He found it difficult to maintain the necessary concentration as he awaited with suspense the return of the magician he had sent forth some weeks previously. He hated having to wait so long but caution made more sense now than unbecoming haste. Better a slow and certain result upon which he could build.

At last the air above the magic net vibrated and the trance within which he found himself enabled him to draw immediate conclusions regarding its source.

In Hjalgar then. The chalk drawing was becoming ever more crowded and complex as he added new lines.

The net was closing in.

Ahren's training continued and the boy and his wolf grew in body and spirit. Falk had now moved on to training his apprentice in using bow and arrow while in motion and they were now camping more often in the wilderness as their trips often involved more than a day's march.

The summer was wet and often very cloudy but Ahren only noticed this in passing. He was now catching his own game and was able to exchange this for Culhen's favourite meat. The lessons in bare hand-to-hand combat were now expanded as he learned fighting techniques with the dagger, which up to now Ahren had been carrying with him unused.

The time for picking new apprentices had passed by and not a single craftsman or woman had registered. The boy was doubly delighted that he had been chosen the previous year and threw himself even more into his training. This didn't go unnoticed and so Falk made the lessons even more challenging. Falk didn't beat around the bush but now set him tasks that he would have demanded of himself. Every evening Ahren fell into bed exhausted but happy, while Falk lay in front of the cabin under a tree and had hushed conversations with Selsena.

What are you thinking about? she asked silently one dreary summer's evening.

About the Blood Wolf, answered the Forest Guardian tersely.

Why? The animal is dead and the young one is developing splendidly, was the impatient answer.

Falk wasn't sure if she meant the wolf or his apprentice. His reward for this thought was an uncomfortable head butt from the horse.

It makes no sense, said Falk in his thoughts. She was crippled and pregnant, that's why we noticed her so late. She was old enough to be careful and have regard for her weaknesses.

The Elven horse rolled her eyes. We've gone over this ten times already. It wasn't your fault, her behaviour was completely untypical.

Falk responded, that's not what I mean. There were at least a dozen better hiding places between the Pall Pillar and this forest. Why here of all places?

You think too much, Selsena calmly replied.

Falk stared out into the forest and hoped she was right.

The year went by and soon autumn was coming to an end. The Autumn Festival came and went. At the end of his fifteenth summer Ahren got new leather gear because he had outgrown the old set, and he gave his master a carving of the Blood Wolf they had killed.

'You never took a trophy with you that time. Now you have one, master', Ahren said proudly.

'Should I be running around the place with one of his mother's fangs?' said Falk with a knowing look, pointing at Culhen, who had pricked up his ears immediately and tilted his head to the side. Then he ruffled Ahren's hair and said, 'thank you, that's good work'.

The Autumn Festival had been a pleasant distraction but was soon a distant memory. Ahren had laughed a lot and drunk a little with his friends. He and Sven avoided each other. He had seen nothing of his father, but he had heard that he was continuing to exchange his unexpected fortune for alcohol, with grim determination. Perhaps that was the only form of peace that the troubled man could achieve.

The winter was mild and stormy, a somewhat colder version of the previous summer, and Falk now let the boy spend the occasional night in the forest so that he could put what he had learnt into practice. When the spring returned, Falk grunted contentedly, 'keep going like this and the year after next you can do your Long Week'.

Ahren was happy to hear this. The Long Week was the final test to become a Forest Guardian. The subject was taken into the wilderness where he had to survive for a week with only his dagger, bow and a quiver with five arrows. If the apprentice returned, he was a Guardian. And he would receive a distinction if he brought a trophy back with him.

But two years was a long time and Ahren wanted to learn as much as he could. Who knew, perhaps his master would send him away then.

The winter finally came to an end and the weather improved considerably. The Spring Ceremony began with great joy, for the villagers were thankful for the unusually mild winter. There had been no deaths this year.

Ahren sat in the front row of the chapel along with Rufus, Likis and Holken. They were beginning their sixteenth summer and now it was time for them to swear on the Gods' Rock. Likis wore a garment in the colours of the merchants' guild, while Rufus had simply chosen his Godsday costume and had attached a pin cushion to his sleeve. Holken and Ahren both sat in the leather gear of their professions, for the oath, according to tradition, had to show the villagers who they were accepting among them and how seriously the person taking the oath was taking his or her responsibilities.

Falk grumbled from the second row. 'These festivities aren't really my thing, but this way they'll get used to the fact that someday it'll be you guarding the forest. I'm not going to be there forever'.

Before Ahren could react to this morbid thought, the Keeper indicated to them to stand up. The four youths obediently climbed up to the altar.

Keeper Jegral intoned, 'do you swear to protect the community of the peoples and to respect the THREE?'

'We do swear it', they responded.

'Do you swear allegiance to the THREE against all false images of life?'

'We do swear it' was the ritualistic response.

'And do you swear to take on the tasks which the THREE have prepared for you, and to fulfil them however long they take?'

Ahren found this last question very pompous. Tradition demanded that each of them came forward individually and placed their hand on the bare triangular rock which symbolized the rock of the gods.

Holken thundered in a resounding voice, 'I do swear it'. And he reverently laid his right hand on the rock.

Rufus followed his example with a more hesitant exclamation. The poor boy's voice hadn't completely broken yet and he didn't want to show any weakness.

Then Ahren stepped forward and raised his right hand. It floated over the rock but then he shrugged his shoulders and changed his mind. He placed his left hand on it. Falk smiled approvingly before his face suddenly grew serious.

For an almost imperceptible glow came from the rock as Ahren called out, 'I do swear it'.

A blinding flash of light filled the inside of the chapel and everyone shielded their eyes with their hands. A heartbeat later and the Godshouse was back to its peaceful self as if nothing had ever happened. There was confusion among the congregation. People looked at each other in bewilderment, looking for an explanation for what had just occurred.

Keeper Jegral raised his arms reassuringly, his silk gown was still sparkling and seemed to have trapped the lightning flash. It looked as if the robe was glowing in silent celebration. The priest's movements scattered a dozen little rainbows throughout the room.

'Surely just a stray shaft of light from the window', he announced with a firm authority in his voice that nobody dared to contradict.

He indicated to Likis to continue, who banged his hand on the rock and spoke hurriedly, 'I do swear it', and then pulled his hand back as quickly as possible as if he had touched a poisonous rather than a lifeless object.

Meanwhile Ahren was looking down at his hand, which tingled a little but was completely uninjured. He looked over at the Keeper in the hope of getting some help but Jegral simply ignored him. He spoke the closing words and the ritual came to an end. The four young men left their places in the front row, went back to sit down among the congregation and heard murmuring around them. Ahren looked at Falk, who alone among the people was motionless and seemed to be looking through his apprentice as if he didn't exist. His face was pale and lifeless, and he looked as if he had been shaken to the core.

His cursed bed had caught fire again! Of course it was partly his own fault, for he had woven the bed itself into the magic net but he hadn't reckoned on this. He looked at the charred mass that had once been the delicate carvings that had covered the four-poster bed. He had not wanted to miss the slightest movement of the netting and for that reason had slept within the catchment area. No goblin in Hjalgar could sneeze without him getting wind of it. His sleep had of course been somewhat disturbed, but this here? Snorting with rage he ripped off the burnt satin robe from his body and studied the ebony coloured skin that appeared beneath. No burns. That was lucky. His personal protective magic was still working.

He climbed out of the smoking ruins and went out onto the terrace, while behind him the servants, eyes wide in shock and open-mouthed, began clearing the chaos. He had found the old man and his loyal mare with the help of the last net but could not make head nor tail of how he was connected with the omen. He was clearly no threat.

And so he had held up the net and listened to everything going on within the Forest Guardian's orbit. With a flick of the hand all the magic threads, which were once his place of sleep and had almost turned him to ashes, became visible again. Green flames danced around black tendrils until a lurid flash of light destroyed the whole construct. That was unequivocal.

He let forth a long sigh and raised himself up into the wind with some words of power. He began floating to his destination and felt a cold blast of air tugging at him.

He would have to get hold of some clothing on the way.

Ahren stared into Selsena's slivery eyes.

'Now let me get past', he cried out annoyed, and tried to squeeze past the heavy body of the horse. But she pranced a step in his direction and knocked him to the ground.

The young man got up with a groan and eyeballed her again.

Falk had left the chapel the day before hot foot and stamped into the cabin, slamming the door behind him. The Titejunanwa had been standing guard at the entrance since then, preventing Ahren from reaching his master. The apprentice was worried about his master's strange behaviour and didn't want to leave Falk out of his sight. He had slept outside, snuggled up to his wolf, and even missed the festive meal in honour of the new community members. His stomach was rumbling, and as he had slept on the bare ground, his back ached.

It was late afternoon and his patience was at an end. He turned around and with a few deft movements of his fingers he lit a fire. Then he took the smouldering branches and began throwing them in a wide arc through the cabin chimney. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then he heard a loud cursing coming from within and two heartbeats later the door was flung open, hitting Selsena in the rump. She moved aside with a disgusted snort and an angry Falk came into view.

The veins in his head were bulging and his face was a deep red. A smoking branch was still hanging on his collar as he roared, 'WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!'

'Welcome back, master', said Ahren in a friendly tone, determined not to be brow-beaten.

Falk threw his arms in the air and furiously stamped back into the cabin. Ahren slipped in quickly too, before the door crashed shut again. The bed was untouched, apparently Falk hadn't slept. Ahren furtively glanced at the old man. The angry red colour had vanished but now he was staring listlessly out the window. Whatever had been eating him, it was still there.

Ahren warmed up the stew and placed two full bowls on the table. Falk didn't react so he gobbled down both bowls himself. Then he swept the cabin, added firewood to the fire and began to groom Culhen, who stretched out and grumbled contentedly.

When it finally became dark, he lay down and watched the figure of his master, still standing there, before he finally fell asleep.

Sometime during the night Falk had left the house and was now lying asleep under a tree and snug against Selsena. She had her legs folded under her as she always did when she wanted to rest.

