At the center of Nomad's Haven were dozens of horseback men in dark crimson garb, the same ebony masks resembling the dark predatory terror known as a starstalker. Neiraan was pursued by them. Nidian's heart sank as he saw the town gather around them. Curious gazes, fearfully hunched backs, the searching gaze of those masks scanning the crowd.

  "Nidian, what the hell is going on, who are they?" He glared with concern at Nidian's fixated eyes as they narrowed.

  "It's the cult mentioned in the book. It has to be. They must have put the bounty out. A city in ashes wouldn't be putting out warrants. They're here for the journal." He firmly whispered.

  The two boys saw the door to the Tavern swing open. Two of the men wrestled Torrel's arms as he shouted in protest. Nidian started for the town but felt Malles' hand press into his chest.

  "You can't go down there! They'll know its you the second someone denies knowing you!"

  "They have Torrel! We can't just sit here!" Nidian tried to push past, Malles fully stepping in front.

  "Nidian this is way bigger than we thought, we can't risk it. That journal needs to make it to Kordha Vilah, it cannot fall back into their hands. We can't sit here no, but you can! Just wait here ok?"

  Nidian grunted, he had no desire to remain a bystander but Malles was right. They both recoiled with a gasp as Torrel fell to the ground from a punch to the gut. A man in a gilded crimson robe with a mask baring horns dismounted and approached him as he knelt on the ground. Several members of the crowd had began to murmur, some attempting to push toward the masked men. Torches were waved at them and swords were drawn, forcing them to stand down. Nidian clutched the journal and shakily told himself it was all going to work out once Ae got back.

  He looked to the left to see Malles already breaking into the crowd. All he could do was pray the goddess had the compassion to save them all. "Don't do anything stupid Malles..."

  "Well, you must be Torrel. I hear you're harboring a very important person to us." The man hissed as he knelt by him.

  Torrel growled and stared at the black visage covering the man's face. "We're just helping people that come through, no ill intentions. And I'm afraid I don't have any information for you." He huffed out of breath.

  A metal glove gripped at his throat, sharp edges jabbing against his skin. Torrel choked up under the pressure and pain.

  "I don't take kindly to liars Mr. Meiren. I know he was here, and you'd do best to cooperate."

  "Let him go!" A voice called out. The interrogator slowly looked to his right; in the crowd, Malles had pushed to the front, winded by the sprint. The space fell quiet save for a few horses snorting, and the crackling of the army of torches.

  The man stood as his soldiers blocked Malles from getting closer. He waved his hand and they stood aside. "And who are you?" He smiled eerily through his helmet, dropping his grip on Torrel who gasped and protest. "Malles no.."

  Malles swallowed the welling anxiety and puffed his chest out. "He doesn't know where he's at, and you're foolish to mess with Nomad's Haven!"

  The menacingly garbed figure flicked his hand upward and his guards apprehended Malles, dragging the boy in front of him, just right of Torrel. They restrained his arms but forced him to stand.

  "And you're a foolish child to dare interrupt me, do you know who I am?" He clicked with wet lips, the slithering voice snaking into his mind and striking it with fear as he stared into the several empty eye sockets on the mask.

  Malles shook his head.

  "I am Argas, a prophet of the Final Dawn. I'm here to collect a very very naughty man who stole from me. And it is unwise to interfere. But because of your childish intelligence I'll give you the chance to apologize."

  Malles wiggled in the metallic grip of his captors as he stared down the man and his condescending words. "You're gonna be sorry! When Ae gets here you'll regret touching me and Torrel!"

  "Malles stop it-" Torrel tried to shut him down but was punched again by another guard. His nose beginning to bleed profusely.

  Argas closed in, toe to toe with Malles. "And this Ae, she isn't here right now is she?" He taunted further.

  Malles growled at him, he knew she'd never fall through on them. "No but she will be soon!"

  Argas laughed and put his hand on his shoulder, "good good, cause this will only take a second."

  Torrel only caught a glimpse of the dark jagged metal, "No please!"

  Malle's eyes went wide and he gasped, his abdomen felt like it was on fire, every muscle clenched against the invading object. He looked up into the soulless mask. And then again, in and out, over and over. The blade tore through his gut stab after stab. His body panicked, but was frozen by the shock, he could hear the cries of children in the crowd, gasping and screaming townsfolk. Torrel's own agonizing cry. But it all rapidly went muffled and distant, his vison blurred as his head began to feel heavier and heavier. It fell to the side as he watched Torrel break free of the men who held him down, his tears sizzling from the rage on his face. He came inches from Argas when two more men tackled him. Argas thrust the dagger one more time, twisting it so aggressively Malles spit up the same crimson that had been splattered and strung all over the pavement as his body seized.

  And then he dropped him, the two restraining arms letting go in tandem. He hit the ground with a thud, his terrified eyes gazing into Torrel's just inches away with slow gargled wheezes.

  "Malles...Malles no please...no." Torrel wailed through his watery eyes.

  Nidian had fallen to his knees as he watched it all unfold, unable to contain the anger. "Damn you!" he screamed.

  The vicious curse echoed down to the assembly. Heads turned, Argas being one of them. "On the hill... that's him. Get him!" He shouted, dozens of horseback soldiers snapping their reins and plowing into the crowd. People screaming and scattering to avoid being trampled by the savage men.

  Nidian frantically scrambled to his feet as the thunderous galloping carried the threat of capture toward him. He turned on the ball of his foot and ran into the woods.

  Argas turned to his side and placed the knife into Balak's hands, "You were right. That is fun to use."

  He mounted his armored steed, "People of Nomad's Haven. Consider this a lesson. Obey our commands, or perish." With that he rode off after his men.

  Torrel looked up as the last remaining soldiers left him to his meltdown, no fight left in him as they let go. His arms limp at his sides.

  Balak came up, his boots squishing in the pool of blood that had soaked Torrel's hair. "It's funny really, you actually thought I was going to just stand down."

  Torrel just shakily reached out and took Malles into his arms, the crimson staining every inch of his body. They boy's chest was still just barely fluttering. The fright in his eyes was immortalized as his face grew ever more pale. Torrel's sobs got heavier as he hugged the boy to his chest. "I'm so sorry kid, I'm so sorry."

  Balak stood there, unapologetic. "I never expected Malles to get hurt. That knife was meant for you believe it or not. But if its of any consolation, I think there's room in the pit by the barn for him with all the other horse shit."

  Torrel's mind blocked out the words, his fire for aggression had been drowned in the sea of sorrow. Balak turned and walked away, sheathing his dagger and disappearing into the darker alleys of town. Torrel remained in place, clutching the quickly fading away consciousness that was Malles.

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