Kerrin crested the ridge and peered far down into the valley below. Just as Ramas had told them, the great legions of the Baronian army occupied the field like so many flies buzzing about a freshly slain carcass. The sun was beginning to set far to the West and the first lights of the evening were beginning to flicker both in the valley camp...and Doma. The travellers sat atop the ridge, their mounts and themselves both silent as they watched the eerie sea of tiny flames overwhelm the plane beneath the castle.
"My God...", mouthed Garon slowly at the sight of his proud brothers milling about aimlessly on the fringes of the camp.
"Not even God can save them now my Dragoon Lord...", spoke Daric solemnly, his head bowed and obvious signs of worry and distress upon his face.
"We camp here for a few hours while we assess what to do. The patrol can't be far behind, and If this is to be the place of my end...it will be on the field of true battle and not with the point of some snot-nosed boy's blade in my back."
With those words Kerrin rode off a short distance to the right of where they had all been gathered. A large outcropping of rock hung defiantly there, against the coming black onslaught of the night sky.
Tira dismounted and sent her mount off to where Kerrin and the others were beginning to set camp. Pulling back the sleeves and hood of her robes she knelt to the ground. If indeed they were going to fight, it would have to be on their terms...and there were far to many soldiers, airships, and Dragoons in the valley below to simply unleash a spell. She may be able to speak one incantation before they cut her down and she knew. She picked up two ash twigs laying by her side and began to draw and intricate pattern of strange and mysterious runes in the loose gravel and sand at her feet. When the pattern was finished, she drew two more circles, side by side, and placed her hands in them. By this time, the others had begun to watch with great interest. Kerrin was going to venture a question when the first luminescent, blue-white, tendril began to snake its way up the mountain peak and towards the sky. She should be safe here she realized, the troops on the plane would have an obscured view from where they were.
One by one, the strange, yet oddly beautiful lines of blue-white light converged toward the mountaintop, reaching their peak and coalescing at its summit. Once they had reached their destination, they pooled together, and formed a perfect circular ball of shimmering substance...radiated brightly for a moment, then sent a beam of pure, luminous, energy towads the heavens. Kerrin could see from where he and the others, even Daric, stood that Tira was obviously in pain. Whatever she was doing must be taxing to the extreme.
Her hands continued to shake violently even as she pulled away from the sand. The runes, so neatly and cryptically etched there glowing a faint yellow...The beam on the mountaintop flared brightly for a moment, then dissappeared...just as Tira collapsed.
Kerrin and Ramas ran to her side, The Scottsman skidding dangerously close to the edge of the ridge as he stopped himself from running over top of the body of the beautiful wizardess.
"Tira...", he said exasperated. Ramas was furiously checking for a pulse.
"Tira, are you alright? What in the name of Ojin did you just do?"
Her eyes fluttered once, then opened. Ramas drew back and sat quietly stunned beside The Scottsman as she raised herself up from the place where she lay.
"I've taken precautions Scottsman."
"What are you talking about Tira? What were the strange blue tendrils snaking up the mountain? And the light? What was the light? Was it some type of spell?"
"Something of that nature Kerrin.", she said groggily as if she had just awoke from a long nap.
"Well, what type of spell Tira?"
"I used my own spiritual energy to tap into the energy of the Soul-Stream. I created a massive pattern of energy to redirect, shift, and manipulate the weather patterns to the north. Ice, snow, and hail Kerrin..."
Daric and Garon sat very still as Ramas and Kerrin gazed at the woman in awe.
"You mean you moved the very heavens witch?", asked Daric almost sarcastically.
"I did "Westerner". With their airships grounded, there may be hope. I have simply delayed the inevitable. Perhaps now we can find a way into Doma without having to fight a impossible war."
"Amazing...", said The Scottsman and Ramas Vasha in unison.
"I admitt witch, you harbor powers beyond mortal comprehension...", said Daric, smiling ruefully as he did so.
Tira stood calmly and quickly. The dark, plush, silk of her order, The ORDER OF THE GREY WIND, fell seamlessly back into place. Obscuring her features just enough to provide a strangely seductive picture.
"And for those powers I've paid a horrible price...so, I would ask that you take advantage of what I have been able to provide."
Kerrin smiled down to the small, exotic, woman and grinned.
"I promise you Tira. Whatever sacrifice you've just made...it won't go in vain."
~The encampment, later that night~
The snow had, by that time, began to fall gently. The group had been almost completely silent since Tira's remarkable demonstration of power some 6 hours ago. The army in the valley no doubt would be severely confused as to what had happened. And Kerrin could only hope that Varian would use the freak storm to further fortify the mountain fortress.
"Kerrin...a word with you in private if I might?", said Daric in that regal tone that Kerrin had come to associate with some dark and foreboding disclosure the man would shurely make.
The two warriors slipped back down the ridge a slight ways from the others...who were all now sleeping quite soundly.
"What is it Daric?"
"Well Scottsman, I'm not certain that this is either the time or the place, but there is something I must show you before we go any further."
"Very well...what is this thing you must show me?"
Daric began to peel off the black leather gloves which guarded his most trusted possessions...his hands.
"You are marked Kerrin Scott. From the time you entered this world, you knew you were different...and so have others. Even the gods understand that you play a very significant and important role in the scheme of the universe my friend..."
"Daric please, enough with these things...", Kerrin was cut short as the "Westerner's" hand grasped his shoulder.
"Wait a moment. Hear me out."
Kerrin sighed heavily and acknowledged his acquiesence with a slight nod.
"Good. As I said, you've always know you were not like others. You heal at an astonishing rate, you're immortal, things that would kill mortal men...can't or won't do the same to you. And the last thing, or should I say things?"
"Daric what are you saying?"
Kerrin's question would recieve no vocalized response. Daric of Kaldone raised his palms towards The Scottsman's eyes. There, emebedded, as if they had been there since his birth lay the runes...
"They're...they're exactly...my god Daric...what...how...?"
Exactly the same. In his right palm, was a replica of the RUNE OF DESTINY, and in his left THE PROTECTORATE RUNE. Both identical to the pair of runes that Kerrin had always harbored himself.
"I don't know Kerrin. There is much I see, but so much more that I cannot.", his voice took on a dark and serious tone.
"But...I don't understand...", The Scottsman said wide-eyed with disbelief.
"Nor do I Kerrin. But I can tell you this...destiny brought me here to Yvalice, and the road you have to travel has only just begun. I cannot reveal to you all I know about the fates and how they have conspired. But believe me when I tell you this Kerrin Scott. We are brothers, not of the blood, but of the heart and the soul. We are and forever will be...two parts of the same vessel."
Kerrin slanted his eyes attempting to view the features of the strange man from Kaldone. It was dark, but Kerrin knew that if he could see...the man's gaze would be cold and hard as old steel.
"But why now Daric? Why tell me this now?"
"Because Kerrin. Even with the witch's help..."
"Watch your tongue "Westerner"..."
"Indeed. My sincere apologies. Anyway, we ride off tomorrow...and I do not know what may happen. I am certain of one thing. Neither you nor I will perish, but one of our party will. I cannot tell you what these things mean. I don't know what the runes are, or what purpose they serve and better than you. But, they have begun to sing their song...that much I can be certain of. They have warned us Kerrin...and we would do well to heed them."
Kerrin lay his hand on the blade of Ojin, a sword as old as time itself. He could feel the heat from his palm, and he knew without a doubt that were he to look down, he would see the faint red glow...