Ahren stood at the door early the next morning and looked at the two of them. Whatever was bothering Falk, Selsena was obviously helping him deal with it.

The young man decided to seek out Keeper Jegral. Perhaps he could help Falk or at least explain to Ahren what the story with the light was.

He ambled into the village and had a friendly greeting for everyone he met. Most reacted as they always had done but there were a few who seemed nervous and hurried away. There seemed to be more than one person brooding over what had happened. He found the Keeper in his reading room, hidden behind a pile of books.

'Good morning, Keeper', he said loudly to attract his attention.

The priest looked up and blinked owlishly when he recognized the apprentice.

'May the THREE protect you, Ahren'. There was an audible creak as the figure stretched unceremoniously. 'I take it this is not a courtesy visit?'

Without waiting for an answer, he continued, 'I'm looking for answers myself, you know. But I can't find any. This Spring Festival ritual just came out of nowhere a few hundred years ago. It was never mentioned in the yearly chronicles, and then, from one year to the next it was suddenly a part of the Spring Consecration. No explanation, no nothing. That's very unusual'.

Ahren could almost physically feel the priest's frustration. He wasn't going to get any answers here today. He said his goodbyes and wandered aimlessly through the village. He kept seeing uneasy eyes staring at him, and so, clenching his teeth, he made his way home again. Much to his surprise and delight, Falk was up and cheerful when he arrived. His master had packed an enormous rucksack and indicated to Ahren to put it on. The young man groaned under the weight and Falk strode silently into the forest. His apprentice followed him, swaying under the weight, and hoping that his master hadn't decided to take out all his frustrations on him.

Falk led him up to the most northern end of the forest, then down to the western border and then further down to the southern edge of the trees. He would frequently point out milestones to Ahren and give tips of what he should keep a particular eye on in various parts of the forest. The first few days were certainly hard going but the longer they were underway, the lighter the rucksack became. Falk clearly didn't want to delay the hunt and soon he hardly felt the bundle on his back. He constantly sensed Selsena as a silver-grey shadow flitting between the trees, yet she kept her distance. It was as if Falk wanted to get as much information as possible into Ahren's head before they finished their tour around the forest.

They were on the way back at last when Ahren summoned all his courage and asked, 'master, what sort of a light was that in the chapel?'

He held his breath, anxiously awaiting the reaction, for he had no idea what would happen now.

Falk stopped, paused and then turned to face the young man, who unconsciously took up a defensive stance.

You've certainly thrown him there. Selsena's voice rang out uninvited in his thoughts.

Falk ignored her and tried to think of a suitable answer for his apprentice.

'I saw something like this once before, many years ago. It means that I must leave Deepstone for a while', he said finally.

Ahren suddenly had an uneasy feeling in his stomach and could only stammer, 'what do you mean?'

Culhen pressed up against his leg and he held firmly on to his soft fur. The wolf was now as tall as the middle of his thigh.

'I have to seek out a very dangerous place now and the way there is long. I can't take you with me', he continued in a tone that brooked no dissent.

The young man recognized this tone and knew he wouldn't get anywhere. And so he decided to play along for the moment, which would give him a chance to think out what tack to take.

He nodded, knowing that his voice would in all probability have betrayed him.

'Good boy', grunted Falk and trudged onwards, lost in thought again.

The following day they arrived at their cabin again, which looked forlorn in the afternoon sunshine.

As they entered, Ahren noticed a carefully folded sheet of papyrus that somebody had pushed under the door. He recognized Likis' neat handwriting and wondered what was so important that his friend would leave something so valuable. Neither vellum nor papyrus were cheap and were mostly only used for official reasons or for profitable business dealings. Only the truly wealthy wrote letters to each other.

Ahren was able to read by now, and so he scanned the writing. Then he crumpled up the letter and threw it onto the fire that Falk had just lit. The old man raised his eyebrows and looked at the youth. Ahren clenched his fist and said quietly, 'Sven is stirring it up again. He's spreading rumours that the thing with the rock is a sign from the THREE that they are angry because we are bringing up a Dark One. We're clearly not honouring the gods and other nonsense. The fact that we've been missing for a few days isn't helping things either'.

He shook his head and looked out the window.

Falk grunted and sat down on a stool. He hadn't seen that coming. 'Good, I'll talk to everyone tomorrow. Then I'll decamp'.

Ahren spun around. 'You're seriously going to leave me on my own to face this mess?' Reproach and disbelief were written all over his face.

His master answered in a pained voice. 'I'm leaving you alone with the whole forest, boy. The village intrigues should present no problem'.

Falk had dismissed the latest attacks by the miller's son so casually that it was clear his own problems had to be considerable. Ahren was far from sure he could persuade his master to stay. He decided he would ask Selsena for help early the next morning when Falk was in the village. His master would surely listen to her. He hoped.

An uneasy silence hung in the air that evening and Ahren went to bed early. The thought that this would be the last night together for a long time dampened his mood and followed him into his dreams. A shadowy black figure seemed to be following him in the wood and it kept coming nearer. He kept looking anxiously over his shoulder at it and pointed it out to Falk, who didn't seem to notice it. When the thing was very close, he said, 'I must go now', and disappeared with a boom. Black-boned fingers grasped at Ahren and pressed on his throat…

Then he woke up.

The booming sound was still there and after several heartbeats he realized that somebody was hammering on the door in the middle of the night. As he was sitting up, still in a daze, Falk jumped out of the bed cursing, lit a candle and stomped to the door calling out loudly, 'may the THREE have mercy on you if this isn't important!' He pulled aside the latch and swung the door open.

A small pitch-black figure stood in the doorway and said, 'they do and it is!'

Ahren thought for a moment that the monster in his dreams had come to collect him but then he saw that it was a small boy with ebony coloured skin, wearing a black robe. He held a smoothly polished dark crystal ball in his right hand which glittered in the candle light. Before he recognized what it was, Falk had already slammed the door shut with a cry of anger, not giving their unusual visitor a chance to step in.

'Very adult' intoned a sarcastic voice through the thick wood. The dry, sober tone didn't match the voice of a young boy and this made Ahren uneasy, as did his master's violent reaction.

Falk roared through the closed door. 'Get lost, I want to have no more to do with you'.

'I would rather come through an open door but come through I shall. What say you now, Falkenstein?'

Falk opened the door wordlessly and stood aside.

'Good decision', said the boy in a praising, almost fatherly voice, and he stepped inside.

Ahren quietly pinched himself in the arm to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. They obviously knew each other, but why did his master allow this smart-aleck to treat him like that?

'It's been a while, hasn't it?' the boy remarked. 'Where's Selsena hiding then?'

Falk snarled, 'if she's any sense and noticed your presence, she'll have galloped away as quickly as possible'.

'No need to be so rude, Falkenstein. If memory serves me correctly, you were the one who was much better at running away. Isn't that so?' was the calm response.

Culhen had hardly reacted to the boy, strangely enough, and was even allowing him to stroke him. The boy looked at the wolf curiously.

Ahren took the opportunity to observe the intruder in more detail.

He looked like a boy of perhaps nine summers from either the deep lands of the south or the jungles of the east where the people had dark brown skin. His head was completely shaven and his eyebrows had been plucked and trimmed to form two thin lines. His expression was majestic, a sharp, straight nose above a severe mouth. His bearing was that of an adult although he had the appearance of a child. He was wearing a simple, black robe, which lent his ambiguous appearance an air of something disturbing and ominous. The material shimmered and Ahren recognized it must be made from satin. Whoever he was, he was certainly wealthy.

Falk had collapsed on a stool. The boy's last remark had obviously hit him where it hurt. 'You have no right to say something like that. Not you', Falk said in little more than a whisper.

The visitor now became animated for the first time. 'Oh yes I do. I've earned that right through all the years we spent doing your work while you all were in hiding or chasing your gossamer dreams. Do you know what Qin-Wa is up to at the moment?'

'I heard', said Falk darkly.

'Really? Here in the back of beyond? You don't know the half of it, Falkenstein'.

'They call me Falk here', muttered Falk and stole a glance at Ahren.

The apprentice looked bemusedly from one to the other and didn't understand the world anymore. Falkenstein was one of those flowery names used in the Knight Marshes. But if Falk was really called Falkenstein, why was he using the short form? Had his mentor done something wrong and was he now in hiding here? When he had spoken about his past, the word 'drifter' had come up. Apparently, he had concealed more from his apprentice than the young man had imagined.

The intruder looked directly at Ahren for the first time, deep blue eyes that bore into his own. 'Falk, hmm? Well, alright. It makes no odds at the moment'.

He snapped his fingers and the wood in the fireplace lit up and blazed for a moment with a powerful flame. Blinking in the sudden light, Ahren tried to take in what had just happened when the boy bowed to him and introduced himself in a formal tone. 'May I introduce myself? Uldini Getobo, adviser to the emperor of the Sunplains, chief commander to the Ancients and beloved of the gods'. And he gave an extremely winning smile which revealed his teeth. He was the very paragon of charm and politeness.

'Ahren, delighted to meet you', mumbled the apprentice instinctively, and stared at the figure in front of him. So this was the immortal magician who had once weaved the Bane Spell against the Adversary and created the Pall Pillar? Ahren decided that this would be the opportune moment to wake up.

He closed his eyes firmly and pinched himself in the arm. Unfortunately, this didn't change the scenario and the young boy was still there.

'Did you expect us to recognize you?' Falk's interjection was thrown into the room with more than a hint of gratification and malice. 'Any bard trying to earn a crust by telling stories about you, makes you into a benevolent old man with a big bushy beard. Nobody wants to hear about a shit-arse who can flatten whole cities in a pique of anger'.

Uldini looked over Ahren's shoulder at Falk mischievously and said, 'there you are at last, my old friend. I did miss you'.

Ahren couldn't tell if this was sarcasm or the truth and before he could decipher Falk's facial reaction, his master asked, 'well, what do you want here?'

