Frigid gray-cloaked dawn hounded them all the way to the haunted crags of Ikana. The cries of the forgotten and the damned gnawed on their long shadows, and the shrieking fury of the night wind devoured their footprints as if the marks of their passing could ever make up for prey denied her.

The shining warrior strode along the edge of the ancient canyon, his bright pupilless eyes turning neither left nor right as he carried his ancient enemy away to lands foreign to them both. The severed braid dragged heavy from his belt, and the discordant hum of the rainbow sword on his back made wild creatures cower and flee before them.

Neither spoke until the sun rose above the temple spires at their backs - but no one could have looked on the red-haired child riding the shoulder of a demigod and failed to mark the sucking riptide of terrible purpose which bound them together.

"There - the city at the end of the world," said the warrior in a voice like the rending earth, gesturing toward the shadowed western lowland below. "Here where four provinces meet under the great waterclock, where the tomorrow-moon dances, where every language that was ever heard is still spoken in the marketplace, it is at this crossroad you will find your new friend."

"Well it looks stupid. Where are the watchtowers? Where are the guard supposed to even patrol? Anybody could scale those stubby little walls and no one would know until it was over," said the child, hunching his shoulders under the sand-and-mud-colored mantle.

"The walls are stronger than you think, and the gates more stout." The warrior shook his head. "The Terminan Republic remains neutral in the Wars, and the guardian spirits of these lands are strong. The fields can be dangerous but-"

The child made a rude noise. "Everywhere is dangerous, according to you."

"I say it because it is true, child of prophecy. Evil calls to evil," said the warrior, his shining eyes fixed on the painted walls of the city below. "But there is a secret passage under this city, where the river of time flows through the blades of the great clock. The one who will be your friend holds the key to the river - follow it together to the place where the Orb of Light rests upon the bones of the Leviathan."

"If the Orb is so strong, why didn't you just-" began the child.

"Neither god nor demon nor spirit may wield its power," said the warrior, bowing his head. "You alone can make the choice to live in the Light - or not."

"Oh," said the child.