There was a war raging across town, but standing on the beach you might never know it. The sand was warm and soft under his toes as he walked along the beach that ran on the south side of the city near his family's castle. A wild wind crashed into him and made his brown locks cover his eyes. A storm was rolling in from the west and the beachgrass bowed in deference. A few miles up ahead, he could see massive sails set against the grayed sky. He squinted to see them better and took off running in the opposite direction, into the city of Almsway toward the western wall.

Running along the top of the city wall was a much more challenging endeavor than Christian had anticipated. Men from Almsway were everywhere, dodging arrows, bullets, and everything else Malacion was firing their way. Some parts of the wall were crumbling away as it was blasted by cannonballs and battered with large logs from below. But the boy was on a mission: he had to find his father so he could deliver important information. At last he caught sight of Maddox Young, his father's right hand man.

"Maddox!" he shouted over the sound of the raging battle around them. "Maddox, have you seen my father?" he asked as he came closer.

Maddox turned to him with a surprised glance, followed by a stern frown. "You shouldn't be here; it's dangerous."

Christian shrugged, unconcerned. "I'm almost sixteen. You can't hide me from it much longer anyway. But my father?" he pressed.

His elder raised an eyebrow at his stubborn attitude, but he pointed in the right direction anyway. "He was up ahead, by the gate. Just keep going the way you are. But he won't be pleased to find you here, either," Maddox chided.

Christian didn't pay him much heed as he sprinted off further down the wall, almost running into one of the soldiers as they reloaded one of the small cannons aimed out the battlements. The man yelled something nasty after him, but he didn't listen. Up ahead, a large portion of the walkway fell to the ground below. He slowed down, unsure of how to proceed, but some of the soldiers laid a panel of wood out across the empty space. He crossed it without hesitation and despite further warnings of danger from the men. It was important that he made it to the gate; the sails he had witnessed docking on the coast of Arcavis bore the four-pointed compass star of Imperial Malacion.

Finally, he could see the form of the city gate coming into view and beside it, just as Maddox had said, his father was addressing one of the defenders of Almsway. He was a figure to be reckoned with, larger than most of the other men Christian had passed on the way, with broad shoulders and silvering hair to announce his veteran status. As he drew nearer, he heard his father say, "…get as many out as you can, but once it becomes too dangerous, there are some women preparing shelter in the center of the city."

"Yes, m'lord," the man nodded obediently and took the ladder down the wall to carry out his instructions.

"Father," Christian began, but was returned with a furious glare.

"What are you doing outside of the Grounds?" Sir Andrew Calder asked gruffly. His silver eyebrows matted together in anger for his son's disobedience, shadowing the slate eyes that so matched Christian's. "You could be killed out here."

"Yes, sir, I suppose you're right," the boy answered with a nod. "But Father, I was walking on the shores outside the Grounds and"—

"Do you mean to further insult me by saying you've been out this whole time? When I ask you to stay put, I would prefer that you listen," Sir Calder growled.

"But sir, I saw ships. Malacionic ships. They've called in help, sir." Christian spat it out, as though the words tasted horrible on his tongue, anxious to get them out before he was interrupted again.

His father's eyes grew distant, focusing instead on the scene behind his son. Almsway was hardly holding Malacion back as it was; how could they keep it up if the tempest would only grow stronger? "Get back to the Grounds," he said at last.

"Father, can't I help?" he begged. After all the blood and death and destruction he had seen on his way, it pained Christian to sit at home and do nothing. Especially as the son of a knight.

"Do as I say," Sir Andrew demanded. "I'll join you there soon enough. If you want to help, prepare all the battle stations with ample supplies. Lucas should already be working at it."

Christian nodded in defeat and exited down the same ladder the soldier before had used. The city was unusually empty on the western side. Only a few people remained, steadily packing bags in the hopes of escaping with their lives. If Almsway was to follow the example of previous Arcavian cities, Malacion would first ransack the residential districts, taking hostages in the process. Then they would move toward the markets and steal anything they deemed useful. And as for the family and crew of knights? Either do the Emperor's bidding or lose your head. The only places that were safe anymore were buildings of worship. And in fact, many of the citizens of Almsway had already claimed the Credic church in the town square as their own personal shelter.