'Don't feign ignorance, you know very well'. The magician stuck out his hand and the crystal ball that he had been holding floated upwards and remained hanging in the air between the boy and Ahren. The apprentice pulled further back into his bed but the ball simply adapted its position.

'Just stay still, it will only take a second and probably won't hurt', grumbled the dark-skinned boy and mumbled a few mysterious words. Green sparks danced in the air between the ball and Ahren before transforming into a bright flash of light that resembled the light in the chapel during the Spring Festival.

Falk slumped into himself and whispered, 'it's true then'.

The magician spun around to face him. 'Of course it's true. Anyone who wants to see it can see it. Do you think I came here just to perform this little trick? I just wanted to play it safe and make sure I was rescuing the right one of the four'.

Falk was really paying attention now and the Uldini nodded. 'Exactly. A large pack of Fog Cats are on their way here and are going to destroy the whole village. We have to get out of here as quickly as possible'.

Falk leaped up and ran to his trunk. 'How many?'

'How do I know, two dozen or thereabouts. I didn't stay to count them', the wizard spat out. 'I let myself be carried here by the Wild Wind so I wouldn't be noticed'.

Ahren was completely confused now. Nothing made any sense and so he clung on to the information he could make sense of. The village was being attacked by Dark Ones and the villagers were in danger! He jumped out of bed and began to get dressed. Falk did the same without saying a word. Within moments they were ready. The old man had put on the armour he had worn when they had chased the Blood Wolf and attached the broadsword.

Uldini looked at him with his head tilted and asked, 'and where is the rest of the armour?'

'Later', said Falk tersely and walked towards the door followed by the others.

Selsena was standing in front of the house and neighed quietly in greeting. There was neither animosity nor rejection in her attitude. Whatever row the Forest Guardian had with the magician, the Elven horse wasn't involved in it.

Ahren turned in the direction of the village and trotted off. Culhen trotted beside him with his nose in the wind, when the young man heard Uldini's voice behind him. 'Where do you think you're going?'

Ahren stopped, confused, and turned around. While Falk was looking uncertainly and Selsena was prancing on the spot, the little figure of the magician stood there, his clenched fists on his hips before pointing to the north of the forest. 'We're disappearing as fast as we can'.

'But the village needs our help!' Ahren was perplexed.

Then Falk spoke. 'Boy, I had my work cut out for me dealing with one Fog Cat, but combating more than twenty? That's suicide'.

'I think he's such a great magician, he can help us, or am I wrong?' answered Ahren fiercely. He wasn't going to let his friends die!

'You don't know the first thing about magic. If I intervene, it will be like a magnet. There are far worse things than a few Fog Cats out there that can find us', warned Uldini.

Ahren looked to Falk for support, and it was clear from his master's face that he wanted to help. The Forest Guardian hesitated for a moment, then nodded to his student and ran towards the village. Selsena neighed triumphantly and joined the group.

Ahren and Cuhlen ran with wild determination beside the Forest Guardian and the four of them disappeared into the undergrowth leaving a flabbergasted master magician standing in their wake.

'Hell-fire and damnation, of all the…!' thundered the now strangely old sounding voice of the boy into the night. He broke off his tirade of curses and shook his head. It had never been easy with Falk, and the youngster seemed to have made these tendencies even stronger. This was going to be some amount of work. He raised his hands out from his body with a sigh until they were at a shallow angle to the ground, rose a hand's width up from the ground and floated after the others.

It wasn't long before Ahren and Falk had reached the edge of the village and all seemed quiet.

'Perhaps there's still time. We should sound the alarm bell. If we get everyone into the Village hall or the chapel and light as many fires as possible, we can sit out the night. The battle would be much easier in daylight', whispered his master.

Ahren nodded. Falk had taught him much about combat with Fog Cats. They had originally been lynxes from the Fog Forests before they were employed by the Adversary as trackers and assassins. They had matt grey fur and could melt into the shadows and jump in among them within a heartbeat as long as they had a clear field of vision. Fighting them in an environment of no light was almost impossible. Because of course they could see in the dark and they also had superior hearing. Falk had defeated Grey Fang that time by smoking him out of his lair with a smouldering fire at midday. As soon as the furious beast was forced to spring out into the sunshine, Falk had shot an arrow through him before he had a chance of reaching the shade.

Ahren looked around him and shivered. Yes, it was a starry night and the moon was shining brightly, but here on the edge of the forest were many places the light didn't reach. And no fires were burning in the villagers' houses at this time. Every residence was deathly black.

The two Guardians crept slowly forwards, Culhen stalked in the undergrowth and Selsena stood stock still and listened with her thoughts. They had just arrived on the village square when Selsena neighed shrilly.

'They're there', whispered Falk and looked searchingly around. Ahren did the same and saw spots of moving darkness, that were appearing everywhere between the huts. They were leaping from shadow to shadow and he saw in horror how some of them were jumping onto the roofs of the huts and staring down the chimneys. A heartbeat later and they were gone and terrorized screams could be heard from within the buildings.

Ahren felt sick. He raced over to the alarm bell in the middle of the square and banged it as hard as he could so all of the citizens of Deepstone became aware of the imminent danger. At the same time Falk pulled out his flint stone and ran with Culhen by his side. Selsena in the meantime had spotted one of the Dark Ones, hiding between two houses and charged at it.

The shrill sound of the bell resounded through the night and the heads of all the Fog Cats that were out in the open turned around. Ahren saw little red eyes narrowed to a slit, looking him up and down. Falk had quickly lit one of the large torches that were attached to the iron holders at the entrance to the Village Hall and was already lighting the second one.

Ahren yanked an arrow out of his quiver and shot at one of the shapes that was coming towards them slowly and furtively. The weapon would have hit its target but the animal leaped at the last moment into the shadow of a hut, where it vanished, only to re-appear two huts further on.

'Save your arrows until they're nearer and the light lessens their possibility of escape', shouted Falk.

Both torches were now brightly lighting Ahren and his fighting companions within a circle with a radius of five paces, which dissipated the darkness. But now Ahren could only make out the eyes of the creatures, which were jumping hither and thither and circling ever closer around the two Guardians and Culhen, who was running around growling but remaining within the light. From the darkness they heard a wrathful spitting sound that suddenly broke off, followed by a loud whinnying. 'Selsena's got one', said Falk grimly and set a bow on his arrow too, taking aim into the darkness.

Torches began to flare up behind the huts. The inhabitants had been abruptly torn from their sleep by the ringing of the alarm bell and the screams of the dying.

Falk roared with all his might, 'Fog Cats! Stay in your houses, stoke the fire! Don't open your doors or windows!'

Ahren screamed the same but for some the warning was too late. They heard more screams coming from the darkness as windows and doors were torn open, allowing the night attackers a way in. With tears in his eyes Ahren shot another arrow and could only hear helplessly, how the unequal duels came to their bloody ends.

'We have to do something', he said, turning in frustration to his master.

Falk glanced at him before aiming once again into the darkness beyond the torch light. 'Count them all. We're holding at least half of them at bay for the moment and Selsena has already killed three'. Every time the Titejunanwa was victorious, Falk was filled with a wave of joyful euphoria. 'If everyone stays in their homes, we should be able to prevent further victims. As long as we survive', he added.

Meanwhile the Fog cats had slunk up almost as far as the blazing light and could now be made out as grey spectres. Falk let fly with an arrow and one of the shapes was spun around spitting furiously before it collapsed and was totally still. Ahren followed his master's actions and both began to fire off arrows as quickly as possible.

They had already hit five or six Fog Cats when the rest of them began moving together towards them, emitting a most terrifying caterwauling sound.

'They're calling on others for back up', said Falk between shots and pulled out his broadsword. 'Make a bit of room. You keep to the right and let Culhen cover your left side'. Ahren moved to the side and pulled out his dagger and gave the wolf a firm hand signal to follow the order given.

Seven of the animals now stormed into the circle of light and finally Ahren could see details. Time seemed to slow down as the wiry, slim, matt grey bodies jumped towards them. Their grey fur was patterned with thin black stripes and the broad heads of the feline predators had long pointed furry hairs at the tips of their ears, almost like lynxes that had been bereft of their colour, so that they looked like the embodiment of the night.

All this went through Ahren's mind within a heartbeat and then the attackers were directly in front of him.

With a roar Falk started swinging his broadsword in a complicated pattern and caught two of the cats in one go while Culhen jumped on another cat. Ahren saw as if through a tunnel a grey face with bared fangs jumping towards him. He dropped his arrow, yanked his dagger upwards, went into a defensive position before the body of the creature crashed against him and pulled the ground from under him. As if in a frenzy, Ahren started stabbing in every direction, the priceless lessons of his master quite forgotten, while the claws of the Fog Cat tried to find a way through his leather clothing and the head lunged forward attempting to bite Ahren in the face. The Dark One seemed twice as big now as it had a heartbeat earlier. Its fangs were snapping shut close to his throat, the muscly body was clasping at him and into him with its claws, and with wild movements it threw him to the ground. The Fog Cat was now standing over him and had the upper hand. All would soon be up with Ahren.

Strangely enough, this thought helped the young man to overcome his panic. He remembered one of his master's lessons and reacted with lightning speed. Instead of pushing his opponent away and thereby giving him room to manoeuvre, he wrapped himself around the Fog Cat's neck and pulled it with all his strength towards him, so that its mouth bit harmlessly into his shoulder armour. At the same time, he drove his dagger through the ribs and into the heart of the beast, which crumpled together and became limp.

Ahren looked around frantically and saw that Falk had killed another cat and Culhen had his opponent in his mouth. The wolf shook the Dark One until it was completely still. The other two Fog Cats had retreated to the darkness again and were pacing around them in a semi circle without starting another attack. Ahren shoved the body aside and pulled himself up. He had just regained his breath when another ten pair of eyes appeared.

Falk said in a serious voice, 'the good news is that the villagers are safe for the moment. Selsena says all of them are here. They want to overrun us as a pack'.

