The young knight breathed heavily as the shaped smoke receded once more into the darkness, still gripping his spear as he tried chasing after it, to catch a glimpse of where it came from. But it proved too fast for him on the unfamiliar terrain. He was caught by the forest, unable to move past a thick wall of twisted branches and leaves. With one final snarl at the darkness, he lowered the spear to signal the battle was over.

	"It's gone... for now..." he muttered slowly, glancing around the red-tinted darkness, "But it would appear that it isn't a sort of invisibility trick at least. My spear struck nothingness. Perhaps it is simply a sleep inducing hex... but why are we resistant to its foul purpose?"

	He then knelt beside the still body of metal, flicking the visor of the helmet up and placing a finger underneath his nose. A faint breath. He was still alive. Mikhael lowered his head gratefully, but immediately looked up with a sternness as he tried to wake the man, patting him lightly at first then one hard smack against the cheek. He was out cold. With a sigh, Mikhael climbed himself back to his feet, shooting a look over at Ezekiel. 

"More importantly though, what will we do about him?"

...