They were everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. No matter where he looked in the forest, there was one of the monsters. Either the smaller ones – those fast, six-legged beasts that tore up everything they could get close to, or the larger ones – another new strain, this one looking like a frilled Osteolacero with a mouth full of needles and a pair of arms ending with scythes. Of course, the biggest problem with the new strain was the fact that they could shoot poisonous, armor-piercing spines out of a muscular slot near their massive jaws.

To the left, a man screamed, and the old soldier looked over to see him being scissored by one of the snake-things. The soldier charged forwards. It was too late to save the man, he knew that. However, if the thing was attacking an ally, it wouldn't be able to attack him. So, as the thing struggled to retract its scythes from the body of its fallen enemy, the old soldier swung his sword as hard as he could, cleaving into the skull of his foe.

The archer fired another bolt from her crossbow, channeling her mark's energy into the projectile. Empowered with magical light, the bolt pierced right through her target: a snake. Then, she swiftly changed from the crossbow to her short sword, bashing at a jumping Runner (as she had taken to calling them) with her buckler before cutting at it with her short sword. She hacked twice at its neck, decapitating it on the second strike.

All around, the soldiers were retreating. This hadn't been a battle. It had been a rout. The enemy had been much stronger than anticipated. There had been far more of them. Perhaps most terrifyingly of all, they seemed to be smart. Even in the chaos of the melee, they maneuvered themselves beautifully, aided each other, focused their fire, and so on and so forth, with a degree of efficiency that rivaled the precision drills of the Barrack-hold Mercenaries.

Sara shot up from where she was laying, and noticed that there was a pool of blood on the couch where her head had been laying. Then, she watched as blood began to drip from her face onto the floor. She felt her nose, and realized that it was bleeding. Disturbed, she headed to the washroom, and cleaned her face and hair off. The fresh nightmare was replaying in her head.

Someone came into the house as Sara was drying off her face, satisfied that her nose had stopped bleeding. "Oh Gods! SARA!" Hector yelled.

Sara came out of the washroom. "I'm fine, Hector, it was just a bloody nose."

Hector breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I was really worried about you after the attack."

"Hector, I had another nightmare." Sara said, the dream coming back to her full force. "I remembered it, too."

Hector was shocked. "What was the nightmare?"

"Hector, the attack isn't going to work!" She cried. "I saw them dying and running and-"

Hector hugged her close. "Shh. It's alright." He said. "It's all going to be fine."

She sniffed. "Hector, what if this dream comes true like my last one?"

Hector paused. Before the attack that had put him in the Healer's home, Sara had dreamed about the swarm of monsters coming to attack the town. Then, those things fell on the town like a frenzied swarm. Now, she'd had another dream, with just as dire a warning.

"Sara, if you're right, then we need to pack up whatever things we have. I don't think we'll be staying in Drex for much longer."

She nodded, and went to her room and began gathering up her belongings. Hector took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, then went to his own room. His somewhat spartan lifestyle meant that he didn't have very many personal possessions. The few he did own were quickly placed into a large backpack, or went onto his person. Absently, he touched the ring on a chain around his neck. It had been their father's wedding band: a plain, silver ring that had since become something of a good luck charm. He hoped that his parents were watching over him now.

Then he stopped. A thought struck him. Was he really going to leave Drex? Without warning anyone? Without telling the council? If he left silently, they'd be attacked again, but this time, they'd be wiped out.

"Sara," he called out, "I'll be right back."

It was an hour before the council would see him. For the first thirty minutes, he as grateful for the pause, and he used the time to get his argument in order. For the other half hour, though, he fumed. Why wouldn't they see him immediately? This was important! Did his father's decade and a half of service to the Chieftain mean nothing to them anymore?

When he was finally summoned into the Council Chambers, he made a point to forgo the prelude he was supposed to give them, and said "We need to make preparations to evacuate Drex immediately."

Several members of the council straightened up at that, and there were several outbursts that they were technically granted: since Hector had decided to eschew the protocol, they could too. However, now was not the best time for that. Time was of the essence.

"I have no solid proof of what I am about to say, and I realize that this significantly reduces any faith you may have in me, but I beg this council to heed my words. Before the first attack on our village by these Chimera, my sister had a dream, a vision, about the attack. At the time, I had passed it off as her reacting to encountering one of those... things... at the cemetery. But just today, a mere hour ago, she had another dream. She told me that, in her dream, the attack failed. Up until these visions, she had never once remembered what she had dreamed about. Now, she's remembered two dreams. The first dream came true. If this second dream does as well, then Drex is in grave danger, and its people must flee."