Ahren swallowed hard, his mouth was bone dry and his hands, wet with the blood of the Fog Cat, were shaking.

The circle of grey bodies was moving inexorably closer and emitting a low purring sound that bored right into Ahren's very bones.

'Killing gives them pleasure. The Adversary has corrupted them through and through', said Falk disgustedly.

Ahren tried desperately to calm himself. His bow was too far away from him on the ground, and Falk didn't have time to change weapons, to shoot another arrow and get his heavy sword into position again. Culhen stood attentively at Ahren's left leg and so the three waited for the remaining Dark Ones to attack. They were seconds away from being destroyed.

Then Selsena rammed through the darkness into a straggler, who died with a shrill spitting. This sound worked like a signal on the mob, which now stormed forward and were ready to pounce in a wave of claws and fangs and wipe the three fighters off the face of the earth.

But then the torches suddenly went out.

At least that's what it seemed to Ahren because the flame from the torches became so small that they emitted almost no light. A heartbeat later the stolen fire resurfaced again but this time behind the surprised Fog Cats, who hesitated for a moment. This short delay saved the Guardians and the wolf for in the next moment the round creation of swirling fire exploded into a fan that spread in a semi-circle, catching everything that lay in its path. The Dark Ones caught fire in an instant and were blazing fiercely while Ahren threw himself, his arms clasped protectively over his head, on top of Culhen as the wave of fire raced towards them. But just like a real wave, this one broke too and pulled back to its source, until it was once again a circular fireball in the night.

Ahren lifted his head and saw the little outline of Uldini. He was standing with the crystal ball in his raised right hand and chanting some words while the swirling fireball dispersed into sparks. The flames of the torches immediately grew back to their original size and blazed contentedly as if nothing had ever happened.

Falk had watched the magic unmoved and without batting an eyelid. He sheathed his broadsword once it was clear that the burning heaps, which only a few seconds earlier had almost spelt their doom, were not going to rise up again. 'What took you so long?' he growled at the magician.

Uldini approached the torch light and Ahren was amazed to see that the boyish figure was floating over the ground and moving as quickly as a running adult.

'I had to catch up with you and could only use a little magic or they would have sensed where I was and intercepted me. So I had the whole pack in one place and I only needed one conjuration to nab them all'. The magician's voice constantly changed between a furious hissing and a reproachful grumbling.

'However I have made all Dark Ones within two hundred miles aware of us so we need to get out of here as quickly as possible'.

Their rescuer's voice was so full of suppressed rage by this point that Ahren retreated until he felt the wooden wall of the Village Hall at his back.

Uldini made a dismissive hand gesture in his direction and snarled, 'explain it to him. I'll go and heal a few wounded people and then we'd better go, before this place is wiped off the map'. Then he floated off to the cabins where the cries of pain were coming from.

Falk made a conciliatory gesture and nodded, then turned towards his apprentice, who was just checking Culhen for injuries. The blood that was glistening on him seemed to be all from the monster that the wolf had conquered.

Ahren let out a sigh of relief and embraced his true friend. He himself was covered in blood so it made no odds. He was just happy to be alive.

Falk squatted down beside them. 'We don't have much time, but you need to know one of the ground rules of magic. The intentions with which a magic spell is cast always have an influence on the spirit of the magic maker. If you conjure in a rage, then this rage recoils on you. This effect is all the greater, the stronger and more quickly the spell is cast. If you destroy or kill with your magic, then the whole thing is much worse'. He gave Ahren a firm look. 'Whenever he's the way he is now, then don't provoke him. It's hard enough for him to pull himself together. Many war magicians have fallen into a frenzy and have had to be killed by their own people'.

'Is he going to recover?' whispered Ahren. He didn't know how good a furious magician's ears were and he didn't want to take any chances.

'Of course the feelings fade away in time. And constructive magic, which is created from pity or love, has the opposite effect. He's helping those who can be saved, and so he'll almost be back to his old self'.

His master slapped him on the back. 'Now go and bid farewell to everyone. He's right in one respect, even if I don't want to admit it. The sooner we're gone, the safer Deepstone is'.

Ahren was excited and sad at the same time. Falk would be bringing him along instead of leaving him here. There was something uncannily reassuring about this thought. But it was hard to accept that he would have to leave everything he knew behind him. His thoughts came thick and fast as he remembered his friends and it became clear to him that he didn't know if they survived the attack unscathed. Ice seemed to flow through his veins when he imagined Likis might have been slaughtered by one of these grey monsters, and so he jumped to his feet and ran off.

Falk looked after him with an understanding look and let him do as he pleased. The wolf would make sure he was safe, and he asked Selsena to keep Ahren's feelings in sight. He stood up slowly with a sigh and sounded the bell three times so the villagers were alerted that the danger had been banished.

Ahren heard the bell echoing behind him and as he ran between the cabins, doors and windows were carefully opened and frightened villagers peered out into the darkness. Ahren kept calling out as he passed them by, 'the danger is past. Go to the square and see who you can help'.

It wasn't far, a few hundred paces, but he felt as if the village path was stretching out to eternity. As he trotted forward, he wiped the blood awkwardly from his clothing until a wet sheen on the dark leather was the only tell-tale sign of his encounter with the Fog Cats. Culhen was stalking alongside Selsena in the trees – the inhabitants were nervous enough without seeing an Elven horse and a bloodstained wolf.

Ahren reached the northern end of the village at last and saw the merchant's house. Light came from under the door and there were no cries of pain. In fact, it had been a while since he'd passed any houses that were dark, which revealed the disaster that must have befallen their inhabitants. It was clear that the attackers had attacked the village from the south and the northern part had remained untouched.

A quick sidelong glance at his father's house revealed nothing of his fate. Light could rarely be seen inside and Ahren was fairly certain that Edrik had slept through the attack in an alcoholic stupor.

He hammered on his friend's door and shouted, 'Likis, are you there? Are you all alright?'

'Ahren?' came his friend's voice from inside. Then he heard the scratching sound of the latch being drawn back and the curious face of his friend appeared. The merchants' colours were even on his night cap and Ahren couldn't help sniggering when he saw his friend, in spite of the situation.

Likis pulled the cap from his head and muttered, 'what's been going on?' Beside him were his parents with concerned faces. They were both holding daggers and spied over Ahren's shoulders into the night outside.

'We heard the alarm bell and wanted to go to the village square but then everyone started shouting we should stay at home. We heard the all-clear bell earlier but nobody stirred around here and we thought better safe than sorry, so stayed put inside'.

'Fog Cats, a whole pack of them', Ahren explained quickly. 'We've killed them all'. He thought he'd just leave it at that for the moment. The task he still had to perform was difficult enough, and he didn't want to frighten his friend to death.

'Listen to me. Master Falk has to leave Deepstone for a while and I'm supposed to go with him. So, it's farewell for now…' His voice had been cracking with emotion until it finally trailed off.

Likis stared at him in amazement and said, 'now, in the middle of the night?',while his mother added, 'after an attack like that?'

Ahren decided to tell a white lie to prevent an avalanche of questions. 'We want to be sure that we got them all and find out where they came from'. He really was befuddled about the wizard's and his master's motives but that sounded plausible enough and the attack had somehow been connected with their imminent journey. At least that's how he understood it.

He hugged his astonished friend and said over Likis' shoulder to his parents, 'thank you for everything'. He couldn't say another word but it seemed to have been enough. They gave a nod, full of understanding and warmth. Once again Ahren asked himself what his life would have been like if he had had parents like that. Strangely, the question had lost its force, for the path of his life had led to Falk, and that had made up for a lot that had happened to him before, in spite of all the dangers. He let go of Likis and said, 'I'm sure we'll see each other again soon. Look after yourself and your parents and stay well clear of Sven. He'll be looking for a new target when I'm gone'.

'I'll take care of him, don't you worry about that', said his friend in a husky voice. 'And don't you go falling into the clutches of some Dark One'.

They both gave quick nods, then Ahren turned on his heels and disappeared quickly between the cabins so his friend wouldn't see the tears streaming down his cheeks.


It was a sorry sight that greeted Ahren when he reached the village square again. Villagers were standing all around in various states of dress. Most had woollen coats thrown over their nightgowns. Here and there blood-stained bandages glistened in the torchlight and the sound of distraught voices was punctuated by sobs and quiet sobbing. At the other end of the square he could see a row of motionless figures, lying on the ground and covered by woollen blankets.

Falk pulled him away before he could go over. There was no sign of Uldini. He grasped his apprentice by the shoulder and said, 'you don't want to see that, believe me'.

'Who?' asked Ahren, flatly.

Falk listed off a few names but none of them were people he had been close to. He felt a mixture of relief and guilt, but then Falk continued, 'Rufus is lying there among them'.

Ahren felt a stabbing pain in his chest. Even though the unremarkable boy hadn't been a friend really, he had always been nice to him. Ahren had learned to value his calm, steady manner in the Godsday school. Now he recognised three of the names. Rufus' parents and his ten-year old sister were also among the dead. He could see the faces of the three in his mind's eye and he felt sick. He doubled over and supported his hands on his knees and breathed deeply while Falk whispered to him, 'I know it's hard but every second counts now. A horde of Dark Ones are coming in our direction right now, and the quicker we get away from there, the safer these people will be'.

'Uldini said the Fog Cats were after four people. He means us, doesn't he? Likis, Holken, Rufus and me. It's all connected somehow with the light at the Spring Ceremony, isn't it?' Ahren spoke in a hushed voice but Falk motioned to him to be quiet.

'I'll explain it all to you later but our friend says the others are safe. The attention is focused on you, him and me'.

'Why?' asked Ahren insistently.

'Later. Now let's scram'. Falk grabbed his upper arm and led him through the crowd. 'I've already told the village council and Keeper Jegral and explained our future absence. Uldini is waiting with our four-legged friends so as to avoid questions being asked that we can't answer'.

They arrived at the edge of village square and melted into the thicket of trees before Ahren had a chance to look for any familiar faces among the villagers.

