his aid and sideswiped Poku, sending him to the ground. Vince stepped on his chest and planted his blade straight through his chest. He quickly withdrew his steel from Poku and planted his blade into another Ulthraki and he yelled a horrible cry.

Vince's head perked up when he heard it, and suddenly he was sick. It was Edna's cry. She was one of the women standing by the door to the temple desperate to get inside.

Vince expelled a heavy breath and suddenly struggled to regain his breathing.

"Fintan! Quick, there is trouble outside. I know it, I saw it!"

"What do you mean? Vince, these walls are sound proof there's no way you can hear anything from out there. It's just the humming of the stones."

Fintan was already following Vince up the stairs, however. Vince made his way to the front door and busted it open, and in came swarming Ulthraki women and children.

Vince darted outside and paused on the steps outside, in front of him stood the orc he had morphed into. He knew it was him. The two of them locked gazes and Vince became horrified. That hadn't actually been him, had it? He cannot be responsible for what happened. Vince charged at him, but the orc had expert control of both of his blades. One of them swung wildly to keep Vince from having an entry point to attack. The other hand remained coordinated and concise, stabbing at his weak spots and Vince deflected desperately with Gerd's former blade. Fintan had moved away to his right to cut down a stream of orcs that had broken the line from the lead of the head orc and were making a break for the open door of the temple. Fintan cut down the first two and gutted a third. The fourth gave him small trouble, parrying twice and swiping his own blow. Fintan decapitated an arm that had merely been a weapon for a limb, before swiping his heavy blade across his neck, toppling the head to the ground.

Fintan ran to Magnar the Madman's side, and together the two cut down many of the defile creatures that stood before them. Vince battled away at the orc, but they both knew the other's every move. It was a stalemate, but Vince could feel his strength starting to falter. Vince couldn't look for more than a second, but the numbers for both sides were dwindling. At least Edna was safe, and the other children, he hoped.

Vince pressed his thumb into the stone that was melted into the hilt he grasped. He felt his emotions become his strength. He became bitter, angry. He was always controlled, but now he was in control. He became seething with rage, remembering how he had killed Gerd, although he didn't know If it was actually himself who had done it. He chopped aggressively, sending the creature backwards and backwards. He yelled at the creature as he advanced. His arms were full of power and strength now, a strength he had never known before. Vince withdrew a dagger from his belt as he continued his strokes upon the orc. He caught the orc in a vulnerable position, attempting to block a high stroke, and Vince launched the dagger, landing in the chest of the orc. Vince's next stroke with the great sword came down on his head, and the orc fell to the ground, finished. Black blood oozed from his sliced head. Vince knelt, out of breath, he was spent. An orc approached him from his right, but Vince saw Magnar coming from behind. The orc paused to line up a calculated strike, but Magnar's axe slammed down on his skull and the orc toppled violently beside him.

The apprentice sheathed his sword and picked up the dagger from where it had found the orc's chest. He hurried inside the temple to ensure Edna was okay. She was huddled upstairs with the other women, crying but entirely comforted to see Vince alive. Vince pulled her close and ran his fingers through her long, tangled hair as they embraced.

Fintan assessed the damage that had been done. The orc's bodies littered the ground. Quite a few Ulthraki bodies were littered in with them. About ten Ulthrakis in all had lost their lives. Fintan noticed Poku among them, and a couple of his men. Magnar was distraught, not to the surprise of Fintan. Magnar cried out loudly, yelling at his gods. This was his family, and they had been ransacked by surprise. Cut down by foul creatures without warning. Fintan did not see Vince amongst those who stood bloodied and tired. Fintan glanced to the temple doors, realization dawning.

An hour had passed now, and the Ulthrakis were welcomed into the temple. The doors were barred shut, and Fintan found solace in the underground room again by the humming of his stone that he returned to its place in the wall. He went into prayer, and eventually he was in tune with the Creator, his shoulders dropped, and his body felt at ease. Vince finished lathering Edna with kisses, and he lolled her to sleep, ensuring her he would be back in a few minutes. Vince went downstairs to the common area where Ulthraki men hung their heads and lay slumped against the walls. Others hugged crying spouses or wives of men who had been slain viciously by the herd of orcs. Some whispered anxiously, discussing what had just happened, and where those creatures had come from. The usual why us questions, Vince assumed.

He knew where he would find Fintan, so he went down to him. He found Fintan in silent communion with the Creator. He was so in sync that he did not notice Vince's entry. Vince walked to the chair that red Fintan on the top. He pulled it out and sat. His mind remained haunted. First the Gerd incident, now this. This was by far more vivid, more real. He was in full control of those actions, but to him it felt right. It felt like there were no other options than to kill.

Vince almost jumped when Fintan spoke, "You fought valiantly, Vince. It was no easy task to clear out the one that you killed. You are growing to bond with that sword. That bond will grow, the more it is needed by you."

Vince was hysterical, "Fintan! What was that? That came from nowhere!"

"Calm, my apprentice. We must accept what happened and take what we can from it. We know now that the enemy draws closer, nearer. That was only a small taste of the enemy before us."

"So now what? We go tell Magnar we're sorry but that we have to keep moving?"

"Magnar and his men will only know one way to respond, that is to kill and avenge the death of their friends. If anything, they are bought in now. They are sworn to the mission."

Vince accepted the point. But it bugged him, he knew he had to ask, but what then? If Fintan knew he felt responsible for a large part of that skirmish, would he abandon him? Worse yet, kill him?

He decided to keep to himself. The less Fintan knew, the better. At least for now.

"Master, what do we do now? I'm ready to fight. I'm thirsty for blood now, Fintan. Our men were killed."

"Our men, Vince? Those are men working for us, but they are not our men. Ulthrakis will not hesitate to turn on you, if not shown the proper respect. Let me handle the communication with Magnar. I think you have seen enough blood shed for a time."

Vince kept his mouth shut. The wall of Ertorin stones shone brightly. He wondered who the red stones belonged to and who they were. He thought of all the names he read in the seats of the Magi Order table. Will I end up being one of them? A user of dark magic? Vince decided the less he thought of it, the less it was true.

Fintan began to speak but Vince wished not to listen. He was becoming tired of always listening to Fintan. He needed his own path; he had the sword now. What was to stop him from deviating from this fallen Magi Order and making his own path? Master Eldmar seemed to already have done that.

"I think once the Ulthrakis have pulled together from the tragedy of this attack, we will journey back south to Weptswur. If they choose to join us, they will be welcome companions for the road. If not, we will make better time, and Weptswur must become a fortress. Its border is the first line of defense between Mestrane and the rest of the realm. We must contact neighboring nation Perorg as well. I have seen visions through the stone's mist of a large army of Deranged Men, travelling in formation for battle through the Carnakanes. Their arrival upon Weptswur is imminent, and we cannot afford to lose that stronghold."

"More orcs? Than what was that attack just now? A decoy?"

"No, my apprentice. Those things you saw today—those were orcs. What comes in a swarm for Weptswur—those are Deranged Men. Far more advanced and intelligent than the orc—Deranged Men are men who were placed under the curse of Mestrane, but now that they are returned and lifted their bodily form remains cursed, but they are free to do as they wish."

Vince shook his head, "That's terrible. How can such foul beings exist in this realm?"

"I don't know Vince. But I do know this, once we hold Weptswur, we're coming for Mestrane, and I intend to have every nation and every helping hand we can from the north to the south, the east to the west, and every place in between to help us do it."

Vince nodded, but inwardly he feared. He had taken his sword wrongfully, and for that it had become an instrument of dark magic. But secretly, he found he liked it. It gave him power, and power he had lacked in all of his days he could remember.