It was a lonely walk back to Calder Grounds on the southern shore. Still he could see the sails and navy flag of the Emperor's ship docked by the harbor. He wanted more than anything to see what these new arrivals were up to, but he knew his father would be livid if he disobeyed him a second time. Deciding not to press his luck, he continued on to the castle.

He could see his friend Lucas working busily in the ramparts above. Lucas was Maddox's son and older than Christian by two years. He was tall and lanky with chin-length chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. Like his father, he was a loyal companion to the House of Calder and would do anything for them. He'd been raised up alongside Christian like a brother and was the closest friend he'd ever had.

As he entered the doors of the Grounds, his mother Sarah attacked him with a warm embrace. Her face was wet with tears that continued to stream down from her eyes. "I was so worried about you! Where have you been?" she wept.

"Mother, I'm fine," he assured her and returned her hug. "I didn't mean to make you worry; I'm sorry. Don't cry."

She sniffled and finally released him, drawing her handkerchief to her eyes. She was a gentle woman, not made for war. Her marriage to a knight of Arcavis had been rough on her as she fretted and prayed for her husband's safe return these long decades of combat with Malacion. Now that the Emperor's Great Conquest had come closer to home, she had spent most of her time at the Credic church and in their own chapel at home, trying to strike deals with God.

Christian wiped away some of the tears on her face and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Everything will turn up fine. You'll see," he lied. It wasn't that he enjoyed being dishonest with his mother, but somehow that hurt less than the fear he saw on her face. "Father bade me help Lucas with the preparations," he told her.

"Fine," she nodded. "I'll be in the chapel if you need me. Please don't stray again?"

"Of course not," Christian promised with a smile. He made his way through the inner courtyard and up the stone staircase to the third floor where Lucas was still working diligently. "How can I help?" he asked.

But his friend was a little sour with his previous absence as well, it seemed. "You could start by doing what you're told and not running off to battle. I swear, do you never use your head?"

Christian dragged his foot on the stones, his head bowed in open regret. "Sorry, I…."

"Don't worry about it," Lucas answered. Then as a second thought, he asked, "Did… did you see my father out there? Is he alright?" Christian nodded and relief washed over his face. "There are a few more boxes of weaponry down in the armory. Could you start bringing them up?"

—

Doom came upon Almsway in the form of the foreboding ships Christian had witnessed on their shores. Its cargo: a large company of the Emperor's menacing Heildat, soldiers born and bred for tearing nations apart from the foundation. The Heildat were Malacion's ultimate weapon; many of them were of Sarivandic ancestry, giant masses of military prowess and lethal cunning. The best of the imperial best.

It was midday when Malacion finally forced an opening in the city wall and the Arcavian soldiers met them on the ground, determined to defend their homes to the very end. There was no form, there was no plan, there was only chaos and senseless bloodshed. They sliced at each other for hours before Sir Andrew and Maddox returned to Calder Grounds to ready the next arena. A crewman had been sent to fetch Lucas at Andrew's request and Maddox's son was led to his master's study. "Y-you sent for me, sir?" he asked cautiously from the doorway.

The study was small compared to the rest of the castle, but it was in keeping with the humble Calder sentiment that they were merely servant lords to a small farming community. The walls of the room were decked in some of Sir Calder's most prized weapons. In one corner hung a painting of his father, a courageous knight and a diplomat to the brilliant Cathiban culture. As for furnishings, Andrew preferred to keep things simple, supplying only a plain desk and two chairs; his wife Sarah was responsible for the Corovean area rug beneath them.

"Yes. Shut the door, please," Andrew responded and he obeyed. "I need you to do something for me. You won't like it."

"Anything, sir. Of course." But Lucas faked more courage than he felt.

Andrew motioned for him to sit down in the chair in front of his desk and he did so. "I need you to take two of the horses from the stable. Take Christian to Deepwalk. The sooner you leave, the better."

"But, sir, why? What's happened?"

The knight sighed heavily. "Nothing. Yet. But the Emperor's men have almost broken through the soldiers within the city. Soon, they'll arrive here at the Grounds. And I want you and my son to remain safe. I'd ask you to take Sarah as well, but the stubborn woman refuses to leave without me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Lucas nodded and stood to leave.

