'Our king, king of Cladon, allows you to enter. He desires to speak to you.' Thirean entered the hall, where he had been so many times. Five days ago he was in battle. War had come. The strong city Bar Thûrm, which was built to resist long sieges, was about to fall. Bar Thûrm had great warriors, but it was in this time that things are changing. The city had subterranean halls, because of these halls the people could leave the city safely. But, the exit was known by the enemy. After the people who fled in those halls were slain, they followed the halls into the middle of the city. And while men still were at the third wall (Bar Thûrm had three circles of walls), the Sonfuleani attacked from behind. The Sonfuleani were dangerous enemies. They looked like men, even with their strange clothing, you could hardly recognise them. A great danger was that they could make their skin hard, so arrows or swords weren't of any use against them. Hiding their only weak spot, they wore iron around their hips. As weapon they used spears and a small, but very sharp blade, disigned to easily cut of arms or legs. Shields they didn't use.
'Thirean, I'm glad you are here. You bring great news of a victory, they told me. Everyone in the city talkes about this victory. Tell me, Thirean, how did you win?' Thirean hestitated. How could he tell his king this awful news? The old King Volain looked up. His long, grey and curly hair hung before his face. Trough the hair Thirean could see his green, grey eyes. His eyes got grim and cold, as if they were commanding him to tell the king what had really happend. 'My lord, all those tales...' An uncomfortable silence fell. Like they all wanted to read his mind, and what was going on in there. All now looked at Thirean. A great fear came over Thirean. What if the king didn't like his message? What if the king, who usally was very kind, would be angry on him? Thirean continued: '... aren't true. The Sonfulaeni are taking the city. When I left, they came with their best warriors. Wearing iron around their hips, hiding their only weak spot (if their skin is hard), and they were all armed with weapons we can't fight against.
'Volain now stood up and looked at Thirean. Anger was in his face. He cried with a horrible voice, such as one that was never heared and one that shall never be heared again: 'Why do you came here to tell me useless things. I for one fought three battles after each other against the Sonfuleani, and you, you disgusting scoundrel, you only come to tell me that you can't fight them? For years I thought I had a great warrior beside me, and now, when need is high, it appears to be different.' Volain sighted. He looked up another time. Now he said with a softer voice: 'You should fight them. Why, why did you run away from battle? Don't you know what it is, to be sieged? You are the one who is going to solve this. You must go with an army to Bar Thûrm and do what you can, when it still is possible. I will write a letter for for the Steward of Treagon. Give this letter him, for Treagon now is the only city where soldiers can be spared. Thirean, there depends much on you. If you fail, Cladon will fall, and all people will live in days of darkness, until the end. You know that Sonfuleani have cruel ways of controlling their county. They would make us nothing, but a army in their hands. Make sure you will defeat them, otherwise we all will die because of hunger. You are responsible for this issue.'
After this Thirean turned back and went to his room. It was late and the moon already shone upon Aristor, the city where still people use the old way of working in the fields. The most remarkble at this thing is, that they are more productive than every other city in this age. Thirean felt bad, so bad that he couldn't sleep. The whole night he turned from the one side upon the other, thinking about the strict words that his king had spoken to him. It should be different. The Sonfuleani should be dead, but they aren't, becaue of the wizards, ages ago. They wouldn't listen to the unfair king of Cladon, who became king with great force.
Suddenly he fell out of his bed. He noticed he fell at last in a sleep. Someone was knocking and rattling on the door. 'Who is there?', Thirean shouted. 'Wake up', a low voice of a man said. 'You shouldn't be resting any more. Time is your enemy. Take your horse and go to Treagon. Ride as swift as you can. As I said, time is your enemy.' He stood up from his bed and grabbed his sword. Thirean lingered no longer. He packed all he needed and went to the stable. His beautiful brown horse was already saddled. He mounted his horse and rode away. The people of cladon used to take roads, build by the nature herself. Those roads were covered with sand. Never there was mud at the roads, cause the sand was trampled. The wind blew in Thireans face, for the summer was at the end. His short, brown hair was hidden because of his helmet. Thirean used to use a sword, a shield and a helmet in battle, but in his haste. His shield was a curved shield of iron coverd with a small base of gold. That curve in his shield were useful in many fights, because arrows couldn't get in his shield. The road to Treagon had one great danger, the bridge. There used to be markets at Friday and Saturday, but things have changed. Now there stood a few market stands, but no more. The once so great place of trade, had fallen to nothing. Now was the danger that often unknown people dwelt there. In dark clothes they were. They kidnapped people, robbed people and murdered people, all with their hands. Thirean already rode twenty miles, when he looked back. He noticed that someone was following him. Someone riding exactly in his speed. He shivered. He wondered if this figure was one of the misterious people. Watching around him he saw that threre was no way of escaping from him. On the sandy paths through the grasslands with here and there some trees he rode right now. He looked back another time. He could see not one, but two people in black clothes. He got frightend. 'What if I don't get to Treagon, how then will my country survive the war?', he wondered. The sandy path flitted now in a path of stones. Those stones were transparent and had a shape of a hexagon. The stones coloured blue in the middaysun. Riding on these stones Thirean heared more and more hoofs on the road. For the third time he looked back. He saw now six men, wearing no weapon. 'It isn't true', he thought. He quickend his pace. The more distance he rode towards the Square of Trade, the more fear came over him. Why is this happening, he thought, why right now? The people now who followed Thirean screamed now, in tales of which no one can tell any more (except those misterious people). Thirean looked back anxious. nine people now he saw. His horse already rode a long distance and began to be weary. Thirean quickend another time his pace. Sweat now dripped form from the horse's head. Thirean looked ahead and noticed that he still had to gow a few miles to The bridge. 'I hope I can get to the Square of Trade, if I'm there I might escape them. More screaming he heared. Closer and closer he came to the Square of Trade, but then there came out more people from their hidden places. Thirean was surrounded. He stopped and watched those men. All around him there stood now people, wearing black clothes, without weapons. At least twenty men they were. Behind him he saw someone who looked as a optional leader. He gave signs to the others with his face. Black hair he had, and a black beard was at his face. His eyes, tightly as they were, lighted up. A great terror came over Thirean, he had seen this man before. When he was a boy, aged 16, he lived in Treagon. There he knew the people well, but at an evening, when he was in a pub with his friends, he saw this unknown man. Thirean drew his sword and grabbed his shield form his package, to be ready for an attack. The man gave another sign. Slowly they all did a few steps forward, making the circle smaller. A voice spoke: 'The end is near, your end is near.'
Those words were the last the man said. Now few dismounted their horses, while the others made the circle smaller. Then all people from the horses lifted their hands and attacked him from all sides. One took his shield, next took his sword an two others his arms. Thirean got a stroke at his head, and became unconscious. In his unconsciousness, he only noticed, that they went down in something like a cave.
