"I am Captain Donarak of the Cymor Guard."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Hawklok of the Rebuilt Cities. No title, just Hawklok."

"I'm sorry to have to be intruding on your breakfast, but there was a little problem at one of the wall entrances near here yesterday and I have been requested to check all noncitizen identification tokens. Do you have yours?"

I reached into my pocket and retrieved the token I had taken the day before and showed it to the captain.

"This, you mean?"

"Yes, that. Thank you for your cooperation. Please, finish your meal. I'll have it charged to the Guard. Tell me, do you travel with companions?"

"No, I am travelling on my own to the Northern Reaches to hunt."

"Well, there is a caravan leaving this morning for the Northern Territories. Of course, it won't go as far as the Reaches, but then, what caravan would? What do you hunt?"

"The snow wolf."

"Well, good hunting, Hawklok. I hope your journey is a safe one."

"Thank you, Captain."

He left then, returning to the table with the others of his company. I tried very hard not to let my nervousness show as I ate; however, I was rather shaken by his questions. I had the feeling he knew more than he let on in his questioning, but what he knew I could not tell.

After finishing breakfast, I retreated upstairs to my room. Lysan was still sleeping. I gathered my equipment together as quietly as possible, but she awoke and entreated me to return to bed. I refused, stating that I had to leave on a caravan leaving this morning for the Northern Territories. She begged a bit more, but I left her in bed, walking down to Prymas' room.

I knocked twice, a signal we had set the previous night, and he answered. I told him of the guards below and the questioning, making sure he understood not to mention that I travelled with them. He agreed that my answers probably saved me from immediate capture, though he didn't think I could get out of the city if I were under suspicion. We agreed to meet at the edge of the forest east of town at nightfall. If any of us did not make it by morning, those that were there would leave, taking refuge in the forest until the rest of the party arrived at Cymor's western gate.

I left him to relay the news on to the other two and went downstairs. The guards were still there. As I entered, one of them walked over to someone at one of the other tables and began talking to them, apparently asking them the same questions the captain had asked me. I didn't buy it. As I walked out, I bade the captain well and turned left out of the tavern. I made another quick turn to the left into an alley. I stood there for a while, waiting to see if anyone followed me. No one came by, so I proceeded to the southern gate, hoping to exit with one of the large caravans heading south, as opposed to the northern route I had told the captain I would be following.

I followed the alley around to the back of the tavern where it intersected with a small merchant's square. There, I found the road to the south gate and picked up my pace. As I walked, I looked to see if I was being followed. I never saw anyone of a suspicious nature, other than the regular assortment of thieves and cutthroats hiding in the alleyways.

I rounded a corner and saw the south gate ahead of me at a half-mile distance down the road. As I approached, I just happened to notice a preponderance of uniformed guards posted there. I walked calmly up to the captain and inquired of him the directions to the caravan posts.

"All the caravans have left, most of them yesterday. Which were you hoping to join."

"One bound for Jharkmor."

"There are no caravans to Jharkmor." This last he spoke with not just a hint of malice in his voice.

"Well, I guess I won't be joining a caravan after all." I placed my hand on Majestrix's pommel, hoping I would not be forced to fight all of these men, for I hated loss of life, especially my own.

"Let me see your travelling token."

I pulled the token from my pocket and handed it to the guard.

"You got this from the western gate."

"Yes. My, you are observant, aren't you? Now, may I be off?"

"When did you come through the western gate?"

"Yesterday morn, why? Is there a problem with that?"

"This is an evening-shift token."

Several of the guards had drawn their swords and were encroaching, encircling me. I was dead.

"I am afraid you will have to come with me. Surrender your sword."

"On what grounds am I being apprehended? I have committed no crime within these walls," which was, technically speaking, true, as I had fought the guards at the western gate outside the city wall.

"Several charges of assault and battery of city guardsmen, aiding known enemies of the city, specifically three Remnants, the sons of demons, theft of a sum of money and travel tokens from Officer Jaqyl, and lastly, treason against the city of Cymor and conspiracy against the Crown."

"Well, that is an impressive little speech. Can you say it again, only faster?"

I pulled Majestrix free, hoping the sight of a lightning-fired sword would at least push them back a bit, but it did, instead, the opposite. Immediately, I had four opponents and was hard pressed to keep my defenses up, much less attack. The four became five, and I was forcing off blade and spear point. Finally, I saw an opening in the guard of the captain and thrust forward, trying to merely throw him off balance. I got more than my wish, though, as I saw his hand, while parrying my unforeseen thrust, slice across Majestrix's blade, cleaving it off. He screamed in pain, though he lost no blood as the lightning surrounding Majestrix perfectly cauterized the wound. Several of my attackers pulled back immediately and I took the attack to my attackers. But more appeared and forced me into a corner of the wall. I was, for all intents and purposes, trapped. Then, what I can only call a miracle happened.

