The clashing of metal rang out through the void as Martin the Warrior's blade was parried by the stoat he faced. Martin swiftly withdrew from the fight bringing his blade alongside his face and thrusted into the neck of the stoat. Strangely, the stoat began to laugh, "You think this is the end? I will always be here to face you, Martin the Warrior," and with an echo, he vanished. Martin lowered his sword to his side, steadying his breath.

"Dreams are a strange thing, are they not?" Martin quickly turned at the sound of the voice, swinging his blade and locking blades with a face he once knew, long long ago.

"Father?" Martin rapidly lowered his sword.

"You ought to be careful swinging wildly, son, you never know who you may accidentally hit," Martin's father, Luke, smiled smugly to his son.

"Tis a strange dream indeed."

"Well, not entirely a dream, something else one might say," Luke slowly wandered around Martin, "I never thought I'd find you here, dream of this place often?"

Martin nodded gently, "Same dream, same night every season," his eyes lowered to the misty ground in sorrow before regaining his composure, "What is this place?"

Luke cocked an eyebrow briefly before answering, "This is the void between the Dark Forest and Hellgates where old rivals come to fight till the end of eternity. It is said when goodbeast defeat evil, the mortal realm endures better for the good, but when evil is more victorious, evil becomes more powerful."

"Am I dead then?"

"By the fur no!" Luke laughed heartily, "I would have met you at the gates of the Dark Forest alongside your mother if that were the case. No Martin you are but an echo in this world as you still live, and I am here because you are here, well in a manner of speaking."

"If I am here in the afterlife, or seeing the afterlife, why does she not come to me?"

"Of whom do you speak? Your mother, your grandmother?"

"Rose, the mousemaid I fell in love with and have loved for so long since…"

"Ah, yes I remember seeing such. For one, only those who have fought may enter this plane of battle, not that peaceful creatures would wish to, besides I thought those memories were lost to you."

"They returned soon enough, I just said I couldn't remember so I could keep Noonvale's secret."

"And bury your own pain."

"Yes…I suppose.

"I think you'll find reasons not to in time."

"Such as?"

"It's not my place to spoil the future, Martin." Luke smiled gently.

"Then why come to speak with me?" Martin scoffed.

"Because I am here to set you on the path you must now follow, to take up the sword again."

"I hung up my sword long ago, I'm no longer a warrior."

"And yet here you are fighting old enemies in your dreams. A warrior can never truly give it up, especially when there could always come a time you may need to unsheathe the sword."

"Redwall is a peaceful place, we've had no threats since Tsarmina ruled Mossflower."

"Are you certain of that?"

The mist and emptiness of his surroundings faded away and soon Martin found himself upon a mountain top with Luke, "Wh-what happened? Where are we?"

"Remember you are still amidst your own dreams, son. We are in a far distant land, across the Eastern Sea," Luke gestures out and to the lands below, small but distinct, Martin could see cities and villages scattered throughout his limited view, "This is the Kingdom of Tanaria, or the Old Kingdom at least. For seasons they ruled and protected the peaceful creatures of this realm, until the Empire came," the scene before Martin morphed into the hellish image of not a battle, but a slaughter as vermin and woodlander battled each other for what appeared as the very survival of the woodlanders themselves, "This occurred not long before you escaped Marshank. The surviving Tanarians fled across the Eastern Sea and began to rebuild in the Northlands, but now the old enemy returns," Again, they seemed to travel instantaneously to a new place, but one Martin knew all too well, the fields of Marshank.

In the center of the fields Martin and Luke stood, towards the ruins of the Fortress Martin remembered all too well, "Marshank…why bring me back to this accursed place?"

"Because it is a battlefield you must face again, Martin, look," Luke gestured to either side of the field, massive armies assembled on one end and the other near the ruins of the fortress.

"Badrang's army was never such a size," Martin stated, observing the encampments around the ruins.

"Nor did you lead an army of that size," Luke replied referring to the opposing army.

Martin examined the other army closer, eyeing many banners, but one he recognized, "The Fur and Freedom Fighters…Noonvale is in trouble…"

"And so too will Redwall if this enemy is not defeated, take up the sword and help face this new evil, Martin, Warrior of Redwall," Luke seemed to fade out of existence as his voice echoed seemingly from beyond and all Martin saw before him faded into darkness.

