Arozal ran along the grassy plains. At his side was Felimor, with Endeln just behind. The trio headed east, their heavy boots making light imprints upon the spongy earth. The wet grass sparkled brightly in the golden sunlight. The black clouds, which had before filled the sky, were now nowhere to be seen, haven given way to a light blue color.
They moved eastward, following the directions of Neyteg as best they could. But despite the beautiful setting, Arozal could not hide his despair. "Neyteg is dead, isn�t he? Nobody can stand up to Oredun..."
"Do not speak like that, young warrior," replied Endeln. His white mail glittered in the light of the sun. "Mighty is Neyteg. He will not be slain so easily."
"I agree," spoke Felimor. "Neyteg is a fine Paladin. He will not be fall to Oredun."
Arozal shook his head, his eyes still filled with despair. His hair was dirty, as was his once bright silver mail. Only the white blade Yeteres remained clean, lying in its sheath. The light of the sun reflected off the hilt, sending the golden rays to shine on the battle scarred face of Arozal. "We can only hope you are right, my friends..."
After that, they trudged on in silence. Though they had not far to go, the rough hilly land made walking hard. The green grass had grown high, reaching almost to the knees of Felimor, the tallest of the three. At their backs, Cirtenia could still be seen, the towers of the castle rising high. The black men had given up pursuit, again returning to terrorize and torture the innocent people of the city. At least, they terrorized what was left of the people, for many tens of thousands had been slain upon the coming of Oredun, while still others had cast themselves upon their own blades for grief at what they believed to be the end of the world for those not black of heart.
Finally, after several minutes of walking, they came to a hill, larger than all the rest. On the top, grew a single tree of great height, which seemed to reach out towards the heavens above. Its branches were long and thick, covered in large green leaves. Raindrops still clung to the leaves, slowly falling to the ground below. They had formed small puddles, each new drop hitting with a soft splash. Occasionally, a burst of wind would float through the branches of the tree, causing it to sway, and sending more water flying into the puddles below.
Arozal looked upward, shading his eyes against the sun. "I fear that somehow we have gone astray. I see no sentinel awaiting us."
"Nay," replied Endeln. "We have not left our path. We must go on. Neyteg won�t fail us."
"Yes," spoke Felimor. "Let us climb this hill, and there we may rest, and take shelter under the great tree limbs."
Arozal nodded, and without a word, he began to walk up the hill. Before long, he was crawling along the hill, using his hands to grasp the ground above him. His fingers pressed into the soft dirt as he pulled himself up the steep slope of the grassy hill. Bees buzzed around him, birds flying gracefully overhead. Flowers of many colors dotted the hill, rising just above the tall, thick grass.
Before long, the three of them were laying on their backs beneath the shade of the great tree, feet extended. The setting seemed calm, and, for the moment at least, finding the sentinel was forgotten.
Felimor looked towards the bright blue sky, watching as the occasional white cloud floated by. He sighed. So much had happened. Three years ago, everything had changed. He and Arozal had disappeared, and found Dahgoren. They met so many people. Thileres, Cirya, Erenis...
At the thought Erenis, Felimor smiled sadly. Oh, how kind and fair was she. But he doubted he would ever see her again. "Arozal, do you remember when we were young?" He asked.
Arozal thought for a moment, remembering so many years ago, when he and Felimor had been young. "Yes," he replied. "I remember those times well. How happy we were, and how simple the world seemed."
"Indeed," said Felimor. "In those days, the Black Knight seemed but a legend. I remember sitting by the fire, listening to tales of Coralis and the Black Knight, tales of the war, of their duels, and of the end of Oredun. How can it be that things are as they are now?"
"Neyteg can tell you, I believe," spoke Endeln. Until that time, he had remained silent, remembering his own past. So vividly did he remember his child hood, and the fateful day when his life had changed.
Endeln had been a young boy, only ten years of age. He had lived in the city of Elernol, which had been a tower city to guard the borders during the first war against Oredun. It had been a clear, bright morning. Birds chirped, and animals scurried about. Endeln was curious, and longed to be a hero, like the knights in the legends of old.
He and several of his friends wandered far from home. They walked all through the day, and when nightfall came, they knew not where they were. They fell asleep by the border of a great forest, which they later found to be the Endannon Woods.