"Lucas?" Andrew asked and pulled his signet ring off his middle finger. "Take this and give it to Christian once you've arrived."

Now the boy was trembling, his face pale as he fixated on the gold and emerald band. The griffin imprinted on its face was still rearing its front paws in defiance of the dark future. "Sir, I can't do that."

"May I ask why?"

Lucas stared solemnly at the Calder crest in the knight's hand. "If I take that, it means you're… it means this is the end for you."

Andrew took Lucas's hand and placed the ring within. "I'm afraid so," he answered and met the boy's gaze with an honest gravity. "Please, do this last thing for me?"

The ring was heavy and warm in his palm; it felt foreign, like it knew it didn't belong to him. Lucas blinked back tears and placed the ring safely in his pants pocket, vowing to complete the man's last request. "Yes, sir," he choked before breaking down completely.
Andrew walked around the desk and pulled Lucas in close for a hug. "You'll be fine. Head for Deepwalk. The Bishops will care for the two of you."

—

When Lucas found Christian in his room, his tears had dried up, but his eyes were still red-rimmed and puffy. He'd found his father and said goodbye, then packed a meager bag of supplies from his room, the infirmary, and the kitchen. He'd brought with him one of the smaller swords, but only after internal debate over whether or not this simple blade might be the saving factor for his father and the House of Calder. With his bag slung over one shoulder, he said quietly, "C'mon, you need to pack a bag, too. We're going for a ride." Christian gave him a questioning glance. "Hurry!" he snapped. "We haven't much time." He needed to get this task finished before he changed his mind.

Christian hopped up and began gathering things into his own bag. His bed was a tangled mess of clothing and sheets topped with a few casual items such as books and the occasional shoe. Lucas wondered how he could find anything in that clutter. His floor was similarly littered with a variety of tools and even a few small weapons. "What should I bring? Where are we going?"

"Just… anything you can't live without. Pack lightly."

The other looked at him curiously again, still tucking things away in the bag. "You didn't answer the second question…."

Lucas laid his bag on Christian's bed with a thud. The knot in his stomach was starting to grow again. "I'll go ready the horses," he replied, not daring yet to answer Christian's request. He needed to get out of the room before tears welled up again. He left his friend in mid-protest, hurrying to the stables down in the courtyard. He untied two of the lighter-weight horses, one an ashy brown, the other dapple gray, and led them out into the yard, saddling them and preparing them for the trip.

Christian met him only moments later with both their supplies. Handing Lucas his, he climbed atop the chestnut steed without any more fuss, though his expression confessed a hesitancy. The two of them hurried out of Calder Grounds and through the alleys they knew so well in the southern parts of town along the coast. They turned sharply at the eastern wall and travelled alongside it until they reached the city gate. Much of the eastern wall was still intact, having received less attack from Malacion. Most of the Emperor's soldiers were within the city now, and they had no trouble leaving Almsway.

The forest outside was thick with summer foliage. Riding anywhere but the road was out of the question this time of year, at least if it was speed you were seeking. To either side of them, vines covered the ground and reached up to choke trees; up above, the vines reached from canopy to canopy, pulling the branches from either side of the road together in some places, so sky was hardly visible.

As they rode deeper and deeper into the wilderness, Christian began to suspect their destination. Still, he couldn't imagine that Lucas would abandon Almsway so easily. He glanced behind him toward the city where a pillar of smoke was now towering above them, not unlike the plumes he had seen over other Arcavian cities that had been destroyed in the years prior. "Where are you taking me?" Christian asked a third time over the thunk of his horse galloping through the forest after his best friend.
"To Deepwalk," Lucas called back curtly.

"What about the others?" When he didn't receive another answer, he pushed his horse for speed and caught up to Lucas's side. "What about my parents?"
"This was your father's request, Christian."

'My father's request'...?, Christian wondered. Why would he send me away? Almsway is my responsibility, too. He realized he had fallen behind and hurried the horse once more. "But everyone back there… everyone in Calder Grounds will be beheaded." As the full realization of the destruction of Almsway hit, he slowed his horse to a stop. He wanted to turn back, wanted to stand by his father.

