Prologue.

The dark figure appeared from between the trees into the clearing. The castle was not too far away now, and despite his heavy breathing and fast-beating heart, he had no time to rest. He would have to make the run now, while it was still dark, before daylight made the open field between the forest from which he had come and the castle a death sentence.

The man pulled his dark cloak tighter around him, the trees that offered protection from the cold wind now behind him. He would have to be stealthy and fast, to escape the eagle eyes of the archers on the walls and the light of dawn that would make their work too easy.

He would have to move like an animal. For him, this was no hard task. A task heavier and harder than this awaited him in the walls of the castle. But he knew that forces greater than him were at work to ensure his success.

When he got to the wall he saw the little bush and tiny slab of concrete left a little open for him. Any ordinary man would never have seen it, but then no ordinary man would've made it this far.

He pushed the slab aside effortlessly and crawled through the tunnel carved by men way smaller than him, replacing the slab in its place. Now only someone who knew it was there would ever find the opening. And even then, it would be hard.

The tunnel led to the dungeons where he had been informed he would have to get past the guards, who lucky for them, were stationed to prevent people from going in the dungeons and not out.

He stealthily moved past them, making a ruffle they assumed to be a rat, and waited in the shadows of the abandoned and overgrown ruins behind the dungeons as he had been instructed.

"We didn't expect you to make it." a deep, rough voice behind him said seconds after he had made himself comfortable on a rock behind a bush, " do you have a message?"

The man took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the deep voice without looking at its owner.

He waited as the person behind him read and burned the paper, the little flame washing the dark in orange, if only for ten seconds.

"Your sacrifice will not be for nothing." the voice said.

When the cloaked figure turned around, the man was gone. The only evidence he had been there, the palace uniform he had left on the grass. The figure took it and wore it over its clothes, almost sorry for the poor guard who had to die to get him the uniform.

It hid the sword it carried in the bushes, hurting at having to part with the perfect blade carved by his father's skilled hands.

And as the rays of the rising sun hit the old ruins of the overgrown ruins, the figure was gone. Knowing he had a difficult task ahead, where failure was not an option. Though not religious, he prayed for patience. He would have to be meticulous with the task.