Dawn. The sky, streaked with strands of white and grey. The air, filling Landor's lungs as he woke, fresh and cold. He wondered what had awoken him, when he saw Dûrost, who looked fully awake, and not least to say, a bit annoyed. 

"This is not the time for a long sleep!" Dûrost said. "- I don't know how you do it anyhow- the ground is far too hard and rough. Although my bed at home could've been softer as well."

"Eh?" Landor grunted, also annoyed at being woken. "What's that about soft beds? - I could do with one at the moment." He mumbled, still half asleep.

"I said get up, you lazy cow!" Dûrost rolled his eyes, half amused, half exasperated. When Landor made no sign of moving, Dûrost began kicking leaves onto Landor to make him get up.

"Fine! Fine! Just stop kicking the leaves!" said Landor. He got up and swung his pack over his shoulder. Dûrost calmed down then, and his expression softened slightly.

"Sorry about that, lad. I was in a rush to get going. The Fords are a few days away. Rïduren is even further, but, it will seem short once we have reached Ithìlïon- you know, the safe lands." Dûrost explained. "It is our destination- hopefully- and worth the hard journey at least to see the Silver Tower of Lithuas. Or the elven city of Hereduas, not to mention the dwarves!"

"Lithuas, Hereduas, what's the difference?" Landor asked, puzzled.

"I know it's confusing, but 'uas' means 'city' and 'lith' means 'mountain'. Whereas 'hered' means 'forest'. Hopefully that gives you some idea of what these cities are like. You will understand if we arrive." Dûrost said.

"If we arrive? If?" Landor asked, colour draining from his face.

"Er..." Dûrost paused uncomfortably, before sighing. "Yes. I did tell you it was dangerous." He muttered impatiently. "What did you expect? Riding on fine stallions? Sailing gracefully into the  sunset without a care in the world? Likely." Dûrost gave a derisive snort, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I never said I expected that!" Landor yelled, looking rather taken aback at his friend's ill temper. "I-I just didn't expect you to be so pessimistic..." He trailed off, staring at the ground. 

"Shhh!- Don't shout so loudly! You never know who is listening around here." Dûrost whispered. "But I am sorry for losing my temper." He looked genuinely apologetic. "Anyway, there could be goblins waiting to ambush us. Or even a band of arka!" Seeing a look of horror creeping onto Landor's face, Dûrost added swiftly "- But the latter is easy to hear yourself, they fight so much."

"But I have a feeling that they don't just fight amongst themselves." Landor whispered back.

"Yes, they are dangerous." Dûrost concluded firmly. "Got to have your wits about you. You just can't afford to let your fear take over you when your life is at stake. Your life in particular- the hopes of the people rest on your shoulders, Landor. Remember the prophecy?"

"Yes. Something about my sword, and me being a 'great warrior'. As far as I am concerned, that is even less likely than sailing into the sunset on a fine stallion, without any worries." He gave a shaky laugh. Great warrior, indeed. My swordsmanship is pathetic. I am just a simple farmhand. How can anyone expect me to succeed in this quest and rid the world of Zurin? Landor hesitated. "And the end of the prophecy said something about..." Landor racked his brain, trying desperately to understand the rest of what the prophecy had said, but to no avail. "Dûrost?" Landor called him.

"Yes? What?" said Dûrost. "What do you want this time?" He chuckled.

"What did the last line of the prophecy mean?" Landor queried. "You know, about that stone that got lost?"

"I-umm- well, I don't really know, to be honest! I have always wondered what it meant, and many times I have tried to figure it out. Now I know some of it- the part about you- but the stone? No, I am afraid not." Dûrost replied. "Your father was a trustworthy man. He never told me anything that I wasn't supposed to know. He kept almost all of his work a complete secret. Hardly anyone at all knows the secrets of the Five. And it is just as well, because otherwise Lithuas would be but another pawn of the King Zurin."

"How could words lead to such destruction?" Landor asked, shocked.

"You have yet to learn many things, Landor. Don't be fooled. Knowledge is power. Think of it like this: a word, being such a small thing, could be compared to the tiny movement that you make when you release a bowstring. That releases an arrow, which does much damage. But the damage caused by the arrow could have greater consequences if the person it kills is a king. It could start a war. This war we are in was not started by an arrow. It was started with a word." Dûrost answered.