Falk began to march as quickly as possible off through the forest. Within a few paces Culhen was by Ahren's side and the young man gratefully stroked the animal's coat, which was now dripping wet. Culhen must have used the free time to have a bath in a stream. Ahren smiled mischievously. He suspected, and not for the first time, that his four-legged friend was rather vain.

Selsena was waiting for them further back in the forest, standing motionless under an enormous oak tree. Her silver skin was lacerated with countless red welts, where the claws of the Fog Cats had scratched through her hide. Ahren stopped in shock but a wave of calmness came to him from Selsena.

'It's fine. Everything will be healed by the day after tomorrow'. The dark shape of the wizard came forth from behind the tree and looked at her with a critical eye. 'Is everything sorted or do you still have to hold hands with someone or other', he asked in a biting tone. His voice was beginning to come back to normal but he still seemed to be suffering under the emotional recoil of the death bringing fire magic.

'How many were you able to save?' asked Ahren, partly out of curiosity but also in an effort to distract the magician. If healing magic could help to restore his balance, then perhaps the memory of it could too.

'Five villagers will live to see another day although it was a close call for two of them. And I had to put them all under a sleeping spell, so there wouldn't be a new village legend about a healing black dwarf'. The biting tone could still be heard in the magician's voice, although a little fainter.

'Make yourself useful and heal Selsena', growled Falk and glared at the little being.

He nodded in reply and said, 'another bit of magic won't make any difference, all the Dark Ones in the area got a whiff of us long ago'. He murmured a few words that Ahren couldn't understand and green sparks appeared around the ball, which Uldini was still holding in his right hand. More and more sparks appeared over the course of perhaps ten heartbeats before they soared up and then dived like a swarm of glow-worms down onto Selsena, who stood stock still. The sparks landed on the welts where they went out, leaving a faint green glimmer, which gradually faded and disappeared. A perfect hide remained where the lights had been extinguished, leaving no sign whatever of injury.

'Are we ready then?' The wizard's voice sounded tired rather than irritated. Ahren decided this had to be an improvement.

'Where exactly are we going?' asked Falk hesitantly.

'To look for the Einhan of course. First the elves, then the dwarves. And, of course we need our Finder of the Path.'

The wizard stood there hopping from one foot to the other and for the first time he really looked like a little boy. The young Forest Guardian had to keep reminding himself that the boy beside him was one of the Ancients, one of the wizards and wizardesses who had unlocked the secret of eternal youth for themselves. And he wasn't just anyone, he was the highest and mightiest of the Ancients. Everyone knew the story of the gods' darling, the Ancient who knew how to do magic like no other being in Jorath. But the legends had never said anything about a delicate nine-year-old. Ahren brooded and turned to Culhen who was standing on his hind legs with his tongue hanging out and looking from one to the other. Then it slowly dawned on him what the ancient boy had just said. Elves and dwarves? Ahren felt a thrill of anticipation in spite of all the horrors of this night. This journey promised to be exciting!

Falk said, 'then we're going to have to stop here in the forest temporarily. Otherwise Selsena will attract too much attention to herself'.

Uldini looked critically at the Titejunanwa's horns and nodded.

'It's a detour of only a few miles, and we're definitely going to need the rest of my armour', continued the Guardian.

Uldini raised no objections and so Falk tapped Selsena on her hide and started off.

Ahren felt ignored and the events of the last few hours made him combative. 'I'm going nowhere until someone explains to me by the love of the THREE, what is actually going on here!' And he jutted his chin out, ready for a fight.

All turned around to the apprentice in surprise and Uldini asked, 'what did you tell him?'

Falk didn't answer, at which point the boy laughed angrily, making a most peculiar sound and said, 'he's your protégé. Good luck!' Then he pointedly walked on.

Falk glowered at Ahren, a piercing look that he reserved for occasions when his apprentice had behaved particularly stupidly. Then he waved the young man over to him and said, 'let's march on and I'll tell you what you need to know'. Contented with his partial victory, Ahren set off and the disparate group went on their way.

They went through the forest speedily, Uldini floated along again above the ground so he could keep up with the experienced Guardians in the darkness of the night.

Falk rubbed his beard as he always did when he was contemplating something, and finally said, 'it's best if I start at the very beginning. You know about the Paladins?'

Ahren answered mistrustfully, 'I know what was taught in the Godsday school and I know the stories that have been told around the bonfire and in the tavern'.

'Then you know that there used to be thirteen Paladins, who fought during the Dark Days until the Night of Blood when one of them was killed?' Falk's voice was cracking and Ahren nodded. 'There are some things that the peoples today would rather not talk about. When it became clear that HE, WHO FORCES, could not be killed on account of the missing Paladin,' Falk continued, 'a magic spell was woven as an alternative, which was supposed to prevent him from ever waking up again. But the Ancients were no gods, nor even demi-gods. They had to combine the magic formula with a condition which could dissolve it. Otherwise their power would not have been strong enough to cast the spell. Only HE WHO FORCES has been able to cast permanent magic spells – and it's through those spells that the Dark Ones were created'.

Ahren nodded and couldn't resist a quick glance over his shoulder. Tramping through the forest in the middle of the night so soon after a fight with a horde of Fog Cats wasn't good for his nerves. The uncontrolled shivering, which he had also experienced after his encounter with the Blood Wolf, had stopped in the meantime, which meant he was gradually getting used to the sensation of danger. Falk had been right in that respect.

'Thirteen Paladins are needed to defeat the Adversary. For the THREE had invested exactly that amount of power into the awakening of the Paladins, which was the same amount of power that had gone into the creation of the Custodian. Not too much, not too little. They were the means needed to recreate the harmony of the creation'.

Falk was staring off into the middle distance. He sounded as if we were retelling something from his childhood.

'So some of them thought it would be clever to connect the condition for ending the excommunication to the one thing that could kill the Betrayer. As soon as the thirteenth Paladin was chosen, then the magic spell that held the enemy in the Pall Pillar would break. The election was powerful enough as a ritual to guarantee that none of his servants could evade the trigger'.

'But that sounds like a great plan', said Ahren, hoping the old man would continue.

'That's what everyone thought at the time. But a Paladin had never been killed before. No-one knew what would happen next. It was hoped that the thirteenth Paladin would be born again within a few years, the Pall Pillar would dissipate, and then the three could unleash their powers simultaneously and kill the Adversary before he had a chance to recover from the effects of the enchanted sleep and before he had the chance to form a new army. But they had underestimated one thing'. They ducked under a low hanging branch as they travelled on and he continued to speak. 'The THREE were in a dreamless deep sleep and it was impossible to wake them or to plead to them in their dreams, as they had been able to do before. So for the moment there was no possibility that they could create a new Paladin until they had recovered somewhat, and no one knew how long this would take. The world was caught up in a deceptive peace. The centuries passed and many came to terms with the Pall Pillar and declared the enemy to have been defeated. This is why the religious texts nowadays are no longer very accurate. Nobody wants to hear that the Dark Days could come again'.

Falk looked quickly over at Uldini who nodded back at him.

'To provide certainty that the arrival of a chosen one would be noticed by us, a ritual was created that found its way into the Spring Ceremony. Centuries passed and nothing happened, the peoples of the creation began to feel safe, and the importance of the ritual faded from memory, as did the threat that the sleeping spell of the enemy would not last forever. Nobody thought at that time that the gods would need more than seven hundred years to gather the strength to dream up a new Paladin'.

Ahren listened intently. Much of what he had heard was new, exactly as Falk had said. Keeper Jegral's official version of the events had revealed little of this.

Falk looked at him expectantly. He had stopped marching, as had the others. Even Culhen seemed to be looking up at him. Had he missed something?

When Ahren didn't react, Falk continued. 'The ritual allowed for the stone of the gods to show a sign if the Paladin-to-be touched it during the Spring Festival'.

A nervous silence descended on the group while everybody waited for Ahren to draw the necessary conclusions. Several heartbeats passed during which his reason simply refused to function or to follow the logical chain of events to its inevitable conclusion.

'You all think that I…' he finally managed to utter weakly at before trailing off. The idea was too absurd and the consequences were too enormous.

Falk pressed Ahren to him, something he had only done once or twice before since he had known him.

'I'm sorry, boy', he whispered.

Uldini looked fixedly over Falk's shoulder at Ahren during this embrace and said, 'you are going to be the future thirteenth Paladin and save the world as we know it, or die trying. Maybe even before your Naming if we stand around here cuddling each other in a dark forest'.

Ahren shook his head. His thoughts were spinning around in a circle. He, a Paladin? Those two had to be crazy. 'What do you mean 'Naming'?'

Uldini took over the talking. He obviously wanted to get the thing over with so they could move on.

'The awakening of a Paladin involves three steps. Firstly, the birth. Secondly, the selection, in order to see if the successor is worthy. This used to be a formality, as the descendants of the previous Paladins were the chosen ones. Once the selection was made, the power of the outgoing Paladin would begin to pass over to the chosen child. And that was our dilemma. HE had killed the father and the son, so the power of the thirteenth was lost'. He cleared his throat. 'Thirdly, the Naming, once adulthood was reached. The Einhan requested the blessing of the gods for the aspirant and he or she received the gifts of the THREE: immortality, soul-animal and godly armour – and then we had a new Paladin. All were happy and the predecessor could die at last'. He looked at the apprentice with a twinkle in his eye. 'You've already passed two of the three steps. Unfortunately the last step is somewhat more complicated, not least because you cannot receive your power from your predecessor. The selection released the power. It will be anchored in you when you are named'.

'What do I have to do?' asked Ahren curiously, although he feared the answer.

'You don't have to do anything apart from accompany us. We'll find the Einhan and take it from there', said Falk in a comforting voice.

There was that word again: Einhan.

'What are the Einhan?' asked Ahren. Every answer seemed to throw up a new question, something Uldini recognized too. There was scorn in his voice again when he answered.

'Each is a specific representative of people, elves and the dwarves, and they intercede for you before their god. Which, by the way, will never happen if we're caught by a pack of Low Fangs here in the forest'.

