The road outside the city was dark, and they had to rely on a lantern to guide them through the short trek in the woods.

The light flickered a large formation in the distance. There stood a mansion, polished with walls of marble and tiles of the finest wood. The walls were painted with symbols, some familiar, while others foreign. It stood above a cliff side, like a steep hill covered in rocks. The one thing that seemed to lead up to it was a large stairway forged by stone hardened steps.

At least five guards came up to them to hold them back, creating a wall of spears preventing them from entry.

"What brings ye to the Sadorian Estate? Shant be any peasants in need of work 'round here." One of the guards asked.

Zoran's eyebrows went up, wide eyed with surprise as he looked up to Theodren behind him.

"A human? In this realm?" He thought.

Zoran began to realize that despite the dim light, they were all human. Plate armor, Paldaron kettle helms, refined blades, crossbows, while others with shields and long steel coated tipped spears, much larger than that of an eyru.

"Well?" The man asked in a demanding and irritated way.

"The king asked that we-" Zoran was cut off.

"No...the big one! Tall lad in the back with dark gray hair. You seem like their leader. What say you?"

With an unprepared look to those between him, Carrion awkwardly walked in front. Theodren was appalled to not be chosen as the leader, being taller than them both.

"As the young boy said, sir. The king requested that we come here." He tried looking for his seal of approval and map.

"This, sir."

Handed the waiver, the supposed mercenary gave a soft look at it, spat on it, and crumbled it up. With tossing, the paper flew off the edge: around fifty feet down off the side of the stairwell.

Theodren was prepared to take on all five of them, clenching his fists. The only thing holding him back was the door itself being opened.

"Fair meeting, master." The guards bowed down immediately, trembling at his sight.

"You stand on my steps. By who's request have you been summoned?" Aran looked out the door at the three men who stood below him.

He carried with him the same blackened brown straight silky hair as his daughter, much shorter but well kept. However, his clothing was far more royal than Valora would've ever allowed herself in. Like his daughter, he was gifted with fair looks and a welcoming appearance. A short thin button nose, a perpetually serious brow, a sharp jaw, and defined blue eyes. Even his grin had an upper class look to it, like a smile of someone of worth in the world.

With a pause, Aran and them stared in silence, but before Zoran could explain what became of the details, he glanced at Theodren's right pocket. The doll Valora gave him was sticking out from it.

Aran's expression changed: a confused look with a hint of charm, to a welcoming smile with a force of intent.

"This way, if you will." Aran signalled the guards to leave their position.

"But sir!" The guard that crumbled the paper replied.

"Take the night off, Yanrey. You've troubled enough." The guards all laughed in response to the comment, and the man threw his helmet down beside Aran's feet.

After entering the building, they were given many gifts from the servants, mostly being food and others as cultural sentiment.

"You don't need to do this." Zoran started with a smile.

Theodren remained focused on the man walking down the steps, while Carrion was focused on the gift he was given, trying to figure out what it was.

"No, I don't need to do anything. A lot of things in our lives are done by our ideals, not our needs." Aran began walking towards another room with his hand grabbing the other wrist from his back as though to stand sophisticated.

They all looked at each other confused for a few seconds, then followed him.

"So what brings you here? By the king's authority, of course, but what of your own motive?" Aran turned to them again, holding the same stance.

"It's Almar, sir." Carrion replied.

"Almar? The one who killed an entire crowd at his own execution?" Aran looked to them, concerned but still in check. "Is he not a peasant's legend from years past: an ancient ballad?"

"Carrion was the last survivor in the attack on Ashfield. You above all else should know about that event." Zoran pointed to Carrion.

Aran sat down, taking out paper and an ink pen and began taking notes.

"I was told that Ashfield was burned to the ground by rebels near the end of the...." Aran paused, pen away from the notes. His welcoming nature was depleted.

A moment passed by.

"Pardon that I intrude, but what end?" Zoran approached to ask from the back of his right side.

"The war." Aran stood still, turned away from them.