Martin awoke to the birds chirping outside and sunlight streaming through his windows, he rose to his footpaws in a daze and began to dress, "What did you show me, father…?" Martin tried his best to keep his dream out of his mind while he prepared for the day. He quietly tiptoed out of his room and down the steps to the Great Hall. He admired the tapestry that hung, the image of his grandfather, of whom a similar one was being sewn for him, hung in the center above the alter where rested his sword. Martin approached the stone alter, resting his paw upon the scabbard, part of him longed to feel the weight of the masterwork weapon again.

"Sleeping in again, Martin? That's not like you," Martin shifted around to see Abbess Germaine, the head of the Order of Redwall smiling at him.

"No, Mother Abbess, you are right, I had strange night," Martin smiled, attempting to hide inner most thoughts from the old mouse abbess.

"Seems you have rough nights every season about this time."

"You noticed that?"

"My dear Martin, I may be old not much get's pas one when they get my age. What troubles you so?"

Martin sighed, "I wish I could speak about it, Mother Abbess, but there is much I can't…"

"Ah yes, much you cannot recall," She grasped his paws in hers, "I understand my old friend, perhaps you will be able to in time."

The sounds of laughter came from outside the Abbey halls, "Well seems Gonff's family are already out and about, and I thought he'd sleep in longer than I," Martin grinned, "Shall we go see what the commotion is about this time?" Martin proffered his arm to the abbess.

"Yes Martin, let's see what mischief our Mousethief has gotten into."

The pair strode out into the courtyard to find the self-proclaimed Prince of Mousethieves chasing his beloved son, Gonflet and his friend Chugger, "C'mere you little rascals! You won't get the best of Gonff, Prince of Mousethieves no sir!" Gonff laughed as he played with the two dibbuns. Martin and Germaine found their way to Gonff's wife Columbine, who had a helpless giggle fit watching her husband chase the two dibbuns.

"Dear me, Columbine, seems your husband has drawn laughter from you yet again," Martin teased.

"Oh, bless me, Martin, I did not see you, nor you Mother Abbess," The mousemaid bowed to the aging mouse, "I see the morning finds you well rested Martin," she grinned.

"Seems everyone has noticed my late morning," Martin defeatedly sighed.

"You nearly missed breakfast, not to mention little Gonflet has been asking all morning about Uncle Martin."

"And not Great Uncle Vurg then eh? I suppose you truly are the favorite, Martin," The three mice turned to see another middle-aged mouse wandering towards them.

"Vurg? I didn't expect you out and about yet," Germaine smiled to the old warrior.

"I wanted to pass by the graves this morning before tending to what needs to be done around the Abbey."

"I'm glad Denno, Dulam, and Beau could find a comfortable and peaceful place to rest," Martin smiled gently.

"Despite being taken by the winter, aye," Vurg turned his eyes to the dibbuns and the mousethief, "Those two will grow to become right young fighters I think."

Martin frowned, "Hopefully they will never see a battle a day in their lives."

"Agreed, but they do enjoy learning a thing from both of you," Germaine chuckled.

"Yes, and little Gonflet keeps bringing sticks round our room, pretending they're swords! Really you two ought to be ashamed of yourselves," Columbine scolded the two retired warriors, Martin and Vurg both failed to stifle their laughs, "It's not funny! I have welts and scratches from his 'swords' thanks to you two!"

As the trifling argument continued, Gonflet at last noticed Martin and, as his mother stated, soon grabbed a stick and dashed over to the young mouse, "Martin! Great Uncle Vurg showed me a few strikes with the sword! Let me show you!"

Martin helplessly grinned, "Alright then little warrior," he stepped over and claimed a stick for himself, "Show me what Vurg has taught you," the little dibbun swung wildly and sloppily of which the experienced warrior noticed and parried the blows. Chugger saw this and grabbed a stick himself, charging into the fray. After some bouts, Martin at last let the two "kill" him overacting his death, "You both got me…grahhhh…." But when the two giggling dibbuns got close, he struck, grabbing and tickling them both, "Ah ha! Now you have fallen into my trap!"

Gonff grinningly dashed over to save his son, "Oi, you leave them be you bully," he laughed, pulling his son and Chugger from the clutches of his best friend, "Alright run along you to, it's almost breakfast, well later than that," he reached out and hoisted Martin up.

"It's always late for you whenever a meal comes, is it ever on time old friend?"

"Only when I'm hungry, mate!" Gonff smirked.