Falk nodded to the wizard and they all went on, the old man leading a dazed Ahren by the arm. Lost in thought he stumbled through the darkness and kept thinking over what he had just heard. Hours passed before they finally stopped. In front of them was a dense thicket of blackthorn, a particularly hardy plant, named after the dark hooks that could be found all over its resilient tendrils. Animals avoided these plants as they were practically inedible and difficult to penetrate. However, they usually stood alone and Ahren had never seen so many together.

'Wait here', grunted Falk and drew his sword. Ahren looked at his mentor in amazement as he began to hack down the thicket with fluid movements. Falk had always drummed into his apprentice a respect for nature and pointed out to Ahren how he should behave towards plants and animals. Now the old man was standing in front of him and slashing all before him. Once he had hacked the plants to pieces, he pulled out an enormous, heavy oilskin sack with a groan, and carefully began to undo it. He responded to Ahren's look of shock with a shrug of his shoulders and the explanation, 'I planted them to protect my things. The plants were in the wrong place here anyway and were beginning to choke the forest'.

'The elves have made you soft, old man' said Uldini.

Falk shrugged his shoulders and carried on. 'Why don't you throw out a magic net and see how near the danger is. This here is going to take a while but we'll be all the faster afterwards'.

The wizard paused, then nodded, and began murmuring quietly and staring into his ball, which started to emit warm yellow rays of light. Ahren sank down at the foot of a tree and gazed into the distance, thinking again of all the things he had heard and experienced. Culhen came to him, rested his muzzle on his knees and began to whimper until the young man started tickling him in the neck absent-mindedly. The familiar contact with his furry friend had a soothing effect on his nerves and he gradually nodded off.

How much time had passed before he woke up, he couldn't tell, but he knew what had woken him. Falk and Uldini were just finishing a heated debate, the wizard's ball was still emitting light. A strange picture presented itself to Ahren. Falk had not only put on the familiar armour for legs, arms and neck, but also a light breastplate and a knight's helmet made from the same whitish material as the rest of the armour. The way the pieces all fitted showed that they belonged together and made up one piece. The armour looked very old-fashioned and the helmet was engraved in the form of a stylized falcon's head. Falk was in the process of rubbing ash onto the new pieces so that they would look worn and worthless too.

But Selsena had made the most dramatic transformation. A broad, white, leather saddle with matching saddle-bags adorned her back. The upper part of her body was covered with metal panels made from the same material as Falk's armour, and her head was in a metal helmet that enclosed her forehead and horns, so it looked as if these were features of martial equine body armour. The Titejunanwa looked like a strong but standard war horse in an exotic suit of armour.

Falk was finished with disfiguring his own armour and now approached the Elven horse. The chorus of disapproval she emitted grew louder and louder and was now physically palpable, as if a thousand ants were scurrying over Ahren's body. Culhen gave a low yelp and Falk shouted at the magical horse, 'you wanted to go back into the story. You've been sulking since time immemorial and now you've found your will. So, stay still'. The feelings ebbed away and Falk, undeterred, began to transform Selsena's proud war horse into an impoverished nag and relic from a bygone heroic era.

Uldini was giving orders on how to improve things further and seemed to be enjoying the whole experience.

Ahren pulled himself up and walked over.

'What does all this mean?' he asked.

'We want to journey through Three Rivers and head up north from there, past the Red Posts as far as Evergreen. Falk is going to be a wandering knight escorting yours truly, an alumnus of the lesser nobility, while you and your 'dog' are our guides in this region'.

Mention of the places that Ahren only knew from the stories was like a slap in the face and the serenity with which he had woken up disappeared in a puff of smoke. The impossibility of the situation felt like a millstone around his neck and he heard himself asking, 'and what if I don't want to go with you?'

Forest Guardian and Wizard gave him a searching look and his master was about to issue him with a sharp rebuke when the little man raised his hand. 'No, old man, I'll take care of this. Firstly, no-one can force you. A Naming can never be made against the will of the chosen one. That would presuppose force and goes against the nature of the THREE'.

Ahren nodded. That was only logical. In all the stories where great victories were won against the Betrayer, free will had played a decisive part. Rule and force were the tools of HIM WHO FORCES.

The wizard continued, 'but it is nonetheless important that you understand one thing. The magic spell that is holding him captive is fading. That's a fact. It has been getting weaker since the day you were born, and this process has quickened since your selection. HE can only work through his servants and his orders are diffuse and poorly focused. But the more he awakens, the clearer they become. You can hide away or spend your short life on the run but eventually the Dark Ones will find you and kill you, and the world will have no chance against HIM WHO FORCES'. Uldini didn't need to explain the rest. Ahren understood that he had no other option but to accept the role. And anyway, something inside him harmonized with the words of the master wizard, washing away all doubts regarding his mission.

Ahren knew that he had to fight, whether he wanted to or not.

They spent the rest of the night in the protection of the trees. The wizard's magic had shown that they were in no immediate danger and it wouldn't be long until daybreak anyway. Ahren hadn't believed that he would be able to fall asleep again that night but his decision not to run away from the future events had a strangely calming effect on him and he dropped off within a few heartbeats.

The two adults looked at the brown-haired young man whose face was free from all worry as he slept.

'You have a fine young boy there under your wing, old man', said Uldini softly. Falk grunted under his breath, 'I know, but don't let him hear it. He has a very long and dangerous way to go yet and it would be better if he kept his two feet firmly on the ground'.

'If we know anything, we know about long ways, isn't that right?'

'Yes, you're right there. What are the other Ancients up to? There's been hardly any news from you for centuries'. Falk looked at the magus with interest.

'I gave out a new doctrine in the third century after the Betrayer's fall when it became clear that the matter would take a while longer. The peoples were beginning to forget so we pulled back and didn't engage as much as in earlier times. In this way old wounds could heal more quickly and we could move more freely. The others still like practising their little power games but I find things like that boring', answered Uldini.

Falk nodded knowingly. Of course his counterpart wouldn't enjoy that. Who wanted to play a game that he'd already won centuries previously. The others had been tussling over second place since forever.

'You know you're going to have to come clean with him soon, don't you?' asked the wizard. 'He'll find out at the Naming by the latest, and that wouldn't be the best way'.

Falk nodded. 'I'll talk to him before that. But he needs to digest this first. We need to sleep for a bit too. Selsena will stand guard'.

The little boy figure nodded and the light in the crystal ball went out. The forest lay in darkness and soon all were asleep.

Ahren woke up to the sounds of an argument. The little boy and the old man were shouting at each other, their faces red. The newly awakened apprentice watched the two in amusement. They looked like a grandfather and a cheeky and disobedient grandson. When he felt the soft and amused waves coming from Selsena, he knew he wasn't the only one who found the scene amusing.

'It's a massive detour and you know that! If we follow your route, we'll have to go right across the Knight Marshes twice. That will cost us weeks', shouted Falk and waved his arms.

Uldini responded forcefully. 'You're just trying to delay the meeting with Jelninolan but that makes even less sense. If we go to the Silver Cliff first, then we also have to go to Kelkor to trap the Finder of the Path. Do you really want to go into Evergreen with a dwarf and one of the Wild Folk?'

Ahren sighed. He had hoped that after the previous day's revelations the conversations between them would make more sense, but he was obviously mistaken. Culhen yawned and stretched out beside him and then he began to sniff the rucksacks.

Uldini had brought their few belongings when they had left the village but there was nothing edible among them. The two were still squabbling with each other and so Ahren decided to make himself useful by going hunting. He slapped his knee once and Culhen was immediately by his side. Ahren looked into his eyes and Culhen sat on his hind legs and looked questioningly at his master with his head tilted to the side and his ears pricked. 'Culhen, search!' said the young Forest Guardian.

The white wolf spun around with a low bark and leaped into the undergrowth. Ahren followed him at a distance and watched as his companion ran zigzag through the forest, his nose sometimes in the air, sometimes to the ground. Then he found a fresh scent and began to follow it. Ahren ran after him and the hunt was on.

He returned to their temporary camp an hour later with two rabbits hanging from his belt. The yield was less than he had hoped for but Culhen and he had only hunted on their own three times previously and so they had been unsuccessful several times this morning. The fact that Culhen with his white fur was more at home in the tundra and the frozen north didn't help matters either during the hunt.

But at least they had enough sustenance for the day and Ahren had also collected some herbs so that they had enough ingredients for a good stew. Ahren had bled out the third animal and given it to his four-legged friend who chewed around it fussily until it became clear to him that there was nothing else to eat. Then he gulped down the rabbit in next to no time.

The two squabblers had sunk into a sullen silence and hadn't noticed the young Forest Guardian at all when he returned with Culhen. Once Ahren had lit the fire and prepared the stew, they came back to life. The smells of the food drew them to the fire and Falk grunted, 'so you did learn something', as he filled himself a large bowl and began to eat.

Uldini smelled at the stew simmering in the little metal pot and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

'Well, if it doesn't work out with saving the world, you can always try your hand at being a cook'. Ahren looked at the little wizard in consternation. Uldini continued in the same lighthearted tone. 'Stop staring at me so wide-eyed. When you get to my age, you've no choice but to develop this sort of sense of humour'.

Then he helped himself and also enjoyed it. Once they had all had their fill, Ahren asked, 'is Deepstone safe now?'

After the attack of the previous night and the wizard's bleak pronouncements on hordes of Dark Ones, he wanted to be sure that his home village would be left in peace, before he turned his back on the place.

Uldini seemed to grasp what he was getting at. 'No need to worry. I hid the two other boys that took part in last year's ceremony from the traitor's eyes. That was quick and easy as they were of no importance. HIS senses are still very groggy, otherwise HE would have recognized immediately who represents the real danger, and all the Fog Cats would have chased you and you alone. After my little firework display last night we have become the sole focus of the Adversary'.

This led Ahren onto his second question. 'Why are you two so quiet now. It was a completely different story last night.' He shifted position nervously.

