(Author's note: If you haven't read the first book of the series, I recommend you read that first.

(The Book of Heresy: http://royalroadl.com/fiction/3348))

Herklendir overlooks the sea as two ships are being prepared for a naval battle. The sun slowly starts to rise. It saddens him to see the horizon so empty as the great tower has fallen. The fishermen reported humans preparing ships to cross the sea from Lycar, a city founded by Lycon to transport troops to Oliron. Helara, the fishing village Herklendir is currently in, is the closest dock. Should the humans invade, they will surely cross to here.

The others in the council won't realise how dangerous humanity could be if they cross the straight, so Herklendir has decided to take matters into his own hands, but without the support of the other armies.

The Pentilian is divided into eleven parts. Each one of those parts has it's own leader. These leaders form the council. The leader is always the oldest in the higher circle. The higher circles provide advice for the current ruler and consist out of the eldest within the high ranking families. Each family has one member in the higher circle.

Next to the higher circle there is also the local priesthood, forming the core of the religious body. Each area is overseen by a priest who answer directly to the high priest.

Atop the hierarchy stands the head of the council. He is the oldest and wisest of all.

With the local priest absent, this is Herklendir's chance to take military action with the forces under his direct command as Herklendir is the oldest in this area. With 159 years of experience he is second in line for the place of head of the council.

"The ships are ready, sir." A Pentilian soldier running up to Herklendir says.

"Excellent!" Herklendir says, walking towards the soldier. "Let us get onboard, soldier."

Herklendir climbs onto one of the Pentilian ships. The ships are slightly larger than fishing boats and have a steel ram on the front. The ships aren't very high though, so there is no place to sleep onboard.

"Get rowing, Pentilians!" Herklendir yells after the soldier also climbed onboard. "We sail to Lycar!"

"Captain!" Harald yells, shouting through the wind. Harald is a middle sized man and is fairly thin. His brown hair shimmers with salty water. "How long before we reach the Pentilians?"

"We have hardly left port, mage!" The captain yells from the helm. "I suggest you sit back down. Let us sail the ship."

"I do not like your tone, captain!" Harald says. "I am disciple of the great Xandrien and mage of the realm, send here to start diplomatic relations with the Pentilians."

"Yes, and if you don't sit down, you'll keel over the railing with your magic." The captain says. "Besides I have heard you are the youngest of the disciples. Avon, could you help this gentleman find his seat."

"Sir." Avon says.

Avon is wearing a new set of armour developed by the workshop. Iron plates rest all across his body and an iron helmet with wings is placed on his head. The armour is covered in decorations as the workshop can never resist adding them.

Avon grabs Harald by the arm and drags him back to the benches. Harald tries to struggle, but he can't do anything to the strong man.

"Why are you even here, Avon?" Harald asks as he sits down.

"Fenwick told me to accompany you on this trip." Avon says. "Captain Morgan may be a good sailor, but if hostilities break out, you will need someone who knows combat."

"Why is he leading these four ships anyway?" Harald asks laying himself down on the bench.

"He is knows these waters better than anyone." Avon says."Besides these fishermen respect him. We are lucky to have a west wind."

The sun rises ahead of them. Harald looks past Avon, back at Oliron. A column of fire rises from the south of the island. Harald rushes to the back of the ship, closely followed by Avon.

"What are you up to now m..." Morgan begins, but as he turns around he sees the column of fire.

"What is that?" Avon wonders.

"Maybe one of the others?" Harald says. "Kelekter went south to help in the quarries."

"An explosion that big though..." Avon says, as he is slightly familiar with magic.

"Ship dead ahead!" The lookout yells.

"Ship?" Harald asks in surprise.

"Bring us in next to them!" Morgan yells, rotating the helm. "Fold the sails!"

The ships springs to life as sailors start slowing down the ship. Harald rushes to the front of the ship. In the distance two low ships row towards them.

The ships draw nearer and nearer, but still give no indication of lowering their speed. Harald can hear the rhythm now. A short humanoid creature stands in front of the rest yelling.

They are close now. Too close.

"They are planning to ram us!" Morgan yells. "Brace!"

Harald sees the metal reinforcing the fronts of their ships and realises their ship will never survive being rammed by them. Only one option is left to him. He raises his hands an focuses. He has never summoned interriftal energy in two places at the same time before, but he has to now. He slits two pieces off of his soul focusing on the two ships that are about to get rammed. The left ship changes course and heads straight for them.