Columbine smacked her husband upside the head, "You're plump enough as it is, love!"

"Steady on!" Gonff rubbed his head, "You know I was joking. At least mostly."

"Mmm certainly," Columbine teased, "Come on then, let's go inside and help get breakfast ready."

Martin watched the small family as well wander inside, his smile slowly fading away, his mind wishing he could have had one of his own. He was brought back to reality with a loud thwack! His head swiftly turned behind him, seeing Vurg handing Martin a wooden sword, "Retired or not, best to keep your skills honed," Vurg told him, "A spar isn't terrible at working up an appetite either."

Martin took the sword in his paw, "Alright, we'll spar a bit," he heaved a conceding sigh. For the next twenty or so minutes the two sparred and sounds of wood clashing with wood echoed in the courtyard. In their final bout, Vurg's last strike came from the high guard, slashing downwards to Martin's head. Martin shifted from his own high guard to a hanging guard and deflected the attack to the side. His paw bolted towards, Vurg's wrist, grabbing it as his blade halted just an inch from the old warrior's neck.

"Well, still not rusty yet I see," Vurg grinned.

Martin exhaled, "I'm sure why you stress to spar as much as you do, if I'm going to be honest," he handed his sword to Vurg.

"I'm not about to let old age get the better of me!" he laughed then his expression turned serious and scolded the young mouse, "But the other reality is, retired or not you should not shirk your own skills."

"Redwall and Mossflower are at peace now, there's no need to be prepared for any war," Martin debated.

"You still play chess with Amber, Gonff, and myself do you not? Keeping your tactical and strategic mind sharpened? Do you not take the time to maintain your sword itself, despite not carrying it?" Vurg rebuttled, "Idleness is not something you're quite good at," he smacked Martin's back.

"There still isn't much need any more I don't think."

"You never know what the future hold, Martin, just keep that in mind. Let's go get some food eh?" Vurg and Martin entered Redwall and proceeded to Cavern Hole.

Martin was sure to seat himself near Gonff's family, helping get the two dibbuns to eat as well as joking with Gonff and Columbine. When Gonflet and Chugger both acted up too much, they were scolded by Bella, badger and Mother of Redwall by title. Soon after some time, the Squirrel Queen, Lady Amber, or Amber as she preferred now, entered Cavern Hole. Martin smiled at the squirrelmaid, "Amber! What news of the surrounding woods?" Martin called to her.

"Nothing out of the ordinary as usual…well mostly," Amber responded to the retired warrior.

"Mostly?" Martin cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm sure it's nothing, just a small family of short-eared owls were spotted by a couple of my scouts. Rather big ones too."

Martin nearly choked on his cordial. Gonff patted his friend's back attempting to help his coughs, "You alright there mate?" Gonff asked with concern.

"I-I'm fine," Martin responded clearing his throat, "Amber, what direction were the owls heading?"

Amber scratched her head thoughtfully, "Well from where they saw them, I would assume south, towards the Abbey, but I figured they'd pass it."

"It couldn't be…" Martin muttered under his breath. He immediately stood and began to hurry out of Cavern Hole, "Please excuse me my friends!" he called in a rush, leaving the Redwallers caught in confusion.

Martin soon made his way back into the courtyard and immediately turned his eyes to the sky, no sign of what he thought, but he wasn't ready to discard anything just yet. He hurried to the Northern wall and swiftly climbed the stairs to the ramparts, once again turning his eyes to the sky. For a moment it seemed nothing was there, then he spotted it, three dark figures flying over the trees, nearing the Abbey. As they drew closer, he could tell they were indeed short-eared owls, all three were recognizable to Martin, despite the time since he had last seen them, Boldred, Horty, and their daughter Emalet.

The three made an all to familiar call as they perched onto the wall. Boldred turned her head to Martin in both disbelief and surprise, "Martin, is that really you? After all this time?" she asked the mouse.

Martin found himself briefly at a loss for words before finally responding, "Y-yes Boldred it is me…what in the blazes are you doing here?" he asked dumbfounded.

"Brome and Rose sent us, we, or rather I, have been searching for you for some time now."

"Rose?! Did you say Rose?!" Martin's voice raised, his mouth agape.

Boldred nodded, "She's alive…Urran Voh was originally not keen on her looking for you, to put it gently, until just about when he passed, and he then had a change of heart. Brome didn't want Rose going to find you without knowing where you were."