'I think we have to thank the old Blood Wolf for that. Your master only told me about her this morning. The magic web that I wove last night detected no Dark Ones in the vicinity. Falk and I think that the old woman drove everything away that could have been dangerous to her pup'.

'And the Fog Cats, where did they come from?' Ahren wanted to understand what exactly had happened.

'They were sent out the moment you were selected. That pack was probably the greatest danger nearby, and even they took over a week to get to you. I think we're safe for the next two or three days as long as I don't do any major magic which might reveal our location'.

'So the Dark Ones can sense your magic?' Ahren pressed on.

'Only the very intelligent ones but they then pass it on to their less intelligent counterparts. But HE notices the magic too, depending on what HE might be listening to at the time. HIS attention is just as groggy and somnambulistic as HIS sight. That's our greatest advantage for the moment'.

Falk cleared his throat. 'That's enough talk for the moment. We need to get cracking, or we'll never get anywhere'.

'Where exactly are we going?' asked Ahren curiously.

Suddenly there was a tension in the air as the Forest Guardian and the wizard stared venomously at each other. Uldini spoke in a remarkably diplomatic voice. 'First we can head towards Three Rivers. That's the nearest big town and we can pick up provisions and weaponry there. Three Rivers is a good starting point, no matter which way we go after that'. Falk was placated and nodded in agreement as the three broke camp.


Ahren brooded to himself as he walked quickly beside Selsena, trying not to fall behind. They were on a wide dirt road, typical of the travel routes in Hjalgar. They had left the Eastern Forest and were now heading northwards. They were hardly clear of the trees when Uldini abandoned his normal floating.

'We don't want to attract attention', he said. Falk then mounted Selsena's back, picked up Uldini, planted him in front of him on the saddle and then they carried on without saying a word, leaving Ahren open-mouthed in their wake. He ran in pursuit, swallowing dust, and demanded an explanation but received none. And so he ran beside them in a foul mood and with sweat running down his back. The sun shone brightly in a clear sky and intimated that summer was on the way.

After a while Falk relented and explained the situation to Ahren. 'We're playing our parts. I'm the paid escort, this is my charge and you're our guide in the wilderness. Only speak if you have to, leave the talking to us'.

Ahren could only nod, he was too tired to start an argument. He could understand the reasoning but it didn't make the role he had to play any easier.

He was surprised how effective their disguise seemed to be when they started encountering other travellers. Hardly anyone took notice of them. There were one or two curious glances at Selsena's and Falk's exotic armour but Falk had taken care to make it appear so dilapidated that everyone passed by quickly without exchanging a word.

Ahren seemed practically invisible and so he had all the time in the world to study the various figures they encountered. The travelling merchants made up the largest proportion, most of them on their own or in pairs on carts filled with all kinds of bundles and boxes or covered with canvas. They all shot suspicious looks and quite a few were armed with daggers, one even had a crossbow. The wealthier merchants had one or two guards with them who made the same impression as Falk did. None of them carried a broadsword, rather truncheons or short swords. There were several envious glances in the direction of the massive blade, now in the scabbard affixed to Selsena's flank.

When a pair of scruffy figures, who were travelling the road without any merchants, examined them particularly intensely, Falk mumbled, 'I don't like this. There should only be a few peddlers around here'.

Uldini answered quietly, 'you've spent too long hiding in the forest, old man. Highway robberies have become more common and there have been more forays coming from the Border Lands, be they Borderlanders or Low Fangs'.

Ahren looked up, shocked. The Border Lands was the large area which surrounded the Pall Pillar. The Adversary was lying there in chains cast by the magic spell, trapped in silence and smoke. Only the daring or desperate lived there. The rate of miscarriages and stillbirths went up, the nearer one came to the crater which had been blown up when the magic spell released its power and the physical manifestation of the Betrayer, who had been fighting and slaughtering to the last moment, was forced to the ground. No-one knew exactly how deep the crater was, for from that day smoke had been rising from the place where HE WHO FORCES now existed, and as Ahren well knew, bided his time. Nobody dared to enter, and anyone who had, came out again as the Adversary's servant. There were enough tales of bold heroes who had tried it, only to be horribly transformed into Low Fangs who hunted down their nearest and dearest. Ahren was on the point of asking how true these stories really were but he'd had his fill of unpalatable truths for the day and so he stayed silent.

Falk quietly answered Uldini. 'From what we know already, these ambushes are no surprise. The Border Lands will fall under HIS control sooner or later no matter what we do'.

The apprentice shuddered when he heard these words. Thousands of people lived in this area that no power had claimed for its own. No kingdom wanted the cursed place within their dominion. The travelling merchants who came to Deepstone reported that it was populated by eccentric wizards, maverick farmers or those who had been up to no good and couldn't return to civilization.

'Couldn't we warn them?' asked Ahren.

'They wouldn't listen to us. Nobody would believe our story of returning villains and there's no ruler we can speak to. And we can hardly traipse from one farmyard to the next. We can only hope that common sense will lead them away from there before it's too late'.

Ahren remembered that his father had originally come from the Border Lands and suddenly he was grateful that his father had had the presence of mind to choose Deepstone as his new home. He trotted on beside Selsena and looked uneasily at the wayside as they passed through a little wood, afraid that a band of highway robbers might ambush their little group.

By evening Ahren was exhausted and bathed in sweat from all the running. Falk said to him, 'if you're in luck, old Giesbert's farmyard inn is still in existence. Years ago they used to have sleeping quarters and good food. Not a real hostel but more luxury than setting up camp on the side of the road'.

Ahren nodded wearily and went on in silence. Even Culhen was panting loudly and his tongue was hanging out. Ahren patted him on the head in sympathy and they climbed the hill that their road passed over. From the top the little group could see a shallow valley lying sleepily in the late evening spring sunshine. There were rows of fields, and canals brought the precious water to every corner of the valley. A two-storey estate house dominated the landscape, surrounded by a variety of huts and barns. Ahren was astonished and Falk gave a whistle. 'They've certainly gone up in the world', he said approvingly and directed Selsena onwards.

'Is that all the one farm?' asked the surprised apprentice and Falk nodded.

'Absolutely. If the farm keeps growing like that, it's going to turn into a proper village. Deepstone must have started exactly the same way but without the trade road of course. The Eastern Forest provides for us instead'.

They approached the big farm with a feeling of contentment and then Ahren saw two lookout platforms. Standing on each was a sentry with a crossbow. They rode directly under one of the sentries, a red-haired woman who gave them a warm greeting and then turned her attention back to the range of hills.

Falk nodded, satisfied. 'We can certainly sleep here. It will do us all good'.

They stopped at the Main House and Falk dismounted and then lifted Uldini off, very much the hired mercenary and servant to a noble son and heir. The wizard behaved in such a regal manner that all the workers bowed before him as they hurried by. Ahren was invisible as always. He threw his eyes up to heaven and was about to follow the others when Falk looked over his shoulder to him and barked an order. 'Boy, take care of the horse!' Then he disappeared inside. The apprentice looked after his master blankly for a heartbeat, then took Selsena by the reins and went to the stables, which could already be smelt from this distance. He cursed quietly to himself. Selsena was empathetically convulsed with laughter and this made the apprentice even angrier. He led her into her box and took off her saddle and bags as well as the body armour, which was surprisingly light. Only her headgear stayed on, to hide her true identity. Then he quickly and half-heartedly groomed the mare. Her dirt-repellant coat made this work unnecessary anyway, and thanks to her three hearts, she didn't even break into a sweat when she was galloping. She transmitted her gratitude to him nevertheless and he gently patted her neck.

'I still haven't thanked you for Culhen's salvation', he whispered quietly. 'So, thank you very much'. Warmth and joy flooded through him and Culhen came running and barking into the box, as he scampered delightedly around her legs. Ahren was enjoying this moment when he heard a voice behind him.

'Are you a new stable boy?'

Ahren spun around in shock, brandishing his dagger, only to withdraw it sheepishly when he realized that the voice belonged to a girl, maybe one summer younger than he was. 'You really don't look like a groom', she continued, unfazed.

'I'm a Forest Guardian', he said before cursing silently as he remembered his cover story. 'I earn my keep as a guide in the wilderness', he added quickly as he scrutinized the girl opposite. She was small, certainly a head shorter than he was, and her clever eyes shone from her freckled face. Her simple linen dress suggested that she worked somewhere on the farm. She looked at him with equal directness and Ahren noticed a certain similarity to the sentry he had seen up on the wooden platform. Perhaps that was her mother, he thought to himself.

'But you'd be a good groom. The horse is really shiny, even though you've just come in', she saw in amazement. She smiled at him and Ahren smiled back, a little embarrassed and a lot less elegantly.

'Ah', he said and thought, what's wrong with me?

She stepped closer. 'Can I stroke your horse? I've never seen a colour like that'.

Ahren wanted to say, 'that's not my horse, and the owner definitely wouldn't approve'. But what came out was, 'sure, why not?'

She beamed at him and put both hands around Selsena's neck, who glared at Ahren and made him very much aware of her displeasure.

'She's very soft…but, what about her eyes, they're really silver', remarked the girl.

Ahren winced. 'She's terribly old already and that's why her eyes are cloudy'.

Selsena was really angry now and he stepped back out of the box to be on the safe side. Luckily, the girl released her hold of the Elven horse and followed him. He closed the box hurriedly and leaving the irritated mare behind, he smiled awkwardly at the girl.

'What's your name?' he asked, in an effort to deflect attention from the so-called horse.

'Miriam. And you?' she answered gaily.

Smitten by her breath-taking smile, it took him a heartbeat to answer the question. 'Ahren', he said finally. He scrambled for something innocuous to talk about, but Miriam was already asking the next question.

'Have you travelled far?'

'No, this is my first job. I've only finished my apprenticeship'. He was quite proud of himself that he had stuck as closely to the truth as was possible.

'Oh, right', sighed the girl, disappointed, and looked as if she was about to go. The temptation to show off a little so she would stay was too great.

