The darkness of the night spread a gloom over the distant roads, only faintly lit by the moonlight. Usually, countless carriages would be driven through these routes in daylight, transferring goods and moving people from one town to another. During the night, however, riders could hardly find their way forward even with the proper light of lanterns at hand. The travel in dark implied a dangerous and long journey if one intended to walk on foot. For all of those reasons, passages past midnight rarely took place, and the silence kept its dominance over the sound of horses cantering along the flagstones of the roads.

However, tonight was an exception. A series of heavy, powerful clops pierced the silence, as countless number of distinct lights brightened the lengthy road, riders upon riders galloping their way through the hard surface of the routes, racing at a swift and unimaginable speed. For every twenty riders, one led their mount by one hand and had the other ablaze, omitting enough light to barely illuminate the path for the whole group, each of whom sit on a quality saddle and possessed helmets and armors that enticed attention and inspired awe in the first look.

At the front of this constantly-moving group of riders, which would take forever to get to starting from the end, a man in majestic-looking garments rode onward fiercely and furiously, leading forth the never-ending group of soldiers behind him. A rider, wearing a red mantle of silk, kept going alongside him, possessing the brightest fire in hand, burning so strong and ferocious that it would light up hundreds of feet ahead, yet the light did not dazzle the eyes of mounts and mounters nearby. The fire soothed the anxiety and exhaustion of the others the moment its light reached them.

From behind the head of the army, a man in rough black cloak came ahead, keeping up beside him. "Sir, I've come with reports on enemy's latest movements," he said, loud enough so the commander can hear it out despite the heavy clatter of hooves shaking the ground. "Go on," said the commander in a deep, rich voice, but impossible to clearly notice within the heavy hoofbeats. The man in black could only guess what the commander responded and hope for the best, "Their right wing has already started its separation from the main body, trying to put up an offensive formation in the east. Their left wing has advanced forth to the west. It seems they are planning a sandwich strategy once we pass the Forest of Sorrows and get to the Twin Mountains."

No intel could be more important than that in a war, if one already didn't expect it, that is. "So it seems their observers performed their duty well," said the commander, this time louder with a smirk on his face, "thanks to your special squad."

"Indeed, sir! But Knight Commander gives so much credit to humble me and my servants. They, and I, did as we should."

"The credit is well-deserved. This battle will be a decisive one, and if your squad hadn't hidden our true numbers, the plan would've failed, and it's not easy to constantly move, feed, and control the affairs of an army of knights this large for a long time."

The longer of a sentence the commander spoke, the harder he could recognize or put together what he says, so he would just keep listening and nod accordingly.

At the same time, in the back of the army, darkness began swallowing lights, as yells and cries of men and sounds of falling horses replaced the constant hoofbeats. The riders ahead looked back, seeing the fires being set off and die out while the darkness started getting closer and closer to them, the feelings of terror and fear intensifying among the army. Some turned left and right, exiting the road, followed by even more screams in the darkness, increasing the dread in the heart of those still on the path. Some just kept going forth faster to outspeed the surge of darkness, which kept coming from the back.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Those in the front failed to realized this fact. The huge length of the army was to blame, which delayed the transfer of fear and dread from back to the front. The pitch-black night had a huge impact too, making it more difficult to contact the distant section of the formation or notice irregularities from the frontline.

After hours upon hours of constant ride, as the army raced forth like how a dragon in flames would thrust into the darkness, the head of the army had finally reached the boundaries of Forest of Sorrows. "STOPP!" the commander shouted, and consequently, gallops of horses turned into lopes, lopes into trots, trots into walks, and walks into complete pause.

The sun still hadn't come up, which meant they had got there in time. The intended plan was highly dependent on the timing and hence the element of surprise in order to crush the two sections of the enemy's army in the east and the west.

The commander motioned to the man in black cloak, "We shall wait half an hour. Let the infantry catch up to the rear echelon." he said, riding right and left to examine the army, noticing less fires than anticipated. "It seems there is some trouble over there."

"Apparently," the man in black responded, "shall I send someone to go and see what's the problem?"

"Do so immediately," commander said. "Let the others also catch up then. When they're here, the army will be split into two parts, one going to the east of the forest and one to the west, hiding there while taking a rest. The infantry will move forward when they get here, playing as—"

A series of sudden sharp screams took him by surprise, coming from the back of the army. The horses began to startle, moving around intensely and getting out of control, including his own mount, throwing knights down to the earth. The commander stood up and walked aside. He could see the fires from the back of the formation get extinguished one by one, as the darkness thrust forth in a rapid pace.

Confusion and shock spread among the army, everyone frozen in their place. In that moment, the commander drew his sword, casting a spell to set it aflame. "Everyone! Stay on guard! Draw your swords and spears and set it on fire! Line up shoulder to shoulder around me and form a circle. Priests and mages move to the center as the knights encompass them!"

The commander ordered and the soldiers followed. "You," he called for the mage in red mantle, "create lights above us, so we may see what lurks in the shadows and resides within the darkness from afar."

The mage started casting a spell to generate a fire in the sky, far enough to not disturb the knights' eyes, but still close enough to provide a clear sight over the nearby land for the knights. As the casting finished, a huge fiery sphere appeared in the sky, as if sun had risen, and so did hope in the hearts of the soldiers. The darkness retreated and the others in the back joined the circular formation.

"It seems whatever lurks in there doesn't like the light," said the commander.

Not much passed until the fiery ball the mage had created started to grow dim, losing its heat and slowly being enclosed by darkness.

"What are you doing? Keep that thing up!" the commander yelled.

"I... I can't! Something is pressuring..." the mage responded, fainting on the ground.

The surroundings turned pitch-black again except for a bare ten feet away, brightened by the burning swords and spears. No one could see what's going to come out from the shadows with that vision.

"Hold your ground! Be ready for anything!"

The knights and mages stood their ground, preparing themselves to face the unknown enemy.