There was a sudden roaring, screaming sound, a discharge of many dark, chaotic colors, and a warrior, seven feet tall if an inch, stood between my attackers and me. His back was to me and I could not see his head, for he was cloaked and hooded. However, he was armored, at least on his legs, by a darkly multicolored suit of plate, though it seemed to move and twist around the form of his leg, and in his right hand he held a sword, the largest broadsword I have ever seen. I want to try to stress this- he held it, wielded it, in his right hand, not both hands, but his right hand alone. Then he spoke. His voice was an almost animal growl, but it was very distinct and could not be misunderstood.

"Go away, you miserable creatures. Go fight off a pack of thieves and leave this honorable fellow be. Or would you rather I resharpen my blade after I slice through your pitiful weapons and armour?"

All but two of the guards turned and ran, calling for aid. The other two looked rather indecisive. They looked at each other, then at the new arrival, doing a bit of mental arithmetic, I think, for it took them a while to count that high, and arrived, I think, at a figure they both liked, namely two on one, and proceeded to engage my deliverer.

"Then that is the way it will be," he said

The tall one's blade stretched high into the sky which, though cloudless earlier, had now suddenly been filled by dark, foreboding thunderheads. The sword screeched, a black iridescence floating from it. It was then that the two guards realized what they had gotten themselves into. It did not take long for the tall one to get them out of it. His sword, wielded by his right hand alone, came down and around, slicing with a scream through blade, metal plating, flesh, and bone. He then sheathed the sword and turned to me.

I was shocked. His face, though partially hidden by his hooded cloak, was covered in a thin fur and was drawn somewhat forward. He looked to be a demon, a werewolf, perhaps, for I had heard that such creatures existed. He reached out his hand in friendship. The elongated fingers were extended and there were claws, though trimmed, at the tips. He gripped my arm and pulled me to my feet. His grip was firm, and I could tell the muscles were far stronger than any mortal's. To be blunt, I stared.

"Welcome back to the land of the walking. Quickly, through the gate."

He pushed me out of the gate's portcullis into the open road. There waited two horses, magnificent steeds, all black, armored in black chain with silver ornamentations. He mounted one, and motioned for me to mount the other. I did and followed him into the forests. After a brief but speedy journey into the woods, he stopped at a camp, apparently set for the purpose. He tied his horse to a tree and began building a fire. I dismounted and tethered my steed and then assisted in gathering firewood; what else could I do?

I could, though, watch my deliverer as he worked. He was fully armored in plate mail made of a stranger substance than I had ever seen. Though it was obviously very good protection, it seemed to move and twist around his body, conforming to it, as if it was not solid at all, but amorphous, fixed to his contours. It was fascinating just to watch the swirling of the colors within it.

Finally, the fire was built, but I had no tinderbox with me with which to light it. Apparently, neither did he, though he had something better. He waved his hand over the wood several times, reciting words I did not understand. The fire lit of itself, and I could almost see several beings swimming in the flames, but that was surely my imagination.

"Come, sit. I'll not bite you, despite my rather startling appearance. We are similar, you and I."

"I know not what you mean, sir, but I thank you for saving my life there. It is a debt I cannot repay."

"There is no debt; I never do anything that might actually be misconstrued as being anything other than good fortune, and good fortune only. I am a servant of the Balance. I do what I am told, as long as it does not interfere with my primary quest."

"Who, sir, are you? I know nothing of the servants of the Balance, save the old stories...." My voice faded away as I remembered one story in particular.

The stranger looked up at me and I felt my mind being read. I couldn't have stopped it if I had tried.

"Yes, Hawklok of the Rebuilt Cities, companion to Moonflame of Elderon, consort to Sharmayn, and lover of Myranda the sorceress, I am Wullph, detested and despised by the lords of the higher planes."

I remained appropriately stunned and speechless. So, unfortunately, did he. It was several minutes before either of us spoke, and it was me that broke the silence.

"Why?"

"I felt I was needed. I went where I was told. It was on the way. You are, apparently, far more important than most of your race. The Balance has plans for you, plans which you, or I for that matter, cannot know of. I feel it has something to do with my struggle as well as yours, though I am not certain."

"You mean that there really is an unchangeable fate ahead of me?"

"No, the future, as you have been taught, is constantly in motion. But Fate can allow motion in the future, changes, and still complete her primary task at hand. It is much like a tapestry with some odd threads woven in and amongst the rest. Don't look so confused, Hawklok. All will be as it should be, but you will retain your right to your own fate, if you choose to take it into your own hands."