'But we want to go to Evergreen to the elves, and then on to the Silver Cliff, where the dwarves live'. His words were incredibly effective. Her eyes lit up and her wonderful smile reappeared. 'Then we'll head on to Kelkor. We're bound to run into one or two giants', he added in a deliberately casual manner.

'Why do you have to go there? That sounds like a terribly long journey', she said, agitated.

Now Ahren had to be careful. Everything he had said up to this point fitted in with their cover story. 'I'm accompanying a noble youth who wants to see the places he heard about in his favourite stories. He has a cranky bodyguard with him who's making my life hell'. That was partly true as well and he began to feel a little more self-confident.

'I know how that feels. I have to help out in the kitchen until I'm allowed to be a sentry. The cook, well, she's horribly mean to me', complained Miriam.

Ahren nodded eagerly. 'My master was exactly the same. One time he made me collect knotted ribbons from a tree in the pouring rain'.

And for the next hour they swapped stories of their experiences at the hands of their hard-hearted teachers and they laughed and complained in equal measure. Ahren was dimly aware that Selsena would tell Falk of the apprentice's less than flattering descriptions of his master, but the undivided attention that the charming Miriam was giving him, made it worth any future trouble. He felt happy and free from all his cares and the time just went flying by.

Eventually Miriam looked at the position of the sun, threw her arms around Ahren's neck and said, 'I really have to go now. Thanks for the lovely stories'. Then she gave him a kiss and ran out giggling. Ahren stood rooted to the spot and stared after her, overwhelmed by the unexpected kiss. He left the barn and looked after the redheaded girl until she disappeared behind a house. Should he run after her? Was this a complicated game whose rules he didn't understand? While he was standing there, he caught a glimpse of something moving in the corner of his eye. The redheaded woman on the lookout platform was watching him with a murderous look. Slowly she raised her crossbow until she zeroed in on him. He raised his hands and took two steps back until her line of fire was hidden by the barn door. He decided in a moment of wisdom that it would be best to wait here for the others. Meanwhile Selsena was flooding him with waves of mirth.

When it was early evening Falk marched into the barn with a surprised look. He brought with him a bowl of cheese, ham and hard boiled eggs which he handed to Ahren.

'Why did you stay outside? I only sent you away as part of our disguise. Of course you can come in to eat', he said and glanced at the wolf. 'But Culhen had better stay with Selsena'. The wolf whimpered in protest for a second before trotting over to the box where he settled himself down.

'It was so nice out here', said Ahren lamely.

Falk breathed in through his nose deliberately. The air reeked of horse manure, stale sweat and leather. Then he tilted his head to the side and listened to Selsena's remarks. Falk was still laughing heartily after two dozen heartbeats and Ahren was blushing deeply. At last his master quietened down and clapped his protégé on the shoulder. 'Come on in, I'll cover for you'. He threw his arm around his apprentice and pulled him out into the open. He caught the sentry's eye and nodded at the woman. She winked in acknowledgement and stared off at the horizon.

'You still have a lot to learn. We have to thank our lucky stars that the Adversary isn't a woman or we might as well give up now'. Then he started to laugh again. Ahren ignored him as much as possible. They entered the taproom of the manor. It was furnished with rows of long benches and tables running parallel to each other. It seemed as though tree trunks had simply been halved and smoothed and then hammered into place as table legs.

The room was populated by guests similar to the travellers he had seen on their journey here. The room was partially lit by two oil lamps at the back of the room and also by the evening spring sunshine which bathed the room in a warm yellow glow. The apprentice reckoned that there was enough room for half the population of Deepstone.

The Forest Guardian made a beeline past the benches to the woman of the manor who greeted him with a friendly nod. Then he led Ahren up a staircase at the back of the room. Once they reached the landing at the top of the stairs Ahren could see an enormous dormitory behind an archway, but Falk opened one of the two doorways in front that led left and right away from the dormitory. He indicated to him to go in. There was a small, plain looking room with two beds, a table and two chairs in front of a window. Ahren entered.

Falk closed the door behind him and said, 'it's a bit conspicuous, renting the two single rooms, but this way we can talk undisturbed. And anyway, we both still have bloodstains on our leather jerkins – and you still have some behind your right ear'. Ahren checked with his hand and felt a large crust, which fell off as soon as he touched it.

Falk pulled a bottle of wine from his jerkin and put it on the table.

'Eat something first and drink. You'll get water later to wash yourself and to rinse things. Don't you dare finish the bottle!'

Then the old man was gone and Ahren was alone and unobserved for the first time in ages. He enjoyed the feeling and decided to make the best of the opportunity.

Night fell and at last Ahren felt himself again. Of course he had become accustomed to the hardships that adventuring with Falk brought with it, but it was a different story travelling along this dusty dirt road and becoming over tired and baked in filth. He had eaten and drunk well while Falk had tended to Culhen. Then he had washed himself and afterwards given his clothing a thorough rinse. Then he had mended the worst of the tears that the Fog Cats had made with their claws. Now he was lying on the bed and could hear the unfamiliar sounds coming from the dormitory. He had become so accustomed to the silence of the forest that he was very aware of the noise so many people in close proximity were making. He could hear snatches of conversation as he thought about his exciting conversation with Miriam. Where was she now and what was she doing? Was she thinking about him too? His thoughts swirled around in circles until he dropped off to sleep.

He woke up with a start. He could hear a noise which sounded like leather straps slapping off each other. It was pitch black and after a few heartbeats Ahren realized that the sound was coming from outside and was coming through the slits in the window blinds. Falk had returned at some point in the evening and was fast asleep in the bed beside his, and so Ahren slipped quietly from the bed and crept to the window. He peeked out through the crack between the shutters.

Wisps of cloud were floating across the night sky and the moon was shining weakly. Whatever this strange sound was, it was coming from above them. He tilted his head sideways so he could see upwards out the gap. The noise seemed to be travelling. Dozens of shadows seemed to be moving past over the manor and across Ahren's limited vision. He could see dozens of winged figures, which were making the sound. Ahren blinked and tried to make out the creatures' characteristics, but they were too far away, and the light was too weak.

Maybe bats…, thought Ahren just as a shadow flew directly past the shutters. Ahren saw leather wings, birds' claws and burning red eyes when suddenly a calloused hand grasped his shoulder and yanked him backwards. He was just able to stifle a cry when he recognized Falk, who pushed him under the table and hid himself too as best he could. There was a scratching on the window sill outside and then the shutters started to rattle. Whatever was outside, it was trying to get in. Ahren caught sight of the small wrought-iron hook that held the shutters closed. A beak had pushed its way into the gap in the shutters and was trying to push up the hook. To his horror Ahren could see in the weak moonlight, teeth flashing in the beak.

A metallic scratching sound to his left revealed to Ahren that Falk had drawn his dagger. His own, unfortunately, was on the other side of the room, lying on his carefully folded clothing. He looked back and forth between that thing that wanted to get in and his dagger, trying to decide if he should risk the movement. The noise of the heavy leather wings became louder as the attacker's attempts to get in became more frantic, and then suddenly, it was all over.

The sound died away, and the shadow disappeared with an angry hiss. Falk sheathed his dagger with relief and looked at Ahren.

'Swarm Claws. That was too close for comfort'. He pulled himself up and stormed out of the room. Ahren crept out from under the table and followed him at a considerably slower pace and remembered back to his lessons. Swarm Claws were birds that the Adversary had perverted in a most horrible way. They earned their name through the oversized, razor-sharp claws on their feet and because they always attacked in swarms of more than a hundred. They didn't have plumage any more but were covered in a leathery skin. Their beaks were filled with barbed teeth. A Swarm Claw on its own was dangerous of course, but as it was only the size of a hawk, it could be easily beaten. But when they were in a swarm they became a veritable nightmare of flesh-eating beaks and claws. Ahren thought of the many black shadows he had seen in the sky. If the window had opened, they would be dead.

Hopefully Miriam is safe, he thought in a flash. But he hadn't heard any screams, and the swarm had moved on. He quickly suppressed the memories that instinctively came to mind, of Deepstone and the screams of the villagers.

A shudder ran through him and he hurried to catch up with Falk, who had stormed into the other room, which the wizard had to himself. Uldini was perched on the bed, his arms around his knees, and looked like a frightened little child. Until he opened his mouth.

'Close the door, old man', he hissed. Falk carried out his order as Ahren quickly slipped in. He didn't want to hear the conversation, nor did he want to be alone now. He hunkered quietly on one of the chairs and kept a nervous eye on the window.

'Damn it, Uldini, you said we were safe', scolded Falk.

'They were definitely beyond the reach of the magic net last night. They must have flown without a break tonight', said the Magus defensively. It was the first time Ahren had experienced the resolute Ancient on the back foot. 'You know how these things function. If I make the web too big, it's discovered and everything starts again. I was very careful yesterday', he continued.

Falk calmed down a little and said, 'the way they were flying, they were on a search mission for the three of us, so they were focusing their attention on human dwellings. That would suggest that at least Selsena and Culhen are safe as long as they don't attract attention to themselves. But imagine if we had set up camp in the open and they had caught us?'

He was met with an awkward silence. Ahren tried not to imagine being at the mercy of this wave of claws and teeth with no protection or possibility of escape.

'How do you fight against them?' he asked. Maybe it would calm him down if he knew they were beatable.

'With lots of arrows and casualties', answered Falk grimly.

That wasn't of much comfort. Uldini cleared his throat. 'Magic has also shown itself to be effective. Thankfully, there are only four or five swarms that we know of in all of Jorath'.

'They generally sleep throughout the day and only wake up with difficulty, so we're safe tomorrow during daylight. But we need to stay armed during the next few nights', said the old Forest Guardian firmly.

The wizard nodded, and Falk opened the door to the hall without saying another word. The private conversation was obviously over and Ahren followed him to their bedroom. They went back to their beds again but falling asleep was difficult for Ahren. When he did eventually drop off, he found himself being buffeted about by bloody claws that were were grasping at him in the darkness.