They awoke to the sounds of harsh growling. In the night, wolves, upon which dark men sat, clad in black robes and brandishing cruel blades, had surrounded them. But just in time to save them, a group of men came from the north, making battle against the dark men. The leader of the force from the north had been Kaulden, father of Endeln.
The dark men were slain, but at a cost. For in the battle Kaulden fell. From that moment, Endeln had vowed that he would never give in to the darkness. He had sought to become a Paladin, so that he may battle the darkness. A single tear fell from his eye, splashing softly upon the ground. He could not let that trouble him. He had to focus on the present.
"Oh, for what reason do we fight?" Spoke Arozal. "The innocence and joy of child hood has long passed us by. The future holds only pain, for the days of the world have grown dark. What have we left to fight for?"
"We must fight for what is right," Replied Felimor. "So long as I live, I shall fight the darkness with all my strength."
"As shall I," said Endeln. "Even if we fall, at least our souls shall be saved."
"Then I too shall fight. Though all that is dear to me is now gone, still I shall not give in to the darkness," spoke Arozal. "The world might change, but never shall darkness triumph."
"Noble words, my friend," replied Felimor. "Yet now I fear we have tarried too long, speaking of what was, and what is to be."
"Yes, let us now go." Endeln rose to his feet, brushing himself off. The others rose as well. They began to work their way down the east side of the hill. Thankfully, it wasn�t nearly as steep as the other side had been. Going back down proved to be much quicker, not to mention easier.
Felimor was the first to reach the bottom. Within moments, the others stood with him, surveying the area.
"Hail, Noble Warriors!" Called a voice, which seemed quite close by.
Endeln stepped forward, speaking to whom he knew not. "Are you of Neyteg�s men?" He was in no mood for small talk.
"Aye," replied the voice. A man, to whom the voice belonged, stepped forward from beneath a large pile of rocks. Like Endeln, he was clad in white chain mail, a coat of dirt formed about it. A long broad sword was girt at his side, and upon his head was set a white helm. He was tall and muscular, his eyes shining a deep blue color. Golden locks of hair could be seen just beneath his helm.
Endeln bowed low. "I am Endeln, a Paladin. I was driven away during the assault on Cirtenia. I came across these two fine young men, and returned here seeking to help in battle."
The white-clad man now spoke to Arozal and Felimor. "Young are you both, yet within your eyes shines a mighty fire. What are thine names?"
"I am Arozal, heir of Coralis." Spoke Arozal, stepping forward and bowing.
Felimor too stepped forward, bowing before the man. "I am Felimor, Prince of Serassia and companion of Arozal."
The man looked surprised. "It seems that in these days, many ghosts walk. Arozal and Felimor were slain by wild men three years ago, were they not?"
"Nay," replied Arozal. "We are not ghosts, for we were not slain. We escaped into the forest. Endeln found us, and now we have returned to aid the people of Virelia in times of darkness."
"They speak the truth," said Endeln. "For he carries Yeteres, the Holy Flame."
Still was the look of surprise upon the man�s face. "Felimor, you call yourself Prince of Serassia. Did the Serassians not perish in the war against the Black Knight?"
"And did the Black Knight not perish as well?" Countered Felimor. "Much of the impossible has become possible, in these days."
"Indeed, strange times are upon us," replied the man. He thought for a moment, before finally speaking again. "My name is Drenelor. I shall lead you to the last stronghold of the Paladins. But first, let us go to Relnin. There we shall meet the Lord Neyteg."
"If he still lives, that is..." Interjected Arozal, the dark tendrils despair once again grasping his heart.
"He lives," replied Drenelor. "Of that I am sure. Now let us go, for the journey is many days long."
Neyteg ran quickly, his muscular legs carrying him quickly across the soft ground. Though no servants of the enemy were in sight, still did he fear their pursuit. His great blade had not yet been sheathed since he fled Cirtenia. Still did he carry it in his hands, ready to turn and fight at any time. He could only hope that he would not be forced to fight in these lands, where he could not hope to receive aid during his time of need.
His hair flowed behind his head, the wind blowing it backwards. His eyes stared steadfastly northeastward. He was headed for Relnin, where he hoped to meet the others.
For eleven days he journeyed alone, eating only what little food he had stored in the pouch at his waist. The food was a dried bread-like substance, full of nutrients, and quite filling, but hardly satisfying. Luckily, Neyteg encountered many small streams along the way, at which he could stop to drink and refill his water bottle. No time was there to stop and bathe, for the smallest amount of time could mean so much at a time like this.