Lucas rounded on him when he realized Christian wasn't following. "And what do you think you could do to stop it? If you return now, no embrace will await you but the silver sickle of death. Your father ordered this because he didn't want that for you. Will you disobey him again today?" Christian shook his head soberly. "Follow me, please. I'd like to get to Deepwalk as soon as possible. It doesn't feel safe out here in the middle of nowhere."

They rode for what seemed forever, though perhaps that was only because of the overwhelming dark events that loomed behind them. As nighttime fell, the trees closed in around them and Christian got the distinct feeling they were trying to strangle him. The creepier creatures of twilight began their nocturnal work and the forest on either side of the road came alive with the sounds of owls and bats and crickets. Already it had been a long day; the idea of riding all night didn't seem at all appealing to the young knight's son. Indeed, he thought he might collapse into sleep there on his horse. "Are we going to stop and rest at some point?" he asked with a sort of beg in his voice.

But Lucas wasn't listening. He was stopped in the middle of the road, still as a statue and looking off into the wood on their right. "Shh. I hear something out there," he whispered.

Christian shook his head awake again but his eyes refused to comply, choosing instead to conspire against him along with his aching back. "What kind of something?" he mumbled.
Lucas drew the sword he'd brought along and slid quietly off his horse. He'd never been seriously trained to use the weapon he carried, but he knew enough for essential defense. Still, his heart was jumping up through his throat, trying to abandon ship before whoever or whatever was lurking in the trees did real damage to his body. He looked back at Christian who had all but fallen asleep where he sat.

Honestly, he would rather have ducked down into the brush and hidden, but there was nowhere they could run and not be heard for all the vines on the ground. Instead, he pulled his horse down to a lying position, did the same for Christian's, and tugged the boy so he was sprawled out flat on the ground—with little protest in his slumbering state. He knelt down beside his own horse, praying  they wouldn't be heard or seen. He wasn't sure if he'd rather the entity be a man or an animal. On the one hand, an animal would be able to smell them despite his best efforts. But a man, especially a Malacionic soldier, would be likely to spot them. And if he spotted them, he'd kill them then and there, no questions asked.

The sounds of rustling in the bushes that had first alerted him came closer to the roadside some twenty feet ahead and in the moonlight Lucas caught sight of the shadowed figure of a man. He held his breath as the figure shook vines off his pants and boots. He heard Christian gasp behind him and Lucas froze, fearfully watching to see if the mysterious figure had heard the noise.

He had. The man began to walk toward them slowly and as he moved, Lucas deciphered his form, realizing he carried a blade at his side. Lucas swallowed, gathering his courage. Behind him, Christian was drawing a weapon as well. The two of them stood on their feet, terrified of what was about to happen. Lucas extended his sword out in front of him with shaking hands. "Stay back," he stammered.

The figure held his hands up gently. "Relax," he said, and the boys were grateful to hear an Arcavian accent. As his eyes adjusted to the shadows across the new arrival's face, Lucas saw a teenaged boy about his age with ivory skin and hair as black as the darkness of the wood from whence he came. He was shorter than Lucas, but built of stronger stuff and gifted with more useful skills. "My name is Kade Bishop, from the Sanctuary. We received notice earlier in the day to meet you along the road to Deepwalk." He nodded at Christian with a click of his tongue. "Stop weeping like a maiden and don't look so petrified. You call yourself a knight?"

Christian shook his head. "I'm not yet sixteen," he muttered quietly. "I call myself nothing." Lucas thought he saw a tearful glint in his eyes under the moon. "Luke, will we rest here, then?"

Kade moved to bring Lucas's horse back to its feet. "It's not safe to sleep out here. I've already come across a band of thieves, not to mention the chance of meeting a soldier of Malacion. We need to keep moving."

"There are only two horses," Lucas said pointedly.

"Are you at the mercy of the Otherworld's dreaming, too?" Kade asked and he shook his head. "Then share with him and let him sleep. If we keep going we can make it to Deepwalk by morning. There'll be rest there."

"Yes, sir," Lucas responded with a small bow.