"One single word?" Landor said.

"Yes, just one. The word itself was one of the greatest secrets of your father. It contained great power." Dûrost verified.

"What did it do?" Landor asked curiously.

"Again, I do not know. One person cannot know everything. Not even everything important that you need to know. No one can. But this word, if let loose, could cause unimaginable harm. That is why your father never told anyone about it."Dûrost said. At this, Landor felt a wave of self-doubt wash over him. How could I be anything like my father? I could never keep such a large secret to myself, it would be a burden to me, and I am weak.

"Come on!" Dûrost called encouragingly over his shoulder. "We'd better get going- there is still a long way to go."

Landor stood up with his pack and walked briskly to catch up with Dûrost. "Dûrost?" Landor asked, as he caught up. "Didn't any other of the Five have sons? Am I the only one?"

"Landor!" Dûrost said, getting quite frustrated, "You now know just as much as I do. So stop asking so many questions! My memory is getting old, and I cannot remember many details of my past that I thought irrelevant at the time. Wait at least an hour before you next start saying 'Dûrost?' 'Dûrost?'. And when you do, make it about the present, or a sensible question about the near future. I am not a history book!"

A subdued Landor took a pause, shook himself and carried on walking, trying not to think about his unclear past. It was a puzzle with only the edge pieces; a fragmented image. And such an unclear image could only lead to wild guessing. Landor wanted knowledge, out of pure curiosity, and Dûrost's answers were vague and meant little to Landor. He had never left Arnas except when he went hunting. He had only heard of the King and his Empire when travelers were talking in the inns. Few travelers passed Arnas, and so news was scarce. Arnas was secluded from the outside world, and its inhabitants cared nothing for the goings-on of the Empire. Landor, however, was very much affected by the Empire and so wanted to know what he was facing. But knowledge would have to wait at least an hour, as Dûrost was the only source of it in the world of trees and shrubs that they were walking through. And so Landor continued on through the endless maze of gnarled branches and vines running along the floor.

It began to brighten up, and Landor could see that they were on a path, halfway up one of the hills on either side of the river which quietly flowed through the green valley. And far away, the shallow fords shimmered in the sunlight. The Empire seemed so distant that Landor felt he almost could have laughed at the thought of danger. Beech trees rustled in the breeze, and there was quiet. It was then that Landor realised that the silence did not mean there was peace. He began to feel uneasy, thinking that everything was too bright, too quiet, too calm. Almost like a trap. Landor walked ahead, trying to escape the eerie silence, and so block out the thoughts of ambush. Dûrost did not seem to notice this and Landor walked beside him to shake off the uneasy feeling.

"Doesn't it seem a bit- quiet?" Landor said.

"No. It's always this still here. This path is seldom used."Dûrost answered. "Most people use the road that goes at the bottom of the valley. In fact, most people are unaware of the fact that this exists; that is why I am using it."

"But won't the Arka expect you to do that?" Landor questioned.

 "Don't worry- they're just brainless fighting machines. They are too stupid to think like that for themselves. They only do what they are told, plus a bit of looting here and there. It's the goblins you have to worry about. They are on Zurin's side, but they fight for themselves. The goblins are crafty and stealthy." Dûrost told him.

"Are there any around here?" Landor asked.

"They live deep inside the higher mountains that surround this valley. The armies come out at night to attack weary travellers along the Great Road. But here, we should be safe. Should be."  said Dûrost.

Landor walked on, glad it was daytime. Although I never encounter anything when I hunt at night. Dûrost did say that they attack the Great Road and almost never go into this forest. He should know, of all people. But he never said the Arka don't come here. Landor shivered at this realisation. He took a sip of water, and placed his bottle back in his pack. Isirin was still there, hidden in its pouch. Landor looked around himself, noticing the purple berries that grew abundantly all around the side of the path.

"These purple berries- are they safe to eat?" Landor said.

"Squeeze them. They make good juice."Dûrost answered. "But the skin is bitter." 

Landor took a few in his hand, he squeezed them and tasted the juice. It had a sweet, aromatic flavour and was strong and sharp. He searched for more, but paused when he spotted a small, blackened leather pouch by the side of the path. He stooped to pick it up and turned it over in his hand, examining it. It had crude carvings on it, of a type of language; or so it seemed. Some had been scratched out, presumably through rough use.