There was an interminable silence before the Chieftain finally stood and cleared his throat. "Let us presume, for a moment, that we agree to evacuate. Where will we go? How will we get there? Who will protect us on our travels? How will we provide for ourselves on the roads? We must make haste, yes, but at what cost? How will we even know that we will be welcomed at our destination, or that we will be safe when we arrive? I'm sorry, Hector, but-"

Hector drew his knife in his left hand, and positioned its tip over his right index finger. The Chamber was filled with gasps as the realization sank in. Was he really going to? Did he really believe that strongly?

"My name is Hector Kiora, son of Brandt Kiora and Morgana Lannisa, and I am prepared to offer blood proof. Will you accept?"

The Cheiftain drew his own knife, mirroring Hector as he stepped towards the younger man, eliciting another round of gasps as the gravity of the situation sank in. "I am Ketill Beorht, Chieftain of Drex," he recited, "and I stand ready to accept your blood proof."

Each man slit his finger, then made a small incision in his wrist. Then, they took each other's hand, finger over the other's wrist.

"I swear by my blood of my conviction to this cause." Hector recited.

"What is your cause?" The Chieftain inquired.

"Safeguarding Drex and her people from a threat that has already claimed their lives, and may be doing so as we speak."

"To what end shall you pursue your cause?"

"Until Drex's people are safe within the walls of Harbor-keep, or I am otherwise released from my service, or until the rest of my blood is spilled on the ground."

The Cheiftain's brows raised at the selection of Harbor-keep as the destination, but he continued without missing a beat as a glimmer of understanding filled his eyes. "Then I mirror your resolve, I match your conviction, and with this council as my witness, I accept your blood proof."

The silence hung over the room for a moment before the chieftain spoke. "This council is dismissed. Go tell your family and neighbors that we will be leaving Drex on the morrow, if not sooner. Do not tell them of Sara's visions."

The chamber emptied quickly, leaving just the Chieftain and Hector standing there. Then, Hector sheathed his knife, and took a knee, bowing his head. "What would you have this blood vassal do?" He asked.

"I would have you go and prepare to leave this town." The chieftain said. "Return to your home, finish preparing to leave, tell your sister what has transpired here, then come back to me."

Hector rose, bowed, and turned to leave. As he left, he thought he heard the Chieftain mutter something about taking after his father under his breath.

Hector returned home and, as he slipped into his armor, told Sara what had happened at the council meeting, that he'd sworn himself in blood to the Chieftain to guide Drex to Harbor-keep. Sara blinked, then slapped Hector across the face. "Why'd you do that?" Hector asked, rubbing his cheek with a gloved hand.

"You always do this!" She said.

"What do you mean? This is the first time that I've-"

"No, you always act without thinking!" She interrupted. "You could have just said that the plan was to go to Harbor-keep! Offering blood proof is serious! You're sworn to his service after this! You're practically his slave now!"

Hector sighed as he shrugged on the armor he'd been issued last month, the leather base covered with repurposed steel from various broken implements. "What's done is done. Now, I have an obligation to Chieftain Ketill and to Drex. Are you ready to go?"

Sara nodded, gesturing to the pack at her feet. Hector smiled. ''Good. Let's go."

Their home was near the north gate, so walking out of the small building, they saw the trickle of tattered warriors coming through, weary from the fight they escaped. Hector squeezed his sister's hand in his. Hector spotted Chieftain Ketill, and made his way over to him.

Ketill looked at Hector, and nodded his approval at Hector's armor. "Not much without a weapon." The chieftain noted.

Hector patted the sheathed knife at his left shoulder. "I've fought with knives before."

Chieftain Ketill nodded, then cleared his throat and took on a serious air. "As my blood vassal," He said softly, "I have the responsibility of making sure that you live to fulfill your cause." He carefully removed a second scabbard from his side, and Hector's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the weapon.

"I believe you know exactly what I am giving you." Ketill said.

Any disbelief Hector may have had vanished instantly as he pulled the sword a few inches from its scabbard. The charcoal-black blade reflected the sun's rays beautifully. The sword was four feet long, and balanced perfectly, as was expected from a weapon that came from Forge-keep's blacksmith guild.

Hector smiled as he attached the weapon to his own belt, then bowed towards Ketill. "I am honored that you would think so highly of me, Chieftain Ketill. The role of a Household Guard is one I shall take seriously."

Ketill smiled. "The blade's name is-"

"Tenebris." Hector said softly. "My father named it Tenebris."

Ketill nodded. "I think it fitting that you should inherit his blade with his position. I hope it will serve you well."

Ketill turned to the warriors slowly trickling in. "Your sister's vision was correct, it seems. The warriors all seem to report that the battle was a failure from the beginning. Now, how did you plan to evacuate our entire village and its supplies?"