[center][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/berserk/images/5/57/BTCG-Skull_Knight-OI.png/revision/latest?cb=20170930084349[/img][/center] [center][i]"It is time for those who choose the way of the sword to suffer the consequences of their choice."[/i][/center] [hr] Alexander stared blankly at the horizon. The sun was creeping towards it at an ever increasing rate. However, Alexander knew that he wasn't going to be late. Not for what he had planned tonight. Grigori, his horse, walked at a slow pace towards Wanderneir. By all accounts of logic Alexander should've arrived in Wanderneir well after sundown, but Alexander was known to defy logic on occasion. Alexander slapped the reigns into Grigori's neck lightly, and the surrounding setting blurred as Grigori moved. When everything came back into focus Alexander was riding down the main pathway of Wanderneir castle with Grigori walking at a steady pace once more. Only, he was not riding towards the castle, he was riding away from it. Far in front of Alexander was a young man wearing what appeared to be magical robes and a mask made from bone. Alexander did not approach this man, as he did not yet have a reason to. However, Alexander could sense something off about this young man. His instincts told him that this young man was destined to encounter something tonight. Alexander wanted to see what exactly that would be. Alexander knew that Kurata had known monsters of myth and magic for some time, but Alexander was also aware of the closeness of the realm between life and death. This closeness would inspire new beings to encroach upon Kurata. The old legends were changing, and word of mouth could no longer be trusted. What was once a peace offering could now be bait to lure something terrible. Alexander let out a slight hum as he considered the future implications of his return to Kurata. The world would be changing soon, and it would be changing in ways that seemed irrevocable. Nothing to be done about that change. Alexander merely had to kill the effects of it. The shadow that followed such a change brought shelter to many new terrors. Alexander could not kill them all, but perhaps his example would inspire others to take up arms. If they didn't, Alexander hoped that their deaths were at least quick. They probably wouldn't be, from what Alexander remembered of the cruelty that was inflicted upon him during his time away from Kurata. Grigori plodded along steadily as Alexander paced about his own mind. Even if Alexander was unfocused Grigori knew what Alexander sensed. The horse would follow the young man until what Alexander anticipated happened, or until Alexander was proven wrong. Focusing on the task at hand once more, Grigori wondered what exactly the young man he was following could do. Grigori's profession was rather obvious: Grigori fought. Magical robes were something else. Was the man simply a medium, or a true mage? What kind of magic did he use? How much magic did he use? Or was the whole thing a farce? Alexander was not eager to know, given his history with mages. But at least now he was better suited to his chosen role in life.