"So why did we leave from Weptswur in the first place? We came all this way to visit a crumbled Magi temple, master. Now we head all the way back across Ulthrak?"

Fintan and Vince led the way as they spoke, the Ulthraki were on foot behind them, trudging along in the cold wind.

"I believed that I would have to start in the north to assemble an army, and to find the rest of the Magi Order. We are too late, Vince. We failed to recognize how soon Mestrane's armies were to rise when we shadowed Randor in the Carnakanes."

"What is of Randor now?"

"The last we had seen; he was taken by the army of Raideth that was headed for Mestrane. A grave mistake on their part, for they are blinded by their desire for the plunder of the land. Where there once was paradise for those accepted beyond the meadows, is now full of dread and darkness."

"What is to account for that change, master?"

"It is believed the last army to try to gain acceptance into those lands mistakenly slayed the White King of the meadows—The Maldur King. The curse was lifted, and now Modena is in grave danger."

"We should just go to Mestrane now. We are strong enough; we can sneak into the high towers of that land and slay their new King and end this."

Fintan was already shaking his, "No, Vince, it is not that simple. King Steed obtains much more power from the dark forces that lurk in those lands than anything that you or I have received from the Ertorin stones."

Vince felt bitter towards Fintan now, "I'm sick of that, master. We must have confidence in our abilities as Magi. You said it yourself, the Order has crumbled. If we don't uphold the standard, then what separates us from mortal men?"

"Is that what it is about for you, Vince? The status and the power of a Magi? Our duty is to serve and protect this realm, and the power that comes from the stone is simply a vessel through which can do that—"

"—Fintan you know what I mean—"

"—the desires of your heart must be examined, Vince. I am following the message that I received from the Creator when I connected with him in the Magi temple. You cannot reason your basis off your own feelings."

"I respect your reasonings master, but I still think we can bypass Weptswur's leadership and go straight into Mestrane. Randor is probably held captive there now anyways. Once we free him, the three of us is more than enough to take out the stronghold."

"It is much more complicated than that. Even if we were to make it into the stronghold of that land, there is an army marching north to attack Weptswur either way. We must defend first and preserve the land we still have."

Vince was quiet now. In his mind, he knew what he desired. Fintan was by the book, and his views would not change even if the world around him was. His own mind was young and fresh, and he had seen for himself the very perspective of the enemy they were up against. It reminded him; he became dizzy. He stepped aside as they walked, falling to his knees and retching. Edna hurried out from behind the Ulthrakis around her and wrapped her tentative arms around him.

Magnar the Madman hurried his pace to walk beside Fintan now.

"What's wrong with the boy?"

"Nothing, he's fine. He's just adjusting to the responsibility that comes with being a Magi Knight."

"What makes you a knight? Or even a Magi? I have not seen you perform magic, nor have I seen you lead a line into battle."

The two walked in stride still, the cloudy sky hanging over the long plains of Ulthrak as they trudged.

"The magic should remain unseen to the untrained human eye, but it is no 'magic'. There are abilities gifted to a Magi Knight through his chosen medium. As for being considered a knight, it is the greater responsibility of a Magi Knight to fight for what is right to him—guided by his connection to the great Creator—that is, a God in which is very much real yet your kind neglects to believe in."

Magnar let out a hoarse chuckle now, "Very well, Fintan. I am disgusted by your reasoning; you have no business dealing in the affairs of others. However, our desires line up. I am thirsty for the blood of the one responsible for that attack. Yet, I can't help but feel that you are partially responsible for leading us into that 'trap' if you will, Magi. I was simply repaying a favor by offering my support, and I think we more than fulfilled that by sacrificing some of my best men while you had your peaceful prayer time in that temple of yours. Consider my services to be a surplus for now."

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"As you wish, Magnar. I cannot stop you if you wish to pull away and remain in Ulthrak. However, if Weptswur were to fall, your lands would be next."

"Then Weptswur shall not fall. But know this, Magi, if Weptswur falls, and you are still alive when it is done, I will not hesitate to hack you down along with all of the bodies of orcs that will be piled on top of you. I don't value the life of a Magi."

