Prologue

A soft breeze blew across the canopy of leaves, murmurs following it. The crescent moon tried to avoid the upcoming storm clouds, but to no avail. The dark and menacing clouds covered the only light-giving object in the sky. A few seconds later, rain started falling, followed by lightning, then thunder. It was as if all the elements were taunting, mocking the tiny figure that was standing there, all alone, at the foot of the hill.

Looking up nonchalantly, the tiny silhouette seemed to observe the skies, as if it too, was mocking and taunting it. Almost at once, lightning flashed, striking a cedar tree that was only a few feet away. With the smell of burning, the tree fell slowly to its side.

And still the rain fell. After the last thunderclap, the skies' anger seemed to recede. Instead, it joined on with the tiny figure's grief. Raindrops, so seemingly representing teardrops, splattered around, woefully. By that time, the tiny figure was already soaked, but still it stood on, watching the skies.

After what seemed like an eternity, the rain slowed to a drizzle. A soft wind blew from the west, promising better weather. At last, the drizzle stopped. Everything was silent. It was as if all was holding it's breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

The tiny figure looked around itself, taking in its surroundings. From the east, the first rays of sunshine could be seen, so eager to stretch out its warming arms to the woeful surroundings below. To the west, the moon was making room for the sun. All around, everything was damp, dark, and almost forbidding. Nothing seemed to live, nor breathe, except for the tiny figure that stood there, alone, sad.

Taking one last look at the skies, the tiny figure turned to go. The first sunbeams reached down, illuminating its features. The tiny figure, in fact was a mouse, only a few seasons older than a Dibbun. He had light brown fur, with dark spots around his emerald eyes. Glistening with tears, they seemed to shine like jewels set upon a legendary weapon.

The mouse was wearing a cloak that was too big for him. It was heavy, and had become even more so because of the rain. Once, it had been a colourful and attracting one, but over the seasons that the first wearer wore it while travelling, it had now become an ugly, uncomfortable-looking cloak.

Nevertheless, it kept the mouse warm.

Turning to go, he suddenly stopped and looked across his shoulders. Behind him, stretched the tiny Cedar Woods, where almost no other trees but the cedar grew. Raising his eyes up to the canopies, the mouse perceived a change in the environment. He sniffed the air, and smelling an odour that almost made him cry, he turned to run away.

But it was too late.

Flames burst out, about 10 feet away, where the woods started. At once, the intolerable heat started spreading, along with the smoke. They were faster than the actual fire, who was doing it's best to keep up with the others.

Because he was so small, and was carrying a cloak so heavy with rainwater, the mouse couldn't –now and after- outrun the fire. Straggling, tripping, getting up again, he did his best to reach the top of the hill. When he looked back again, the fire was almost right behind his footpaws.

Screaming in fright, the mouse flung the cloak off, earning a break from the weight and the added heat. Running towards a stream that he saw, the mouse tried to ignore the pain that his footpaws were feeling at that very moment.

Reaching the banks of the water, the mouse took a chance to look behind him. Fear surged through him, as he saw that the fire was only 6 feet away, still not giving up the chase. Without thinking, the mouse flung himself into the waters.

Icy currents tore at the helpless mouse. Flinging his arms uselessly, the mouse opened his mouth to scream, only to have water pour down into his throat. Fighting to get control, the mouse managed to stick his head out of the water for a split second, to see that there were several boulders around him. Hoping to grab one of them to stop himself from floating away, the mouse fought as hard as ever. Suddenly, his head hit something hard, and as he fell unconscious, the icy, dangerous water dragged him down into its deep, dark depths.

* * *

Eelingzar was a rat who was a nomad. He wasn't a soldier of a horde, though he once was the leader of one. He led about 70 vermin, plundering goods and murdering honest beasts. They occupied an area about 45 leagues away from Mossflower Woods in the north. One day, they captured a ferret who told them about a place called Redwall Abbey, a place where weak creatures lived. Trying to stay alive, the ferret offered to take them there, but Eelingzar refused. Slaying him immediately, the rat led his horde due south, to where, according to the dead ferret, was where this Abbey lay.

When the band of vermin of the ferret learned that one of their own creatures had been slain by another band, they set out to attack them. During the battle, Eelingzar lost an ear and two fingers on his left paw, and most of his horde. Only he himself and two others, one a stoat, another a weasel, lived. After a few months of roaming around for food, the stoat fell ill and died.

The weasel and Eelingzar travelled together, eating what food they could find. One winter night, they came across a recently abandoned den, and there was food, water and a bed inside. The weasel tried to kill Eelingzar as he ate, but the rat managed to get his rapier and save himself. They fought each other, but in the end, it was Eelingzar who had slain the weasel.

Packing as many things as he could, the rat set off by himself. Roaming for several seasons, Eelingzar saw of and heard of many things. Many times, news of Redwall Abbey reached his ear, and also ones of a gigantic mountain fortress called Salamandastron. Knowing that for now, he couldn't get to any of those places, Eelingzar tried not to think of them.

It had been many seasons now, and the rat, though still quite young, was feeling that he had had enough of wandering, and decided to find a place to live permanently. Following a river downstream, he hoped that he could find some place where he could build a tiny house, not too fancy though. As he walked, musing, he perceived something dark that was in the waters. Shaking himself, Eelingzar looked closer.

At first, the rat thought that it was a humongous fish, but as he looked for a bit longer, he saw that it was, in fact, another creature. Perhaps it was the wandering days that softened his heart a bit, but, nevertheless, the rat grabbed a long and sturdy branch near him, and reached over the waters, trying to get at the creature. Just barely reaching the creature, Eelingzar tried his best to lure it in. As the slumping creature reached the banks of the river, the rat grabbed him, so the gentle currents wouldn't pull it away again.

Eelingzar looked at the creature that he was holding in his paws. It was mouse, only a few seasons older than a Dibbun. All at once, his heart was filled with grief. He felt sympathy for the poor little mouse. Wondering if he could still ever be evil again, Eelingzar carried the mouse slowly away from the river.