The sun began its slow descent from the zenith, creeping closer to the western horizon with each passing minute. The fog-covered fortress cast a wide, dark shadow. It loomed over the land like the sword of Damocles.

  He checked his mana pool again as they passed Martin’s old camp. Both smaller crimson clouds of mana were there. He sighed a breath of relief. They’re still alive.

  Looking at the sky to check the sun again, a thick, dark layer of clouds obscured it fully. They had covered the entire sky. The wind felt damp now, making the cold even worse.

  “You wouldn’t…” he muttered as a drop fell on his forehead. “Oh you bloody bastard!” He shouted into the air with frustration. “Now of all times?” Of all the days, now it started to rain. It was unbelievable.

  More drops fell on his head and back. Cinder shook its head a couple of times, though it still ran as fast as before.

  What’s more unbelievable is that we had over five days of bright sun and warmth. Despite the terrain changing drastically, they were still in Britain after all.

  The dark clouds lit up with a flash of lightning. Thunder boomed, startling both him and Cinder. The Stallion slowed, looking around frantically.

  “It’s just thunder, keep going!” Alaric shouted as heavy rainfall began. Cinder sped up again, but as the rain started form small puddles, and turned the dirt into slippery mud, it was forced to go slower than its usual speed.

  Bloody hell. He shot a glance at the sky. He couldn’t even see the sun anymore. I hope this doesn’t mean they can start appearing now. He nervously looked towards the fog-covered fortress. The thick layer of dark grey fog still swirled around the structure, though the rain seemed to disturb it quite a bit.

  He turned his gaze forward again, covering his eyes from the rain with his left hand. They galloped as the rain grew heavier and the terrain more slippery. Despite the mud and small pools of water everywhere, Cinder didn’t slow further down.

  Minutes turned into hours. The only thing that allowed him to know the passage of time was the countdown slowly ticking. Nervous, he watched his surroundings as the terrain flowed past him. He couldn’t quite feel his fingertips anymore. He was soaked, even his feet were numb in his boots.

  I’ll warm by the fire. He promised himself. Just little more, and he’d be back at camp.

  The rain grew stronger. It was almost as dark out as it night. Sunlight couldn’t pierce the thick, dark clouds. The occasional lightning illuminated the landscape for a moment, but it was hardly enough. Constantly glancing at the fog-covered fortress, he trusted Cinder to take him back to camp.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Hours later, a small, partially covered glimmer of light in the distance flickered in and out of his vision. Heavy rainfall blocked most of his surroundings, but his gaze remained fixed on the light. Each passing second brought him closer to it. Cinder neighed, speeding up all of a sudden, almost as if it had also realised they were close. A long distance still, but with Cinder’s speed, it wouldn’t take more than ten minutes.

  He glanced at the countdown.

  24:01

  His heart sank. Just a few minutes – it’ll be fine!

  24:00

  He watched the minute tick by, and the countdown drop below a full day.

  23:59

  Fog rolled over him like an avalanche. Silhouettes prowled in the dark fog as howls rang in his ears.

  “Hurry!” he hissed, leaning forward. Cinder, already running as fast as possible, didn’t react to his words. The stallion leapt over something, landed on the muddy ground, and continued galloping towards the flickering flame in the distance.

  Every second felt like an eternity. The flame grew larger and larger. People’s voices reached his ears. Someone shouted his name. A wolf howled, not to threaten, but to celebrate. He saw their silhouettes.

  Something crackled behind him. Lightning struck somewhere in the distance, and thunder boomed right after.

  A tall figure, illuminated by the lightning strike, raised his arm. Cinder neighed as a warning, but the stallion was already running as fast as it could. Alaric flinched as a loud crack echoed, then something wrapped around his torso.

  The saddle slid out from under him. He found himself mid-air for a second, then fell onto the muddy ground. A pained groan escaped his lips. The world spun, and the heavy rain blurred his vision. Heart pounding, he rolled on all fours, then got up on his knees.

  Heavy footsteps approached.

  “You played a foolish gamble, human.” A deep, raspy voice boomed from the Knight’s helmet. He held a whip in hand, burning softly with Wyrdflame. “You shall answer now – or forfeit your life.”

  Or? His eyes narrowed. What do you mean ‘or’?

  “How have you taken control of my brethren’s steed. Of our hunting hounds?” The knight approached. His heavy armour clanked with each step. “How have you come to understand Enochian?”

  “A curse,” Alaric wheezed. “From the Empyrean. A curse of knowledge.” Cinder would have made it back by now. The mana core was in safe hands. And he was close enough to the Hallowed Ground that if he could just distract the knight for a moment…

  The knight tilted his head in response. “The curse of knowledge is rarely dealt. Had you not strayed from your Hallowed Ground, and thus forfeited your life, your story could have grown to be one worthy of the Gods’ attention.”

  “What do you want from me?” Alaric shouted over the pouring rain as he found the strength to get up. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to do away with the numbness in his fingers.

  “A simple execution is sure to anger the gods, human.” The Knight raised his chin. “So let us entertain them, to the best of our abilities.” He raised his hand. Wyrdflame danced on the whip. “I call a hunt on your soul – starting as your safety ends. Run, human – for we are coming!”

  WARNING – THE PROFANED LEGION HAS CALLED A HUNT FOR YOUR SOUL

  YOU HAVE DRAWN THE ATTENTION OF MANY GODS

  “Let go of him!” Grass, glimmering crimson, grew rapidly, weaving a fragile wall between Alaric and the Knight. He spun around without hesitation and ran towards the voice. His boots slipped on the wet mud and grass.

  The whip cracked, the wall of grass burst into silver flames. Something hit his back, sending him flying. A scream escaped his lips as his skin burned. He fell to the ground, to the edge of the tallgrass. Hands grabbed him and pulled him back, to safety. As his vision blurred, he saw the knight turn around and walk away.