"Dûrost! What is this?" Landor asked.

"What is what?" Dûrost said, turning around. As he saw the pouch, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh no. Oh no- not good at all." He looked his companion in the eye. "Do you know what that is, Landor?"

"No." Landor shook his head.

"That-", Dûrost answered, "-was dropped by an Arka. Quite recently too, I'd reckon. And that means there is a pack of them nearby."

"How can you tell?" Landor asked, confused.

"No time for questions. We have some distance to make." Dûrost hurriedly replied, as he began to make his way off the path and onto the heavily forested slope on the side. Tall pine trees struggled for space, towering above the ground where Landor and Dûrost traversed the slope that was strewn with rocks and pine cones. They often lost their footing on the many stones that had been worn smooth by rain, and were slippery to set foot on, and often quite hidden. Yet Dûrost maintained a steady pace and direction. Landor followed behind, slipping and sliding around precariously.

 Dûrost eventually stopped by a small waterfall. He sat down near the outcrop of rock that the small, swift stream tumbled over and stayed there, listening to the noisy splash of the water as he contemplated the problem of a roaming group of Arka. Where will I go? Where is the danger? I could be walking into a trap. Although Zurin wouldn't already know about Isirin. But what if the Arka stumble upon us and find it. I would be leading Landor to his death. And mine.

Landor took the time to rest himself whilst trying to make sense out of his current situation. He put his pack down and leaned against the trunk of a pine tree. He reached into his pack, past Isirin, and retrieved some bread. Dûrost followed suit, and soon they were both chewing away silently, deep in thought.

"Dûrost, how will we reach the Fords without being seen by the Arka?" Landor asked, after a long silence.

"I honestly do not know. It is all down to chance. We may be seen, but we may not. I cannot tell in advance where the Arka are. That is why it was important that we left the path."

Landor slung his pack over his shoulder and stood up, dismayed that Dûrost had no clear plan. Although he certainly didn't blame him for it. As for himself, he was following his lead blindly, unable to keep up with Dûrost's thoughts, and consequently had to ask Dûrost many questions. Landor now was beginning to understand the magnitude of his task, which he'd only just been told about. It both shocked him and filled him with awe, at just how much could go on without people knowing. Landor had long ago given up hope that the King would be overthrown, but now, his old excitement at the thought of rebellion had re-surfaced, and with more energy and hope than ever before. And he was part of it! It would have seemed real to Landor, apart from the fact that the hope was resting on his shoulders, and his alone. That was what made him feel uneasy, everyone was depending on him for their freedom. 

Dûrost then stood up, and carried on at the same pace as before, but more hesitantly, as if he felt something wasn't quite right. He seemed to feel the pressure of being the guide quite a lot. He was only just beginning to realise what a responsibility it was, and what happened if he went wrong- something that Dûrost tried hard not to think about. Landor has no battle experience, and he can only learn in a life and death situation. There is no safe way. If he learns too slowly, then he's as good as dead. Along with all hope. It will be gone then. Lost.

Landor and Dûrost reached a small cliff that went down quite sharply. There were not very many footholds. They turned so they were facing it and began to clamber down backwards.

 Dûrost was almost half way down when he lost his footing, and, throwing himself from the cliff face, landed heavily and began to slide down towards the valley.

"Dûrost!" cried Landor, jumping down, tripping, and sliding down behind Dûrost. They both began to accelerate and soon trees were whipping past, low branches inches away from their faces.

Dûrost was heavily bruised by now and he winced in pain every time he bumped against a rock. Landor, however, was on top of his pack- which was miraculously surviving- and was less bruised, although more scared. His fear increased when he saw the ground rise in front of them. Dûrost then saw it, and, in a last, desperate attempt to stop, slammed his feet down on the ground. His momentum threw his body forwards, and, limbs flailing, he fell onto the path below. Landor did the same, but, weighed down by his pack, he slowed to a stop on the edge of the rise...

...And watched in horror as a group of dark figures ran around the corner of the path, heading straight for Dûrost.

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry about the loooong break, I've been quite busy. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I left you on a cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha *insert evil face here*. Chapters from here onwards get a LOT longer, so don't expect instant updates. See y'all soon!

 - the_great_istari