Prologue
Zafol dragged himself along, the wind howling in his ears. He was sure that he was near death, for his movement was becoming painful and his joints and armor stiff. His horse had fallen from the cold and hour ago, and he felt he was soon doomed to the same fate. In his mind he thought, this is not how Knights die. I was just escorting Orphius to deliver a message, and now I’m about to die, and not with honor in battle, but with pity in a Darkstorm. Zafol knew that if the cold didn’t kill him, then the legendary Gridon would. Finally, when he could walk no more he fell to his knees and let out a mighty below that could be heard for miles around. Then, with no more strength, he dropped to the snow, drifting away slowly. Just before life left him, he looked up and saw the shadow of a mighty beast. In his heart, he knew what it was, and was thankful that he would not have to face it. As the beast approached, life left him, and finally, peace.
