The silence between him and his mentor Luthor has remained unbroken for many moments, and as they rode further, as if by a magic spell, his mentor spoke almost as if he could read his thoughts:

"Wolves are hungry because the Urgluns hunted the forests empty; the elk and deer are gone, and the only food that they can hope to find is now humans.

The scouts report many altars upon which the ur'glun's cursed kin lay the remains of the men that fell to their hands, remains of their bones and their skinned bodies, only to feed the wolves and give them the taste of human flesh."

The aging mentor stopped for a moment and then continued:

"It's an ominous sight to behold, for I have seen some for myself, many mangled bodies hanging upon the trees, their flesh torn by the beast as far as they can reach, and many more remains scattered on the floor; their lifeless eyes don't do justice to their torment, their gaze like they are waiting for the salvation that would never come to their rescue, and what remains of their existence was already condemned to hopeless suffering, a horrible way to end a life."

"So why would they do such a thing?“ Young Eldon replied.

"Wolves don't only go after the men; once the forests are depleted, they go after the cattle; they cause famine and death, and Ur'gluns only come to collect the rest.“

It was clear for the young acolyte that the best times for mankind are slowly coming to an end. The times are changing, and for the worse. To think that the future depends on him would not only be a burden but also a hopeless dream, and reality was much different than that.

As he rode through the night, he could hear the autumn leaves with every step of his horse, and he could feel the breeze of the coming winter. He could smell it in the wind and the fog. All that he could get to his mind was the words from the superstitions that came from the distant north, where mankind is less sophisticated, the winters are longer, and the frosts are sharper, while the city walls are way thinner. Yet the dark superstitions from the distant north reminded him of the reality he faces right now and of the times that are coming; they were simply known as the wolf's winter.

"If we continue at this pace, we will reach the ruins of Lindenrow by sunrise,“ said Luthor as he continued riding.

"That means we will be going through the Weeping Woods?“ Asked the young acolyte, with his eyes wide open and his voice unsteady.

"Yes.“ The answer from his mentor was serious and cold.

"Hasn't that path become dangerous ever since the Ur'glun tribes have united?“ The acolyte thought, remembering the atrocities that happened during the fall of Lindenrow.

"Ur'gluns are nocturnal; that is why we hope to pass through their territory during the day, while they are the least active; chances of encountering them are relatively low.“ As the duo rode through the dense woods, the forest around them slowly changed into a misty moor, and the skies above them were dark and full of stars that swarmed around the full circle of the moon.

As his horse galloped, Eldon took a bite of ember root that he had earlier prepared to keep him awake. It had a strong earthy yet spicy flavor, and it was bitter and hard to chew, yet it helped to ward off tiredness.

The young acolyte looked at the stars and remembered the old stories and the marching songs that often portrayed them as the fallen heroes of mankind. Certainly there were many, yet he thought, maybe one day he will have his own star in the night sky among the others.

As he spent some time in his thoughts, he could see a dim glow at the horizon in the east towards the kingdom's heartland, the first lights of the coming dawn. He could also see a large star appear in the east, and it was Nogryl, the morning star.

The stories say that by the time Nogryl appears in the sky, the creatures of night start fleeing to their dens before the sunrise, and it is when night changes into the day, so the sight filled him with hope and the feeling of safety.

Yet the morning mist still lingered, and he could see many shapes of men standing in the fog, in straight lines, and holding spears. He knew that those are the mistwraiths of Oxendell, a field where two great battles happened, many years apart.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He looked closely at them; he knew that they could not see him, for they were only the remnants of the past, but as he looked closely, and as the breeze blew, carrying the mist, it formed into a larger shape, resembling a troll.

The journey went on, and the night slowly turned into a day, as the two riders were approaching the woodland, earlier known as Oldwood, now named the Weeping Woods.

"If you look towards the woods, you can see the remains of Lindenrow in the distance.“ Luthor spoke and grasped his reins tightly. It was clear that the uncertainty had filled the air as the duo slowly entered the Weeping Woods.

The woodland became thicker and denser with each step, and the canopies of the trees barely let any light pass. A heavy presence could be felt in the forest, and it was unlike the presence of night fae from Duskmoor; this one was much more sinister and dreadful.

Luthor seemed to be extremely careful while riding through those woods, and Eldon did not like that even the slightest bit. Even the horses themselves looked frightened, but they went on.

"Can you hear them in the distance?“ The old mentor asked, and indeed Eldon could. He could hear the echoing shrieks and weeps that seemed to be just humanlike enough to be even more unsettling than those of the common beasts.

"They found us.“ Luthor spoke and leaned forward in his saddle, and his horse started galloping faster, and the other one followed. The cries and screams were coming closer. Eldon felt a rush of adrenaline while his horse sped through the woods and he dodged branches ahead of him.

The howls were approaching, and there were many.

Soon enough, he spotted one of them on a nearby branch: a gray goblinoid about the size of a child, with long ears, orange eyes, and many black stumps on his skin. He let out a terrifying shriek, and its teeth were sharp, rotten, and snaggled, and a black ooze poured down from its mouth. The riders were chased by a pack of Ur'gluns and their wolves, starved and monstrous, with their eyes bulging, and their teeth aching and drooling for a prey.

As they rode, many arrows missed them by a hair's width and pelted the nearby trees and branches. The horses were much faster than the Ur'gluns that chased them, and they left them behind, yet it was unclear if more of them would be encountered throughout their ride, so they could not stop even for a second.

The forest divided the kingdom into two parts, and there was no going back. Their first stop will be Aerinthorn, the plagued land that they were going after, yet a long journey was still ahead. As they kept riding, the morning slowly turned into the noon, and it was very rare to see an urglun in that time of the day, yet the group remained cautious.

As they continued their long journey through the woodlands, the evening was slowly setting, and the horses were already tired, but to their luck, the woodland seemed to disappear before them as they left it behind and entered Aerinthorn.

It was a large valley surrounded by the mountains with many hills in it, and the canopies of the trees were red like the autumn. There were roads that went between the hills, and they were surrounded by thorns and a wattle fence, and in the distance they could see a village with a wooden wall around it. Even the air around the village seemed to be heavy and filled with an ominous feeling; the riders felt almost as if they were being watched from every bush by some hidden, unseen eyes. Braving the eerie feeling, they rode down the road towards the village, and as they approached, they saw a large wooden gate and a wooden tower next to it. It did not take long for a guard to spot them from the top of the tower.

"Hey there! Stop!" The guard yelled and leaned against the wooden fence on top of the tower.

"We are the witch-hunters; open the gate," Luthor replied.

"Not so fast! Do you have any proof of it besides the dark coat?" The guard yelled, and soon after, he looked into the distance, instantly changing his attitude.

"Open the gate!" The guard ordered, and the gate was slowly opened by the rest of the guards.

Luthor looked behind and saw a torchlight in the fog, and he could hear the sound of many steps coming from that direction.