He returned to his meal. I pondered for a few minutes on what he said, on the many interpretations it might have. I almost understood it all, but it eluded me, as many of my almost-discoveries had, at the last instant before full understanding, as if something was preventing me from knowing everything before some appropriate time. After these musings, I ate.

Following our meal, Wullph rose and went to his horse.

"I must leave you now, Hawklok. I cannot say when or if our paths will cross again. If they do not, then good journey. If they do, until then, fare well in your struggle. Do not be dismayed by the way things seem, for all is never that, as it seems."

With that last note, he took his leave, riding off through the forest to the east, leaving me even more thoroughly confused than ever I had been. I leaned against one of the large oaks surrounding the camp and closed my eyes, contemplating.

"Hawk?"

I was dreaming. I knew I was, because I could not open my eyes, but I could see. Myranda was there, looking for me, calling my name.

"Myranda! I am here!"

She could not hear me. She walked on in a darkness, through a completely black environment, devoid of any contours or features.

"Hawklok? Are you here?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm here! Turn this way!"

Instead, she turned, walking away from me, still calling my name. She disappeared into the void.

"Sir Hawklok?"

I awoke. Prymas was standing over me. Nova'an and Y'klips stood behind him. The grey dream mist that was Prymas' mode of transportation lingered among the camp still, tendrils wrapping around him and his companions, as well as myself.

"We got a message to meet you here. The others have arrived and are waiting for you in Cymor."

"I can't go back there. There was a little problem when I tried to leave."

"Yes, we heard about it and worried for your safety. Then we got your message and came here after meeting the others on the road to the west gate."

I remained silent. My thoughts were still on the dream, still on my encounter with Wullph which was seeming more and more like a dream as I thought about it. What did he mean when he said that my fate was my own if I chose to take it? How does one choose a fate?

"Hawk?"

"Yes?"

"The others are waiting. Shall we go to them?"

"I cannot get into the city. They will know me. Bring them here. No, wait. How many are there, total?"

"Twenty, total. Unfortunately, this includes the original four, as well as the three of us, which I am also sorry to say is all the help I can offer you from the Remnants. The rest have to remain in the Caves, to rebuild."

"I understand. Yes, bring them here. I will be waiting."

Prymas nodded and retreated back into the mists that had reformed. Nova'an and Y'klips nodded and entered the forests on their own errands. I sat and thought.

As I sat, there was a whistling, soft, as if the wind wanted my attention. I closed my eyes, trying to blank it out, but the sound persisted, increasing in pitch, if not intensity. I opened my eyes and looked toward where I thought the sound originated. There was nothing, but as I searched for the source, the whistling became more than just an annoyance. It had a pleasing, enticing tone. There was a pleading in it as well, a haunting, pulling command to follow.

I stood and entered the forest, following the sound, and as I walked I became enshrouded among dark mists that swirled and became almost solid tendrils around me. I felt very light-headed and continued without any reasoning at all.

I came to a clearing in the mists, an opening into a clear field. Lying in this field, naked but for a long black ribbon in her hair, was someone who, at first, I mistook as Myranda. I ran to her, thinking this, then slowed as I realized it was not her.

Instead of sending me away, though, this woman begged me to join her. She motioned with her hand, enticing me to do what I would. I began to undress, unlacing the scabbard from my belt. She reached for it once it was on the ground, as if to pull Majestrix free of it as I finished disrobing. As soon as she touched the hilt, though, there was a flash from the central boltstone and she screamed, clutching her hands together. I would have been horrified by the all-too apparent burns on her hands if it hadn't been for the fact that she herself had transformed into something else.

Her body had instantly changed into that of a demon, a succubus, her true self. Helsmoke poured from her wounds, darkening the surrounding sky. She turned instantly on me, claws raking at my flesh. There was nothing I could do to fight back. I held my hands up to protect my face, but they were knocked down by her. Her strength was unimaginable. Finally, in desperation, I concentrated on the omega-bands and shot a bolt of incredible energy through her body, burning a hole through her several handbreadths wide. She staggered back a few steps, then fell forward onto Majestrix. There was an immediate explosion of blue energy, and the body was consumed in it.

After a moment, the energy dissipated. Nothing remained of the succubus. I redressed and took Majestrix in hand. As I bent to pick up the sword, though, my eye was caught by a ring on the ground. It was very elaborate, carved with many runes, and in the center, embedded in the platinum of the ring, were two diamonds, one perfectly clear, the second completely black. Surrounding these stones were more of the runes. They seemed to twist around the stones, encircling them. I could not read them, or any of the others. I put the ring in one of my pouches.

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