The journey to Lumoria began in the dusk, with the deep colors of sunset still gloaming in the sky. The villagers were to assemble and watch as Aliga's large bat opened up its wings for the long flight ahead. Its fur shone back in the failing light of day, and its wings a great stretch of shadowy enough to bear them all stretched out like dark shadows of suede. Huddled beneath, in silence, were the villagers to view their protectors soar up into the sky.
Aliga sat at the head of the bat, and the others trailed behind her, not questioning what she had said. Backward came the two guards, never taking their eyes off of Howard, whose wrists were strongly bound to the back of the bat by ropes that would make even the smallest opportunity for escape impossible. Fidgeting and glancing first between the guards and then Aliga's still face, he was uncomfortable. She unsettled him, but he was used to her mysterious ways. This trip was different, though. There was a tension hovering low over the air, unsaid but almost perceptible.
Silently, the bat flew through the sky with enormous wing beats over the wind. Down, in a blur of trees and rivers and distant mountains, went the floor. The landscape was familiar when they first started, now, with the deeper travel into an unknown land, it had suddenly become foreign.
For hours they rode in silence as the bitter wind clawed at their skin. Howard tried to keep warm; bound hands made it not easy to shift his cloak properly. He kept having flashbacks over the events that led him to this: tied down, observed, and completely helpless. Each time he glanced toward Aliga, she was calm, composed, and completely absorbed in guiding her bat. Her movements were precise, and she only spoke a few words.
One moment, he thought she dropped something, small, shimmering, her hand let loose something and it slid away into the dark below in the forest. He furrowed his brow, then dismissed it. Aliga was always doing such odd things, rituals, or practices that nobody seemed to understand. Her behavior was mystical, obscure. That was nothing new. Perhaps this is only another one of the peculiarities of Aliga. He was at no place to question her.
As night deepened and the temperature grew chill, Aliga spoke at last. "We'll camp for the night,
She pointed the bat into a dense forest below, this time not looking for an opening through which to pass. The bat flew instead through the canopy, its wings deftly steering through thick branches. The trees here were huge, sentinels that stood over the ground for centuries, their trunks so wide that even the bat could lie amongst them.
We camp in the trees," Aliga instructed. "The ground's too dangerous. There are creatures down there that hunt anything that touches the ground below.".
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The group exchanged uneasy glances but did as they were told. They unstrapped one by one from the bat and climbed up onto the thick branches of the nearby trees. The branches were large enough to hold them, and Aliga's bat folded his wings, settling silently like some pale sentinel among the branches. It was unsettling to be so high above the ground, but even that was less frightening than what was waiting for them down there.
Howard, still bound hand and foot, was set firmly down on one of the wider branches. His guards were stood just nearby, their eyes alert and watchful over him. The campfire was replaced by small, glowing stones Aliga had brought with her to use for lighting-illuminating the area without attracting unwanted attention from below.
The night was still, but the tension hung in the air. Aliga roamed through the branches, checking the ropes to make sure everyone was securely settled. Her stride was calculated, elegant, and delicate. She hardly spoke, only when she had to. Howard glanced at her one last time, trying to comprehend her behavior, but soon put it aside. Aliga was always a mystery, and this too was nothing different.
As the group settled in for the night, the roster for the watch was determined. At any one time, one person would be awake scanning the dark horizon for movement down on the ground or up in the sky. Howard's guards took their turns first, eyes that darted back and forth between the shadowy outlines and him.
Night noises were unsettling, scratching leaves howls far off, and an occasional guttural growl of things below. Yet this discomfort was offset by an odd feeling of security within the trees. Nothing on the ground could reach them here, and if something wanted to fly too close, the bat's presence stayed with them.
Hours passed and Howard's mind started wandering again. He thought about the village, the elders who seemed to have been staring at him with a sense of vengeance, and Aliga, unusual as she was with actions unlike during other travels. Is she hiding something? Howard dismissed the idea. Aliga had always been a mystery, her ways often puzzling but never a reason for concern. She was the village's most feared nightmare slayer, so you just trusted her-you didn't have to make sense of it all.
By midnight, the chill had deepened and the night was at its darkest. Everyone in the group, except for the one being on sentry, slept fitfully in their precarious positions upon the tree branches. Howard, whose arms were knotted down tightly, slumbered fitfully. His sentries then rotated their shifts, keeping watchful eyes over him to keep him under surveillance.
As Howard drifted off, high above the forest floor, a silent figure moved through the shadows below. The third nightmare conqueror, that one was the village's final secret weapon. He moved unseen, unwitnessed to the group above. It was a mission from Varek, the village leader, to follow the group at a distance, keeping watch so nothing went amiss but an eye more specifically on Aliga.
Hiding in secrecy he neither the own eyes nor the sharp senses of Aliga found him. His strict orders were to watch at a distance and intervene only where necessary. He moved into the shadows like a ghost, following them from below.