Fintan allowed Magnar to spill on him. It was expected, especially after losing men. He was hurt, he knew, and he needed someone to blame. He only hoped that Magnar would use that fire in his belly when it came time to defend the walls of Weptswur.

"Your support leaves us in debt to you Magnar, without a doubt. But do not test me whilst we are on the same side. I likewise will not hesitate to put an end to the man that I find a threat to my well-being."

"Fair enough, Magi."

On and on they walked. Without horseback, the journey was was thrice as long as otherwise. Some of the women backed out once they arrived in Ulthrak, as many of the children were unlikely candidates to survive the journey. In the end, it was Magnar and thirty of his men who carried on. Vince had forced Edna to stay behind with the other women, promising he would return afterwards.

Vince returned to the front of the line of weary men. The sun had set and now all warmth that had remained from the daylight had left.

"What is to be expected of Weptswur? We cannot simply stroll in and take control, can we?"

"It will be difficult, but if we can get across the magnitude of the threat we are dealing with, the leadership should be sensible. The land is known to be the pride of Modena, so we should treat their leaders with respect, and ensure them that the power resides in their hands, not ours. Otherwise we may be turned away, regardless of the truth of the matter."

"I heard word from one of the Ulthrakis that the people of Weptswur are snobby pricks, is there truth to that?"

"Watch your tongue, young one. You must not repeat foolish words you hear. They are a prideful bunch, and they have done well as a people even after the war. One of their strongest warriors was appointed King since they lost their king and his heirs were little boys who had just learned to speak. I have heard that he is hard-headed, and his council is a rowdy bunch of loyalists who benefit off heavy taxes. They are wealthy nation for sure, and they should have strong defenses."

"We shall see how those defenses withstand the army to come. They would be foolish to be complacent even with a strong military. How strong is their central kingdom?"

"You ask too many questions. We shall see when we arrive. I'm going to say it is a bigger castle than you have ever seen. What you saw when we visited Gerd was considered a slum of Weptswur, and you saw how wealthy even that population was."

Vince felt it again, an uncontrollable urge that rose in his chest when he heard that name. He was dead, but he didn't know if it was him who did it. He remembered in his head, stabbing, twisting. It felt so right yet so wrong. He decided he had merely been a spectator, but his gut told him that it was more than that.

His fingers met the top of his hilt and he was suddenly in a new land. He could not feel the weight of the body he was in, but he knew it was not his. He stood at the very top of the tallest tower he had ever seen. Spikes all around the top of the tower contained him at its upmost floor. The sky was full of black clouds and the skies roared in rage.

Is that a dragon? The odd reptilian creature flew up to the side of the tower and he leapt onto its back. He held his palms in front of him and he saw talons. His shoulders were broader than a normal man. His skin was rotted but it was rigid and tough. The creature let out a terrible squeal and down towards the ground they swept. Down below an army marched in place and midway down the tower stretched a platform. He knew the man who stood upon it somehow. It was King Steed. His dragon's sleek black body filled so much of the sky that the light that had illuminated the army was gone, and the army of Deranged Men and orcs stood in darkness, but their voices and their marches filled the air with cheers of war cries.

He stood upon the back of the dragon, having never felt so alive. He realized he had many limbs, and he held two spears and two blades among them. His blades blurred a bright hue of red like a blade of fire. He raised his weapons in the air and kicked at the back of the dragon's neck and it reared its gigantic fanged mouth and snorted a blanket of saliva and poison through the air, disintegrating before it even reached the ground.

King Steed called to him as he spoke, "The land which belongs to us, will be returned to us. Ral'tor shall lead this army to pass the great meadows of Mestrane and into the realm of mortal men, where weak armies shy at our presence. A world shattered by war and death will accept its capture or it will die in an attempt to resist." The orcs and Deranged Men let out cries of support that resembled anything but human. Vince raised his limbs in the air and shuttered at the faces of deformed men that shouted from below him.

He could feel a stare and it prodded at him like the butt of a spear. He glanced dreadfully towards the platform and staring incredulously right at him was King Steed. He stared right through him, as if he could see everything inside his head, inside his heart. He could not hide; the dragon flew nearer and nearer to the King of Mestrane. The dragon reared its head, and Vince's felt all six of his limbs lose its grip to its course, scaly mane and he was falling.