Chapter 4: Darkness Rising

Kaston fell to the ground with acrash. Before he could scramble back up, he felt a blade at his throat. He probably should have broken the news to Makuran more gently.

"I TRUSTED YOU WITH THIS TASK!" Makuran roared. "AND YOU FAILED ME!"

Kaston cringed in fear. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "He outmaneuvered us. There was nothing I could've done!"

Makuran pressed his face up against Kaston's, the warrior's eyes boring into his own. "Do you understand what your failure has cost us?"

Kaston wet his lips. This wasn't the first time he had seen firsthand the extent of his master's capacity for rage. Makuran could snap at a moment's notice if things weren't going his way. It was understandable how his brother's escape had brought so much anger out of him. "I understand."

"And do you understand the price of such a costly failure?"

"I- I've been helpful to you before!" Kaston managed to gasp out. "After everything we've gone through, you wouldn't be rid of me so easily... would you?"

Makuran glared at him in silence. Then, he withdrew his blade. Kaston scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily.

The throne room of Darkwood Castle was a spacious chamber. Its walls were hewn from granite, and a thick layer of dust filled the air. Old legends claimed that the castle was haunted, but fifteen years living in the place had convinced Kaston that those were nothing more than legends. Now the fortress was hidden from sight as his master prepared for what was to come.

"Well," Makuran said. His rage was easing. "Our hand's been forced. But we are far from finished yet."

He started pacing, his eyes darting back and forth across the weathered stone walls. "We will need to move quickly," he muttered, half to himself. "Tell the grunts to work to their breaking point. Send a messenger to Crast and tell him we need to speak. Then gather a band of our strongest warriors and launch this war's first strike. Cut a swath through the southern villages before they have time to prepare. And while that's happening, rally the remaining troops and prepare for an all-out assault." He turned back to Kaston. "Can I trust your pathetic hide to manage that?"

"Of course, Master." Xaran bowed low, wincing under Makuran's smoldering glare. "I only hope Xaran understands."

"Let me worry about Xaran," Makuran purred. "All we have to do is keep the humans contained and struggling until his true army is ready. I can't imagine a few squalid villages will prove much a threat, do you?"

With that, he retreated into his chambers to consult his lord.

"You failed me once," he said as he left. "Don't let it happen again."

* * *

At the center of Pailan stood the meeting hall, one of the few unique buildings in the village. It was built from sandstone and mortar, a single, massive, rectangular room with a platform for speakers at the far end, large enough to hold the entire village population inside.

As noon rose over the canyon, the room was packed full of people. A messenger had come by their houses a little after dawn with news: Hother, the village chief, had called a meeting. The rain had stopped, and the day was pleasantly humid. It seemed too good a day for sour news. Nevertheless, there was a rumble of nervousness running throughout the crowd as they filed in. Full village meetings were rare. The last one had been several years ago, in the midst of Pailan's worst drought in decades. What could possibly be important enough to call another?

The murmur died down as Hother stepped up on the platform, Kalann by his side. Both of them looked grim.

"Good morning, Pailan," Hother said. He was fifty years old, muscled and tanned from years of digging irrigation ditches, his chestnut hair starting to grow silver with age. But his deep voice still carried far, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. "I trust we are all feeling well-rested after such an uneventful evening?"

A chuckle ran through the crowd. Kalann smiled; that was their chief, all right. One sentence, and everyone was at ease.

"Yes, yes," Hother continued, "I'm glad to hear it." His expression darkened. "And sadly, now I must break this pleasant mood." He motioned to Kalann. "Kalann, you came to me as the dawn was breaking with a story to tell. Please, let the village know what happened to you last night."

Kalann nodded, his throat suddenly feeling very dry. "Of course." Hother had believed his story; he had no reason not to. Whether the village as a whole would be so receptive was a different matter.

Stepping up to the front of the platform, Kalann addressed his fellow villagers. He described the mysterious letter he had found, and the dark warning inscribed upon it. "I don't know any details beyond that," he finished, "but I know we need to be ready for whatever darkness is coming our way."

Done speaking, he waited to see what impact his words had. The citizens of Pailan were muttering amongst themselves, some of them very noticeably trying not to stare at Kalann. Hother glanced sideways at him, as if to say, "All yours."

Finally, Kalann broke the silence. "I'm guessing that some of you out there think I'm a blathering fool."

There were several shouts of agreement from the crowd. Kalann silenced them with a wave of his hand. "I don't blame you. I'm still trying to wrap my head around all this myself." He cast his gaze around the room, trying to avoid the accusing gazes too many of his fellow villagers held. "You all know me. I'm as sane as I ever was. I have no proof that whoever wrote that message was telling the truth. But if there's even the slightest chance it's real... we cannot afford to be unprepared."

As if to punctuate this declaration, the building's doors suddenly burst open.

The crowd scattered to make room as a man staggered in, gasping for breath. He looked ragged and worn out, covered with scrapes and bruises. "I... bring news," he choked out.

Hother was beside him in an instant. "What has happened?"

"My village... it was attacked. By Urts"

A shocked hiss ran through the crowd, but Hother kept his gaze on the man. "Tell me everything."

"They destroyed it." He coughed, blood dribbling down his chin. "I don't know... how many escaped. You... must... be... ready."

So saying, his strength finally gave out and he collapsed to the ground.