When the emblem is placed upright so that poor Alistar is displayed, his emotionless eyes can finally be shown. The old man in the robes starts to recite another passage that I can't hear, and another Shadowhearts starts to climb onto the stage. I can see a vial in his hand- an empty vial. Alistar slowly raises his head, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees us. But he doesn't move a muscle. He just stares at us three watching him from the safety of this balcony. The longer I look at Alistar, the more uneasy I start to feel. This young man is staring death in its putrid face, and yet he shows no fear, remorse, or pain. I can hardly bear it.

No. That's not it. Something starts to tingle in the back of my mind. For a brief second, Alistar starts to look different. His long red hair has turned golden, parted perfectly in the center of his head. And his eyes are ocean blue, as deep as the earth could possibly dig beneath the surface of the water. Yet he still keeps his Witheridge attire, only slightly different.

And now, I understand. He reminds me of a different fellow from Witheridge, one that was brave and more heartfelt. I remember his voice, which was as calm as a gentle stream just as he was. He always kept his head high in the clouds, with a smile as bright as the sun. Witherin pride ran through his veins as confidently as Netherbane blood coursed through mine.

His name was Nicolas Dewrider.

I instantly recall the last time I saw my old friend. It was a moment just like this. I was there when he was murdered long ago. All I remember was the moment before he died, he looked up at me with those big blue eyes. And he smiled. It wasn't a grand smile that meant joy, like he always showed, but a slight smirk, like he was proud of himself before giving his life away.

I hear the rope snap in my ears. And the image fades away as soon as it arrives, now showing Alistar looking ready to suffer the same fate.

Duncan suddenly grabs onto my wrist. "Woah, woah, Triton!" I hear him say.

I've noticed I'm halfway over the balcony railing. I didn't even feel myself move.

And then, I hear Alistar scream in pain. The man with the veil over his face has dug his meaty fingers inside Alistar's skull and has cleanly ripped out his left eye. He holds it like a trophy, then places the eyes in the black vial. And now I'm even more tempted to jump over this balcony.

But suddenly, before I can even reply, a soft horn rings in my ears. It seems to confuse even the Shadowhearts because I hear them mutter to each other. The sound of horse hooves grows louder and louder, as does the sound of a horde of men. Soon, soldiers of assorted sizes race from the city streets to the courtyard, wielding man-made weapons and flags. I recognize that emblem on the flags- a bright orange orb, embraced by a red garland.

"The Theoton Guard!" Roland says. "They won't go down easily!"

We watch like we are attending a colosseum battle. The Theoton guard storms into the crowd of Shadowhearts, them either immediately dispersing into pools of dark, or slicing with weapons made of the pure dark. The human guards are no match for the shadow weapons, and even when some Shadowhearts drop from battle, they soon rise again. And yet, the guards keep fighting.

Suddenly, the palace doors below us swing open. Every head quickly turns toward the stairs, forcing us three to keep our heads low. However, the sky is illuminated with the sound of rushing wind, followed by the sounds of Shadowhearts screaming in pain.

"Damned Shadowhearts!" I hear from the palace doors below us. "This is our city!"

Duncan and Roland keep their heads down as I slowly peer over the balcony rail. And there, fighting by his men, is that man whose face is painted throughout the palace. That mustache of his looks freshly stained with Shadowheart blood, as do his regal clothes. Spinning graciously in his hand is a long staff with two sharp blades at its ends. A twinblade, I believe they are called.

His hands dim after releasing another burst of Vim.

"I am Elon Westfall, Duke of Theoton! And Theoton belongs to me," he shouts with pride. "Someone get to the tower and launch the weapon now!"

"The tower..." I say as I peer over my shoulder. "We have to get up to that tower!"

Climbing up onto the white palace roof was more than a chore, especially in this freezing cold. My body feels exposed without my tunic, and this blanket around my neck isn't providing much warmth as it just catches wind. The sounds of war are becoming softer as men die almost every second.

