Cloudy and humid days followed one after the other in the west of Mizuna. Revom's bones ached, but no amount of pain could keep the man bedridden for long.

The Regent led his congregation from Eastfront through the northwestern forests, trails he and his people had already taken on previous hunts. After that, they crossed the so-called 'cursed hills' to which the locals always mention the presence of demons and marked ones. Undoubtedly, with a contingent of perhaps a hundred members of the Order of the White Flame, he would dissuade those creatures from any action.

It was long, cold days where riders, priests, and warriors marched in line through the place, finally arriving at the banks of the Gollow River. Revom stood with his horse at one end of the bridge which crossed the river, watching to his left, lost in the flow of the water. That riverbed flowed out near Lastrel, and with that thought, he couldn't help but think of this dreadful plan his superiors had orchestrated to hunt down a dangerous Adhaz member.

A group of horses broke away from the line that had formed, and with a gentle canter, the Regent's apprentices approached him.

"Regent, is everything in order?" asked Hardel, the youngest of his apprentices.

The old man nodded, and trying to evade the matter, he put his mind back to that place where they were going.

"Wow, they're leaving everything on the battlefield." So expressed the most muscular of the three apprentices, Eizell, as he pointed to the curtains of black smoke rising in the distance.

"That's where we're going," exclaimed Revom, turning his horse and looking at his group of students.

While all the members of his congregation could be considered apprenticed to him, he certainly had the right to choose to provide further training to a small, more select group.

Eizell, a young Dryndan, curly and vigorous, was the eldest of his apprentices; the young man hadn't taken the Order's vows as a member of the White Flame, the Circle of Tisvar, but as a member of the Black Flame, The Fist of Rivris. Then there was the one who had ridden the furthest back of the three, Sorika. The girl was a Mordian with short red hair and a steady gaze of brown eyes; she was in body and soul a model girl of the Order, faithful and devoted to the Council of Five. Lastly, Hardel is also a boy from the Mordia Empire and a novice par excellence.

"Hardel, the saddlebag," Revom soon pointed out once he saw his pupils.

The boy with almost white blond hair soon turned his black eyes to the right side of his horse, then to the left, and gave a surprised gasp as he saw how his bags were open, realizing that perhaps he had lost something along the way.

"You didn't lose anything?" asked Sorika, smiling.

Hardel raised his gaze to the girl and saw his notebook full of dust and mud in her hands.

"Oh, not again..." exclaimed Hardel in frustration and under his breath.

"Sorika," Revom caught the attention of his scribe, "Did you get any messages from the front?"

The girl softly denied, "I haven't received another message since morning, Regent."

The girl pulled a thick book from the black leather bag of his horse. The red leather-covered book had an eye detail on its cover, a symbol representing Cyonar, the Mordian god of Magic and Vision.

The girl opened the book and took the divider where it had a message ready to be sent. The girl then rested her hand on the book, and after a few soft words, a paper bird flew out of her book. The little bird carried an order in front of it about advancing them across the Gollow River.

Revom watched as the bird was lost in the sky.

Sorika added, "Miznian General's name is Ebir Noblespear, he's a veteran of the Malinland War, and he's not very happy to see us here."

"No one is ever happy to see us arrive," Revom expressed.

"If they had listened to us months ago, maybe this wouldn't be happening," Eizell spat.

"Be sure to leave those words here, boy," the Regent expressed firmly. "I don't want any fuss once we get to the camps."

"Regent," Hardel caught the eye of his leader, who turned to look at him. "Does this marked one relate to the events at Eastfront?"

Revom sighed and grimaced as he recalled the event, "I doubt it. Still, we must be careful, as he is a trickster."

"What about him being a Trickster, regent?" asked Eizell, "He's not as tough as a Warrior nor as powerful as a Mage."

"No, you're right, he's not," replied Revom, "Nevertheless, he has mobilized hundreds of Miznians and Elves to kill each other on the borders. Had our people not thoroughly investigated the situation, perhaps these lands would have experienced a new war."

"Poor souls," Hardel expressed with sadness.

"Not to be discouraged," Revom said, ready to ride again. "We have come all this way to accomplish our goal, to hunt down that demon. Now march, my students, and let us take our words, talent, and swords to where they are needed."

Revom's calm and steady words once again motivated his students to march onward and thus through the woodlands to the Miznian camps.

Beyond the Gollow River, where the forests and hills ended by rough stone paths, a vast camp stood in the middle of the plains. Revom and his students were far from where the marked trickster had hidden, a border town known as Misthaven. They could see the farms near the city that had been burned in the distance and, even farther away, the smokescreens of the sieges.

As they advanced toward the camp, the bodies, the wounded, and the dying piled up among the crowded tents.

From the entrance to those camps, the horsemen rode carrying the banners raised once more with the symbol of the Order of the White Flame standing before mankind.

The priests wore white robes and tunics and were attired for war with breastplates wherein was carved the flaming eye of Tisvar, an eye that watched with righteous justice over mankind and pursued the enemies with a blazing fire that purged the guilt of this world.

"Brothers, sisters, fulfill your missions and protect the lives of our people!" exclaimed Revom firmly.

"Our fire purifies!" was heard in unison from the Order contingent.

Revom rode with his apprentices and a personal guard to the center of the camp. There, one could smell the scent of animals, hear the hammering of blacksmiths, and also the shouts and orders of the captains. Many of those shouts and commands were not only in Miznian but also in Elvish.

