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At first, Toryn could not be sure, but as the light of the new day grew, the Archon's blue banner could be seen flapping high in the sky, far to the south. Hamar had said you could see it from ten leagues, but they had to be at least twice that distance from the city. Toryn smiled; perhaps not all Hamar’s tales were as tall as the Archon’s Tower.

Toryn sat back on the rocky ledge jutting out from the hillside and let out a long sigh. They had made it. He and Hope had trekked virtually the entire length of the Five Realms to stand within reach of their goal: the great fortress city of Archonholm. Just the sight lifted his spirits. Archonholm had been the foundation of the realms north of the Caerwals as Toryn’s ancestors had searched for fertile lands to feed their growing numbers. And since the days of the war, the city had served as the guardian against the evil amassing on the other side of the gate, not content with conquering the lands south of the mountains.

Toryn lay back and inhaled the clear, blue sky as he listened to the birds. He watched them flutter overhead and whistled along, taking heart from their eternal melody. It had taken the best part of three weeks to wend their way through Kernlow’s golden fields of wheat and barley, before giving way to the green vineyards of Gwelayn. The wide plain rose to deliver them to Farrand; the southern-most realm. Once through the ward of Tamarand, they had finally reached Holm. At first, the open skies to the east exposed by the end of the Kolossos Mountains, had unsettled Toryn. He had lived his life with the ever-present ridge protecting him from the bitter easterly winds, and for most of his journey had been be a useful guide. But their abrupt end suddenly made the world a bigger, more daunting place.

Now another feature dominated where the mountains ended — the Great Foranfae Forest. Toryn climbed to his feet and found his eyes drawn to its expansive green canopy. The trees stretched from close to where he stood on the east slopes of the Menon Hills, right out to the horizon, dominating the ward of Holm. Of all the regions of the Five Realms, Foranfae numbered among the few as yet unexplored. Even Hamar had limited knowledge, although it had not stopped his dear friend pondering what terrible wonders were hidden within. Hamar reckoned a power lay in its trees, only the Archon could muster. Toryn speculated whether a Singing Stone stood at its center, but he had not the time to consider the mysteries of the forest — his objective lay south.

Toryn looked back towards Archonholm. He gasped. As the morning haze lifted, what he had first taken to be clouds, turned out to be the snow-crested peaks of the Caerwals. As far as he could see from east to west, the sheer line of the mountains rose reassuringly high and impenetrable.

Toryn turned to find Hope standing at his side. As before, she had changed as they progressed through Kernlow, leading Toryn to believe a Singing Stone had to be in their midst. Her eyes had cleared and Toryn saw a glimpse of the Hope from the timeless wood. She gazed at the mountains, and Toryn thought he saw a flicker of recognition. Her eyes widened; her mouth gaped. Toryn took her hand — it was cold despite the warm day. ‘What is it?’

Hope’s head shook slowly. ‘An unfamiliar voice… in the Song.’ She searched his face as she struggled to come to terms with the change. She mumbled. ‘A great power, a very, great power.’ She took a step away from Toryn, twisting her head. ‘It’s everywhere. All around.’

Toryn’s heart sank. ‘The Ul-dalak?’

She wavered. ‘I… I’m not sure.’ Her lips trembled. ‘I cannot tell. It could be one of my Order, but... different, strong… such power. It comes from—’ She tilted her head and frowned. ‘Far away, far to the south, many leagues yonder.’

‘The Archon. It has to be, he must be of your kind.’

She continued as if not hearing his reply. ‘Over mountains, tall mountains, like a great wall.’

Toryn stared at the horizon. ‘But it cannot be, that’s beyond the gate, outside the Five Realms. Nothing could—’

‘No!’ Her head turned as if trying to find the meaning from the mountain wall. ‘It’s a warning... or a threat...’

Toryn shivered. ‘From the old realms? What does—?’

Hope clung to his arm, gripping so tight it hurt. She gasped. ‘We’re in great danger. Your leader is in peril. The Archon cannot hear. He does not listen.’ Hope stiffened. She whispered through her clenched jaw. ‘It’s found me. It sees me.’

Hope clutched her head, screamed, then sagged into Toryn’s arms. He staggered back, gently lowering her to the ground. He scanned the ledge, convinced unseen eyes were upon them, but they remained alone. Hope’s chest rose and fell rapidly, but as he cradled her crumpled body, her breathing slowed, and she drifted into a deep slumber. He wiped away a trickle of blood seeping from her ear, constantly checking for signs of their watcher. Hope needed to rest, but while they stayed on the exposed ledge, they were vulnerable. He had no choice but to move her to a sheltered spot. Toryn scooped his arms beneath and gently lifted her so not to disturb her sleep. He checked his footing and carried Hope to a thicket down the slope.

Once under cover, he placed her on a soft bed of undergrowth and stepped back. To his relief, she slept peacefully and appeared to have suffered no harm from the encounter. Despite the shelter from the bushes, Toryn could not shake the uneasy feeling of being watched. He looked out to the forest. The climbing sun warmed the thick canopy of the Foranfae, enticing the trees to release the cool night air still trapped beneath its boughs. Toryn watched the mist rise and thought back to the tale of the Three Maidens. If the Gods truly raised the peaks of the Kolossos to save the world from the falling sky, the unprotected forest would have been flattened had the Evil One succeeded. Now, the threat came not from above, but from the south, and more recently, the north. Who would save them this time? Did the old Gods still watch over them? Or had they abandoned the world as the tales told, leaving mortals to fend for themselves. Toryn guessed they were long gone, and the destiny of the Five Realms lay in the hands of the Archon. But Hope had claimed he was in peril.

She stirred. Toryn turned to find the old, confused Hope from the grasslands of Dorn. He held out a hand. She took it without question, and he led her out from the bushes and down the slope. He turned before their path dipped below the ridge to look once more to the towers of Archonholm. His joy on seeing the Archon’s banner deserted him. The journey was the straightforward part. The real challenges lay ahead.

Hope stumbled and stopped. She stared at Toryn as if unsure of her young companion. Her brow furrowed. ‘Where are we going?’

Toryn placed his arm around her stooped shoulders. ‘Remember the voice from the Song?’ She nodded. He pointed south. ‘It says we must go to Archonholm. We have to deliver a vital message to the leader of the Five Realms.’