Prologue

Torias hummed gently to himself as he rode through the forest. It was a perfect day, he decided; he had always loved autumn, loved the changing colour of the land. Although he had travelled the path many times, he doubted that he would ever stop appreciating the majesty of his homeland.

Giving his steed a pat on the neck, he quickened his pace. She would be waiting for him, he thought with a smile, and it would not do to keep the lady waiting.

His smile fell slightly as he sniffed the air.was that burning he could smell? A terrible sense of foreboding filled him, and soon he was racing to his home at full speed. Until he had met her, he had never been much of a rider, but now he rode effortlessly through the dense forest, praying that she would greet him, as she always did, with a sarcastic comment and a smile.

His horse reared as they approached the flames, and he leapt to the ground, running the short distance that lay between him and his burning home.

She will be all right, he assured himself. She is a warrior. She will be all right.

Torias felt a wave of nausea sweep through him as his eyes fell upon a dark shape on the ground. He rushed to it, his fears confirmed; it was his beloved. He carried her away from the flames, and set her down, tenderly stroking her face.

"Aya," he said softly. "It is safe now. You are safe. You need to wake up."

The woman's prone form did not stir. Torias placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. "Aya," he implored, his voice breaking. "Do not do this to me, I beg you, please."

The passing of the hours went unnoticed by Torias as he tried every spell, every medicinal technique he had ever learnt to revive her. He ignored the blood that stained her, and now him; he ignored the wound to her chest that could not be anything other than fatal. For nearly two days he worked tirelessly, before accepting that all hope was lost.

His sobs echoed through the trees as he laid her in a boat and returned her to the river, in the manner of her people. He knelt by the river, and saw the reflection of a broken man staring back at him. Life without her was inconceivable; he took the blade that she had given him all those years ago, and thrust it into his own heart. He called her name once more, before the world went black.