"The Akajsi are here as well," Hardel pointed out.

The blond boy watched a group of soldiers from Hilree, the western elven lands, on the left side of the camp. The elven men were sharpening weapons and keeping a certain distance from the humans. The boy watched them but also paid attention to their weapons and armor; they looked stylish and not at all practical, but in his ignorance, he was also unaware of how the elves fought.

"Don't look at them too much, or they might steal your soul," Eizell teased with a smirk which soon turned haughty as a group of akajsis watched him mount his horse. "We came all this way to win your war; you should be happy..."

The language differences between everyone meant that no one could understand each other. Therefore, diplomats and translators were a must at this time as one wrong gesture could cause trouble.

Revom got off his horse, his feet sank into the mud, and he had to move forward with his humble wooden staff. His apprentices trailed behind him, and a small group of soldiers in black armor followed as his bodyguards.

The old Regent entered the tent that served as headquarters, and as was the case outside, the akajsis stood on the left side of the tent while the humans stood on the right side.

"Regent Revom," exclaimed General Ebir Noblespear, a man in full armor with several medals hanging on one of his shoulder pads.

"General Ebir," greeted promptly and courteously the old man, leaning on his staff with both hands. "It is a pleasure to have you in our camp."

Soon, the general gestured to his counterparts at the other end of the table, an Akajsi man and an Akajsi woman, "May I present General Tanniar and General Urionna of the Hilree lands."

"Pleasure to be ours," General Urionna, a young-looking girl, soon said.

"Pleasure is mine, General Urionna," replied with a nod that man in Akaj.

Tanniar showed astonishment on his face as he heard her fluent, soft-spoken language in a human's mouth.

"Well, I guess we'll have another translator," exclaimed Ebir, making his presence known at the table. "I won't be needing your services, miss."

From among the people at the table, Revom noticed a young, plainly dressed girl he recognized almost instantly. The small, slender girl was Lady Myra, a member of the Order of the Blue Eye, the Order's espionage corps, and whom he had seen at Martyr Axlind's demesne.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my quarters," the girl said with a nod and a smile."

The girl exchanged glances with Revom, who soon returned to the business at the table.

"General Ebir, what have we got?" asked the Regent.

"The battles have been bloody, but we've cornered them in Misthaven," the general said as translators whispered the words to the Akajsis. "The bad news, there are still civilians inside their walls, and they refuse to surrender the city."

Tanniar nodded, and after looking at the general, he spoke in Akaj, "The enemy is called Trelan. He lived hidden among us until he caused trouble in the region of Nioranora."

The elf pointed to the borders between Mizuna and Hilree, a vast wooded region.

Then, he continued, "Trelan is a greedy monster who wanted to seize land between Mizuna and us to rule..."

"What are you saying?" asked Ebir to Revom. Though he did not show it with his face, it was evident in his voice that there was some distrust.

"He's filling me in on the situation, General," the old man replied calmly before nodding to the elf to continue.

"We had fought with the Miznians, but we have put our troubles behind us... At least, for now." Tanniar watched the general intently.

"General Ebir, do you know how many men the enemy has?"

"He has enough troops to hold off our attacks," Ebir explained. "However, we have vital information thanks to changing sides."

Revom watched the general with intrigue, who soon pointed to a tall man at one end of the tent. The man had remained seated all that time, and it was then that he walked over to where the war table.

"Regent Revom, this is Reber, part of your men have mutinied against Trelan, and many more will."

The Regent looked at the man, who returned his gaze and a smile.

"A pleasure to meet you, Regent Revom..."

"You were a bandit?" asked Revom without hesitation.

Ebir cleared his throat, "He is a person who has made mistakes..."

"Rats are the symbols of your group," Revom pointed to the man's armor shoulder pad, "As far as I know, your people caused a riot on Eastfront."

"Nonsense, we never engineered an attack on Eastfront," Reber abruptly denied. "Even when there were men of ours locked up, none of them ever thought of-"

"what information do you possess?" interrupted Revom.

Reber cleared his throat, and Revom noticed annoyance on the man's face.

Then, he explained, "We came together weeks ago planning to seek shelter. Many of us are veterans of an unjust war, so we saw Trelan as a way to escape trouble. However, several of us soon realized that error, and when we had a chance, we decided to fake a diplomatic exit with him. Trelan's Generals are fearful and seek to settle this diplomatically, but they will only do so if there is an intermediary..."

"That's why we call you, Regent..." exclaimed Ebir.

Revom quizzed the general, "You want me to talk to him?"

"Talk?" exclaimed Hardel loudly, who was soon elbowed by Sorika.

"The generals are willing to hand over Trelan and several of the forerunners of this revolt if someone will give them a certainty that their heads will not roll."

"They don't know he's dangerous," Urionna soon exclaimed, pointing to the palm in front of Regent Revom.

Revom looked at the woman, the men, and Reber, "You want the forgiveness of your people?"

"I want what is right for my men and me," Reber pointed out, "the previous war took so much from us; I just wanted to regain some of my dignity..."

Revom watched as Ebir seemed to fall for the words of that bandit, now turned leader. It was to be expected that there would be some kind of sympathy clouding judgment among veterans of an unjust and bloody war.

"Regent..." approached Sorika to her master hesitantly.

"I will," Revom said without hesitation.

At the table, as around it, all but Ebir and Reber watched him in awe. The akajsis, his apprentices, no one believed he had accepted.