Viitor continued to push his armasar, though the animal was barely able to remain standing on its own, let alone with a grown male on his back. But the clan was only a single mile out from the gates of the city. They had walked nearly half the length of the continent in an effort to escape the militia at their last encampment. Viitor had not wanted to stop in that region at all but his clan had marched past their limits and needed rest. They had planned to stay only long enough to eat and get a few hours of sleep then continue, because Viitor had known that the area was not friendly to magic users. In the middle of the night the local militia had come to investigate the smoke from their fires and gave the clan of 1500 members one hour to pack and get over the province's border before they began to take prisoners. The clan had hurried but did not manage to cross the border before five of their members were taken. A wife of one of the males had charged the soldiers in an attempt to save her husband and had been greeted with an arrow through her right eye. Most of the clan had screamed and retreated but Viitor, in a rage, had turned his armasar, Caine, around and charged toward the soldiers. Several arrows flew past him and a swordsman rode towards him on his horse, but Viitor only had to thrust out his hand and the swordsman fell off of his horse, fast asleep. The other three men had been archers, on foot. Viitor directed Caine towards the man who had shot the female and Caine penned the man to the ground. The other men had run away at the sight of the giant hound. Viitor slipped down from Caine's back and bent down to look at the man. As he removed the man's helmet he saw that the man was paying him no attention, for he was completely focused on Caine's bared teeth. Viitor placed his long, green thumb and forefinger on the man's forehead and temple and closed his eyes.  Behind his eyelids he saw visions of a woman stirring a pot, smiling at him, the same woman kissing him passionately as he left home, then he saw a little boy with a small, toy bow and arrow acting like his father. Viitor took these visions and manipulated them. The woman was now covered in bloody, painful pox, she lay in bed dying of a fever. The boy was starving in an orphanage, bruised from being beaten. Viitor opened his eyes and looked down at the horrified, miserable face of the man as tears ran down the sides of his face. "Now you see.", Viitor said to the man. "You have stolen a mother away from her child, and attempted to take his father as well. You see the pain that it brings to watch the one you love die. You see the suffering of an orphan child." The man was now looking at Viitor through his tears, no longer caring what Caine could do to him. "I hope that from this point on, when you raise your bow, you think on these visions." Viitor raised his hand and the man fell into a fitful sleep. Viitor mounted Caine once more and led his people across the border before the reinforcements, that he knew would be coming, arrived. Three days later, with very little food or water, and no sleep, they now approached a safe haven. Viitor was sad that he had needed to use his power in that way. He felt that it was a senseless act that would only intensify the man's fear of the magical arts. But, as he rode through the gates of the friendly city, Viitor felt relieved knowing that his clan would be safe. His relief was tainted, however, with the knowledge that he had only been able to protect [i]most[/i] of his clan.