There was another brief silence.

"Well, it isn't true, sir. It was an army, not human, not eyru, nor greymer. It was Zerethian: beings of clay like emotionless puppets named after the valley itself." Carrion looked to Zoran with concern, trying to break the repeated emptiness.

Aran began writing, but Theodren already had his doubts in him believing what they were saying.

"We tracked down the footprints, and they led to Zerethian valley. Almar was there. We don't know how we made it out alive, but we woke up afterwards with the horses licking our faces."

With that final response from Zoran, Aran finished his writing. He started walking around the building in thought, looking towards the window and then the doorway.

"My child was among you, correct?" He said with his hand gripped against his chin.

Aran walked close to Zoran, a determined look on his face, similar to one with concern.

"Pardon that I also intrude, but is she well?"

"Yes, but that's irrelevant, is it not?" Zoran replied slowly, moving a few steps back.

Theodren spent the bulk of the discussion looking at the food he was given, trying to figure out how he was supposed to eat it, but at that moment he too was alert with attention.

"I shall give this information to the king." Aran opened the doorway for them to leave.

"Please know I do not speak ill, but I know it to be true." Aran paused, a voice with heavy persistence.

"Know what to be true, sir?" Zoran spoke with hesitation, moving a few steps down towards the stairs leading out of his estate.

Theodren was dragged by Carrion down the steps as well, as he was still distracted by the food.

"Valora, my dearest, is here in this city." Aran pursued them: a few steps towards the entrance where they stood. "I could make this whole ordeal far easier if you just tell me where she's hid herself, so I might see her precious face again."

"Your daughter loves you, Aran." Theodren quickly responded, "but she does not wish to see you no matter how far you care to bargain."

Theodren turned away at that moment, walking down the steps with the others close behind: all falling silent in their wake. Zoran: confused, looked back and forth to Theodren and Aran as he continued to the downward.

"Farewell." Zoran shouted with his hands cupped against his mouth; by then at the bottom of the steps.

Aran simply raised his hand; not a hint of an expression anywhere on his face, even until the door was shut behind him by his guardsmen.

______________________________

Walking through the night's trail back to Arandoth, surrounded by thick woodlands teaming with the sounds of life, Zoran began to speak.

"No need. I know his intent as well as you, and if he truly loves his daughter, he'd trust our every word." Theodren cut him off, hand on his brother's shoulder as they walked on, Carrion walking ahead of them with a lantern in hand. "Don't you worry."

Zoran sighed with mild aggression and gently removed his brother's hand from his shoulder.

"I hope you're right."

Theodren stopped in his tracks, took a breath, and continued on.

_____________________________

The next day, they awoke to find out that the steward already gave word to the king. Voices were heard in the distance crying out about the horrible news.

"The kingdoms will fall!" A terrified eyru lady said in the crowded streets, commotion gathering all around.

As others spread the message throughout the city and through the rest of the realm, word got out across the sea itself. From the Dragon Shores, to Lorlyn, to Paldaron, to even the cold peaks of Drakon. All found out about the news and many panicked in fear, but others, such as warriors of the Dragons Guild in Drakon, only thought of it as a challenge that they were to accomplish. Derek, king of Lorlyn, the greatest ruler of them all, was ready to defeat Almar. It was already known to many of King Derek's unmatched renown in the battlefield.

Weeks continued on, preparations, organizing, and planning.

"All of these things must be accomplished to weaken Almar, and defend our nations." King Derek said above the rest of the nations that took part in the council for the war ahead.

Theodren, Carrion, Zoran, and Valora all traveled west to Lorlyn.

The king welcomed them into his court. The plans were made, and the armies of every country involved were at the ready.

When night came, the armies camped in the forest nearing the west borders of Lorlyn. The entire army, Theodren and the others included, pondered continuously over the events to come.

Would peace or a false deity stand to rule in the years to come? With nightfall and no orders at the time, all they could do was hope and pray, as the time grew closer and closer...to the war's great beginning....