Chapter 2

The three chickens lead me to a dirt road, giggling and jumping, knowing I'm not a threat, but only a man that requires assistance. Brown mud covered my boots. Shadows of huge trees befell upon me, familiar they were. Drumwood. I recalled Leyna mentioning the tree, the finest material for battleships. Why is it I remember a great deal of the past, but not so much of the now? I reflected on my apparel. Leather, midnight black with a touch of green, such clothing I reserved for fighting in the dark.

In the distance, a bearded-man is piling logs into his wagon. Tall and hairy. Dirt and sweat stained clothes. He has thick arms but a round belly. His face reminds me of a hog. 

"Papa!" Maggi calls out, a wide smile on her face, leaping towards her father. Upon seeing me, the man grabs his ax from a beaten stump of a tree. "He's lost, papa. He is a prince, like in the books! Prince Lexander is his name. " 

"He appeared from a stone." Floyd whispered. 

"And he speaks funny." Jon added.

"Your parents have been filling your head with foolish stories, children. And don't go talking to strangers. Now, off you go back to the cart. I'll go speak to him." The hog says and looks at me. He threaded carefully, ax in hand, as if I were some kind of wild animal. In this part of an unknown land, mayhaps I am. "You're not from around here, stranger. Who are you?"

I was expecting the little girl would speak of me in detail but that was too much for me to assume. "As your daughter says, Prince Lexander."

The hog chuckle and spit.

"Aye, Prince Lexander, huh? And I'm the High King of Ferrosa." He snarl, twirling his axe with enough exaggeration for me to notice. "You think me a fool, stranger? Up there is only meadow, river, and ocean. I think you came from the northern islands. A spy from the cursed lands. Looking at our fields and trees, counting our men, our weapons, to report to your dark master. Hungry for a pillaging, aye?"

Insulting, truth be told, talking to me that way, however, a part of me felt relieved hearing the name of the land we rule and protect: Ferrosa. It means I'm here, but where is exactly here? I tire of accusatory exchanges, especially to hoglike oafs, but what do I do in circumstances? He has no inkling of who or what I am. Tho cannot control the words and actions of others. Mentor Pevillo once said. 

"I am no spy. I am no man of the north." I say, struggling with the irritation to repeat once again. "I am Lexander Oldblood, and for the time being my memory serves me no good. I have no recollection of my arrival here, nothing. Aside from the chick… children. Thou are the first reasonable man I've spoken to. Thy daughter speaks true, I am lost, and I require passage back to Evenburgh."

"Even- what?" the hog says, scratching his chin.

I slightly tilt my head, puzzled . How can someone not know the seat of the Emerald Throne? The Grand Monarchy. The greatest city in the entire world.

"The Capital of Ferrosa, Evenburgh." I repeated matter of factly, slowly once again.

"You mean Almina, the center city of trade and commerce. "

What the holy fudge? 

I tried my best to keep my calm. This man is naught but a stupid fool. Too stupid to understand geography, arguing would be pointless. Nevertheless, this is Ferrosa. I just need him to take me to an archivist, every major town has one as decreed by the Emperor.

Suddenly, the sorcerer's laughter pierce my mind. The pain etching and pricking like a thousand needles. On both knees I kneel, bile upon my throat. I taste salty wetness and realize my nose is bleeding. My body slumped to the muddy earth while everything went black.

***

Dream. 

Nevuchad laughed. "I knew thou come." Eyes white as bone. Voice cold and old as time. Pale face of half man, half dead. Grey white robes under the black moonlight night.

The ground shooked. Ghouls erupted under our feet, lifeless corpses willed to life, but only hunger remained. Some hundreds of years dead, only bones and rotting clothes, others raw as yesterday, flesh still vivid red. Countless in their number. Hundreds. Thousands. More. 

Ambush. 

"Ala formae!" I commanded as Deavid and Leyna secured my flank. I summoned a wall of flames to my side, to create a single path towards the necromancer. The silent cold black night turned into a bright fiery arena. I rushed straight onwards, my hands burning with the sacred flame. 

His foul majicka against my blessed light. 

"Ye have lost, bearer of the grand flame."

***