Roland leads us up a ladder and through a hatch leading up into the tower. We have to crawl through, but we find a spiraling staircase that takes us to the top. When we reach the top, most of the room is blocked by a strange mechanism. It's a steel ballista facing outward through an opening in the wall, aiming towards the courtyard. It rests on a pedestal with two pistons for steering, and on its end closest to us is a chamber to place ammo. Nearby, in a barrel, is a collection of small steel round shots. Engraved into the metal of these cannonballs are strange markings- they look similar to the markings on the inside of a Celestial Well.

"Behold, a work of Theoton's famous ingenuity," Roland says. "The Shotfire Vim Cannon."

"Vim? You mean... this thing can shoot Vim?"

"It's quite a spectacle," Duncan says. "But it hasn't shot any of the blue stuff ever since-"

"-the Wells went cold," I say. "I see. So this is how Theoton defended itself before."

"Hurry up and light it! They're losing men by the handful out there!" Duncan says, peering out to the battle.

Without another thought, I quickly call upon my Auryn. Roland places one of those round-shots into the launch, and I coat the ball with my Auryn. It glows beautifully, but I have no time to admire it, as Roland aims the cannon. He pulls on a fuse, and immediately, the cannon fires in a mystical burst of blue light.

The explosion fills the world with light for only a brief second, but what awaits is a small lake of Vim. Shadowhearts are finally starting to drop dead from the burns, or they freeze long enough for a guard to land a blow. One more shot goes flying, and another loud explosion bursts and kills several more Shadowhearts instantly. It somehow fills me with glee, as dastardly as it may be, to watch the heathens burn.

"Keep firing! We can crush them with this thing!" I say while I light another ball.

But, in an instant, my body goes numb. My chest becomes so tight that it could implode. Darkness starts to cloud my vision. Everything starts to melt away right before me; the cannon, the buildings on the horizon, even the beautiful moon. I can feel a clawed hand grab my chest.

His wicked smile closes in on my ear. I can feel his laughter pierce my brain. Drago Cascavich.

Soon, I'm pulled into the floor. Duncan gasps and reaches out to me, to no avail. But instead of crashing through wood, I'm hurled through a void of nothing but black. I can hear loud cries of pain from assorted mouths, young and old, loud and soft. But nothing is visible. It's just more dark.

I can feel Drago's fingers latching onto me as we fly together.

"Your fate was already sealed the moment you came back to life. No matter what you do, you will always be surrounded. And I will always be watching you."

"I've seen everything you've done, from Salsbury all the way to Theoton. I watch you like the sun watches the planet. I've watched you murder my brothers. But what're a few dozen lost men? I can always find more."

A rip in the dark shows the same stage Alistar was on, but I hit the bottom before I can prepare for impact. My whole body stings and aches, like I just swam through a vortex of thorns. I slowly raise my head when I hear footsteps, and I feel the cold dark wash over my skin from his terrible aura. Alistar looks down at me, his face plastered in blood from his left eye socket.

Drago looks down at me, his smile still plastered on his ugly face.

"We are everywhere. We are everything."

Whether it be from the pain or from the fear, Drago's black sword looks the most menacing out of every weapon I've ever seen. It keeps its shape despite it being just a shadow. When Drago points his sword at my neck, I look him straight in his demonic red eyes.

But then, he slowly turns his head to the side. As do the rest of the crowd. The whole world stops turning. I hear stomping- loud and metallic stomps from the city streets. The veil of blue fire hides his body only briefly, but out he comes, well-defined and yet indescribable.

That's the man from the bridge. That's his beautiful greatsword that shattered the floor beneath us. He was the warrior who cast that beautiful lightning storm. He's the one who slayed the Stoneseeker King with one mighty slice.

"It's him..." one Shadowheart says with a gasp. I can almost hear a thousand hearts crash into a thousand stomachs. "THE NIGHT SLAYER!"