The speed the ship has is insufficient to damage or break their ships and should they get rammed they would surely be boarded. So Harald focuses. Just before the ships collide, Harald opens a tear, causing interriftal energy to flow through. The ship lunges forward, completely shattering the metal guarding the front of the other ship. A loud crack fills the air as the other ships is slit in two because of the impact. The Pentilians are tossed through the air and land in the water. As they cannot swim they all soon drown. As the ship crashed into the other ship, the impact causes Harald to stumble forward. He used too much energy boosting both ships and was now powerless to save himself. He falls overboard into the deep blue sea. He sinks to the bottom, lacking the energy to even move.

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"Brace!" Morgan yells holding on to the helm tightly.

"I'm warning the men below deck." Avon says, sprinting to the stairs.

One hundred trained spearmen accompany them to assist during any potential hostilities. Most of the soldiers are below deck, so they aren't in the way of the sailors.

Seconds before impact the ship jolts forward, tossing Morgan away from the helm and he crashes into the back railing. Moments later the ship comes to a near full stop before Morgan has any chance to recover. He slides and rolls across the wooden surface. Splitters pierce his skin. He is stopped by the helm, smashing into the wood. Battered and brushed he lays there for a second before slowly climbing to his feet.

"Is everyone alright?" Morgan ask slowly.

No response.

"On your feet people!" Morgan yells. "We've got a ship to sail."

Some men climb back to their feet battered and shaken, but not hurt significantly. Others were not so fortunate. The lookout lies head first on the deck. His neck broken and the wood cracked.

Avon stumbles back up the stairs. Splinters cover his metal arm and blood is splattered across his arm.

"You alright, general?" Morgan asks.

"Not mine..." Avon mumbles walking up to the stairs. "I fell on one of my men. What was that speed increase just now?"

"Not sure, general, but it saved the ship." Morgan says. "Someone tell me bad the damage is! Could our little mage have caused it."

"Likely." Avon says. "Where is he?"

"He was at the front of the ship before impact." Morgan says. "Not sure where he is now though. Maybe..."

Morgan grows pale and starts walking to the side of the ship.

"Maybe what?" Avon asks, following him.

Concern fills Morgan's face as he stares into the deep waters below.

"Maybe he fell in..." Morgan mumbles.

"But the boy can swim!" Avon says. "He should have surfaced if he fell in. There must be something else that happened."

"When a ships sinks it drags down anyone above it." Morgan says. "He could have followed those Pentilians down to the bottom and we would be none the wiser."

"But he could still be on he ship." Avon says full of hope. "He could have simply been tossed around, just like we were."

"We have both seen the deck, haven't we." Morgan says. "Tell me, general, did you see Harald anywhere? Anywhere at all?"

"No..." Avon says slowly. "But we need him to negotiate! Without him we cannot continue this mission."

"The time for negotiations is over, general." Morgan says. "We will press on, so we may use the advantage Harald sacrificed himself for to its fullest."

"Captain!" A sailor yells. "The ship is still operational, but she's making water, sir! If we do not dock soon, we will still sink."

"No turning back now." Morgan says. "Full sail! We will dock at Helara!"

Wounded sailors pick themselves up, preparing to return life to the ship. The sail drops again and fills with air. Slowly the ship starts to move. Soon all four ships are sailing at full speed again.

The longer the ships sails, the lower it sinks into the water and the slower it gets. Helara comes into clear few slowly, but Morgan still worries. Will his ship make it to the docks?

A loud crack fills the air. The second ship that was hit, the ship right of Morgan's, slows down drastically as the entire front section plummets into the water. The front leans deeper and deeper into the water.

"Get clear of the ship!" Morgan yells to all captains. "If we stay to close we will be dragged down as well! Gallat, keep your ship close enough to rescue the survivor after the danger passes. Our ship won't stay afloat too much longer!"

"Yes, captain!" Gallat yells from the ship on Morgan's left.

Two ships continue as panicked and confused men abandon ship behind them. The yelling and screaming of those incapable of swimming can be heard for miles.

"One hundred of my men are on that ship." Avon says. "Do you truly think we can invade a continent with just two hundred men spread across these two ships."

"If we don't press the advantage now, general, I am certain they will strengthen their naval defences. This is our best shot at taking Helara." Morgan says. "Two hundred men and a little over a hundred reinforcements should be enough to take the port at this time."

"I'll get ready." Avon says coldly as he walks to the stairs. "Warn me before we dock. I'll bring the men up."

"Let's keep this boat floating, men!" Morgan yells.

The ship continues to slowly sink into the ocean as the beaches draw near.