The mighty steed Slayer slowed from its gallop to a halt.

Blackstone dismounted smoothly and aided Beya down from her horse.

The armored man walked to the edge of a large dark forest. In the distance, a large clock sat crooked with half of its structure long gone. Tattered flags of blue, red and white flapped in the wind. This was once a place called London, a capital city of a land called England.

Like many countries during the Ages, things had changed - for better and for worse.

Blackstone reached out into nothingness with his gloved hand. "You stated this is the place where the portal appears..." The armored man was always semi-shrouded in shadows, only his eyes showed and they glowed with either burn or simmer. Standing next to the armored muscled giant, Beya was dwarfed in size. Yet her eyes drank Blackstone in entirely.

The large, dark crystal in his chestplate reflected a shine of moonlight.

"Yes," Beya answered. The woman's dark curls were caught by the chilly night air. "This is where my mistress was said to be held captive!" Her words were cut off by her breaking voice. She turned herself into Blackstone's massive form.

He placed his hand on her shoulder in cold comfort.

"Such a portal will appear just before sunrise. We camp here. We wait. We rest."

###

The camp fire crackled. The heating device Blackstone used the start the small blaze was captivating as it oscillated with a crimson crystal set within a metal, technological frame.

The silent man sat, large and imposing, with the flickering of fire dancing on his armor. The warrior checked and re-checked his weapons. The blades were sharpened to perfection. The firearms were cleaned and charged for absolute lethality.

Beya's borrowed steed was resting. The fierce horse Slayer had been fed and put down for the night.

Beya lie on the ground on the other side of the fire. She had shoulder length hair that was full of waves and curls. Her skin was perfect and had a desert beige to it. She had large dark eyes with heavy lashes and an innocence to her gaze.

The woman's lips were full and parted sweetly when she smiled. Under her cloak, her body could not be seen.

She sat up and the moonlight and firelight competed in her eyes. She looked once again at Blackstone.

"I've never seen such a beautiful place," the young woman began. "I grew up in the streets of Kroyshire... Not many things there one would want to see..."

The man was silent. He did not move.

Beya drew a breath and blew it into her hands. "H-How...how did you meet my mistress?"

The man inhaled and it seemed he could draw in the entire forest. "That is a long story for a longer night."

Beya nodded. "I--forgive me--I have seen you in her court. Several times when you rode in freely. Twice when she had you...captured. What was that name she called you?"

The wanderer gave no expression for he had none to give. His horned helmet cocked slightly downward. "Pebbles. And the Gray Lady and I have a... unique relationship. I ceased attempting to define it."

The campfire crackled.