Redoran looked at the dying sun, unseeing as he tried to forget. The sun was going down in a flurry of crimson and amber even as the purple fingers of night crept from the east. It was an abstract battle of light and dark, played out everyday. Though he tried not to think or philosophize, the thought came to him that this battle will go on. There was no winner. There was no loser. Just an eternally unstoppable force meeting an infinitely unbreakable wall. To mere mortals with limited sense of morality, light represented all that was good. And dark all that was bad.

[i]As if you can parcel them into neat little packets of two,[/i] he thought. Didn't the sun burn the skin on hot days? Hadn't the night provided the soft murmurs of a comfortable sleep? Was there such a thing as purely good or purely evil?

He emitted a soft grunt of irritation. Again, he was letting his mind wander, like a dead leaf carried by the breeze. He had been training everyday to focus his mind, channel its attention to single point of nothingness, to detach himself from reality, to forget the reminders and fly like a bird. Needless to say it had been a total failure so far. And every time he tried to focus, the town behind him kept intruding.

With a sigh, he turned around to face the town that had magically appeared like a sudden rain cloud. For 30 years he had roamed these very lands and thought he knew every fold and crevice. And yet, here he was standing in the eastern borders of his kingdom, and here was a town, plain as a rock, that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He had been told to expect it, of course. But still, he was supposed to be an expert ranger of these lands!

Kirin Taq. A town of legend, it seemed. And a place where several fates will be decided.

With a grim set to his face, he mounted Shamran, his black warhorse, and let her walk into the town. As she stepped on to the cobblestoned path, he felt a rush of something pass him. It wasn't the wind. He absently fingered the ring on his left hand. Meru'rithil, set in a ring of silver.

The houses looked like skulls, staring out with empty sockets. Night fell quickly around him as he made his way through the 'town' - for want of a better word. There was something decidedly eerie about this place. If Prince Edgar hadn't vouched for this Shi'larra, he would have thought he was walking into the den of the Black Witch herself. He shivered slightly and felt his spine tingle. He turned a corner.

Immediately he tensed. The sight of an armored man is like a beacon to any knight. It is a sign of danger. But beyond a momentary tightening of his thighs on Shamran's saddle, he didn't let his worry show. The Prince [i]had[/i] vouched for this Shi'larra and this town [i]was[/i] supposed to be the safest place to meet. So many things that he had no control over.

As he approached the armored knight, he realized it was a woman. Wearing the armor of the Kingdom of the Rivers. So this was Alexis Chandle, who, if rumour was to be believed, was a protege of his host. His eyes instinctively went to her sword. It was a thing of beauty, long and gleaming. And she looked like she knew how to use it. Very well.

He approached her and dismounted. [b]"Well met,"[/b] he said, holding out his hand. [b]"I am Redoran, son of Rhuarn. And unless I am mistaken, you must be Alexis Chandle - the one they call Mia'lithil, Maiden of the River. Am I late?"[/b]