They piled onto the two horses again, this time with Kade taking the lead. With the arrival of a more experienced fighter, Lucas felt more free to let their worries roll off his shoulders. He studied the stars above them and took his mind off the day's battle by locating the constellations he knew and searching for all the ones he'd heard of but never seen. He let the crickets sing him into a more peaceful state of mind as Christian nodded off gently behind him and even developed a light snore.

Occasionally, Kade would halt ahead of them and listen cautiously, but they never ran into any further danger. As Kade had predicted, the sun was rising from Mazakland when they arrived at the city walls of Deepwalk. The gatemen let them pass through with the son of Sir Karryhs Bishop and the travellers made their way through to the center of the city. Christian roused as their horses slowed through town, awakened by the early sounds of the citizens rising to their daily business.

In the heart of Deepwalk towered the Bishop's Sanctuary, not unlike Calder Grounds in architectural style, but much, much taller. Lucas half-imagined that in its construction, the builders had sought to build their way into heaven. The castle was built up from a circular courtyard and base with layer upon layer of round stories, the occasional pointed tower branching off and rising through multiple layers. It all culminated in one fiercely sharp peak high above them.

Once again, the gatemen waved them through and on the other side they were met by Sir Bishop himself. Kade slid off Lucas's horse and bowed before his father. "Christian Calder, heir to the House of Calder, and his hand, Lucas Young, sir."

Karryhs Bishop was a tall slender figure, taller even than Lucas, with a peppered head of raven hair much like his son's. His forehead was covered in lines, each detailing a new portion of the wisdom he'd earned over the years. He had a thick scruff around his chin that was grayer, even, than his hair.

"I'm heir to nothing, Sir Bishop," Christian corrected sleepily and joined Kade on solid ground. "I'm heir to Death."

Sir Karryhs raised an eyebrow. "Bold words for a child," he commented.

"With all due respect, ignore him, sir," Lucas said, and bowed deeply before the master of the House of Bishop.

Karryhs gave a small chuckle at Lucas's honesty, but the tone of the morning was still too somber for much laughter. "A sad occasion to make your acquaintance. Roma? Will you show them to their room?"

A bright and fiery young Arcyan woman stepped forward from behind the knight. Her eyes were green like the grasses of Ferrona and her face was framed by long, silky, ruby hair. "Yes, sir," she answered him and took Lucas by the hand. "Follow me?"

Christian witnessed Lucas blush furiously. "Of course, but, may I…," he asked with a gesture toward Sir Karryhs. She released his hand as he bowed deeply once more. "Thank you for allowing us to take refuge here. Your kindness is honorable, sir."

"Certainly," Karryhs replied. "Now, go find some rest. You've had a long trip."

The girl, Roma, led them away through the courtyard and into the central building. The first room was capacious enough, Christian believed, to comfortably house several elephants. Stairways led up to the next floor on either side of the door and ahead, in the center of the far wall as in Calder Grounds, hung a banner displaying the red-and-black Bishop crest. The longer Christian examined it, the more he felt as though the dragon embroidered on the banner was watching him, demanding something of him. He rushed to catch up to Lucas and Roma as they took the stairs to the left.

The hall on the second floor was decorated with portraits of each master of Bishop's Sanctuary over the years since the foundation of Deepwalk long ago. Each portrait was unique yet each bore the signature dark hair of the House of Bishop, every scalp covered with an elegant mane as inky black as night. There was a heavy sense of dignity about the countenances along the wall that reminded him of his father; a deep well of depression opened up in the pit of his stomach at the thought, threatening to swallow him whole.

They took a door on the right and were led up a steep spiralling staircase. "Sorry for all the stairs," Roma said. "I know you must be exhausted, but there's nowhere in this place that doesn't involve a hike for arrival."

"It's fine. We've made it this far," Lucas replied with a weary grin.

"Almost there, just at the top of this tower." As she promised, they soon came to a door, on the other side of which was a round room complete with two beds and all the necessary furnishings for the guests. On one side of the room were three windows overlooking the courtyard and the city below. "Is there anything you need?"

Lucas glanced at Christian, who said, "I don't think so. Thank you."

Roma smiled. "Alright, then. I'll return to wake you in about three hours—as nice as it might be to sleep all day, there's no need for the two of you to become nocturnal." Lucas thanked her once again and the two collapsed onto the beds with the weight of what seemed all eternity.