"I suppose that makes sense," Martin replied, heavily leaning against the railing, attempting to take all the information in.

"There's more, Martin," Horty spoke up.

Martin turned his attention to the male owl, "There's…more…?"

"To put it in general…Noonvale is in danger…a kingdom from across the Eastern Sea came to the Northlands, fleeing some enemy and a lost war. They rebuilt near Noonvale, but it seems their old enemy has come after them…" Horty nodded to the young warrior, "Brome and King Aidan need allies…Martin they need you."

"So that's what you showed me father…" Martin murmured, he sat silently taking in everything he had heard. Rose was alive, war had come to the North…and he knew what he had to do, "Meet me near the Gatehouse, I have something I need to find for you," he gestured in the direction of the Redwall Gatehouse. He dashed down the stairs as the three owls flew and landed in the courtyard nearby. Inside the Gatehouse Martin frantically searched through the various scrolls and loose parchments, "Where is it?" he growled.

"If you're looking for something specific, I do believe I can be of better help," Martin swung around at the sound of the voice, to see Abbess Germaine standing in the doorway, smiling to him.

"Mother Abbess!" he obviously stated in surprise.

She walked over to him slowly, "Care to explain to me what is going on?" she peered up at him over her spectacles, "You are frantically looking for something, we have three owls in our courtyard and you yourself are excitable that I've seen since the Great Mossflower War."

Martin exhaled defeatedly, "I'm looking for the map to Salamandastron," he informed her returning to his search.

"Oh? And why is that?" She asked, gradually travelling to the far side of the room.

"I need the Long Patrol's help."

"Ah, and why do you need their help?"

Martin's paw slammed onto the table in frustration, Finally he responded to her after calming himself, "I'm going back up North, I have friends there in danger, I'm going back to war."

"Coming out of retirement I see," Germaine smiled, walking towards him with a scroll in paw.

"This is the map to Salamandastron," She told the warrior, and without warning whacked his head with her cane, "And you are not going alone! You have friends here who are more than willing to help you, Martin. Whatever reason you had to hide your past, whatever reason you had to run from it, now it seems all comes full circle, but you must not take all that responsibility on your shoulders," she at last handed him the map.

Martin rubbed his forehead, claiming the map, "I'm not about to drag Redwall into another war, Mother Abbess."

"Is it not their choice? Is it not just as wrong for you to force them to stay? What harm is there in asking?"

Martin stared at the old mouse for a while, of whom simply smiled at him, at last he relented, "I'll talk to them."

She took his paw in hers, "I knew one day this would come, my dear Martin. I will not see our Abbey Warrior so burdened without aid. Now go."

Martin smiled and gave her a brief nod before exiting the Gatehouse. Outside he was greeted not just by the three owls, but also the vast majority of Redwall itself, almost as if they knew he was preparing to leave. He helplessly smiled to the Redwallers before turning to Boldred, handing her the map of which her talon offered him a scroll, "This is the map to a land called Salamandastron. Tell the hares there I sent you, they will be able to offer some support," he informed the owl as the trade commenced.

"And this map is the quickest route back to Marshank, there both armies are meeting in battle, if they have not already," Boldred responded, taking off into the sky, "I will lead them and meet you there, Martin the Warrior!"

Martin turned to the crowd before him, a smile crossing his face, "I assume all, if not most of you are planning to join me then?"

"You didn't think you could leave me behind, could you mate?" Gonff grinned at him.

"I told you, a day may come that you would come out of retirement," Vurg told him, arms crossed.

Amber rested her paw on her hip, "You'll need an army if you're going to war like that owl said."

"Ye know 'ow much 'ee molers can 'elp too!" Dinny cheered.

Martin grinned, and called out to all of them, "Then what are you all standing around for then? We have work to do to leave soon as we can!" his eyes turned to Abbess Germaine as the Redwallers scattered to gather all they needed. He gave her a brief nod to the old Abbess who lowered her head back to him.

After some time, Martin gathered with the Redwallers, sword at his side, his armor in one of a few carts they would haul. Many if not near all veterans of the Great Mossflower War gathered alongside Amber's Squirrels. Martin smiled at his friends surrounding him and lead the small army outside the gate, marching northward.

In the North, armies gathered across the fields of Marshank, an Emperor and his armies sailed the sea drawing closer and closer to the battlefield. A king vowed revenge, a Baron eager to prove himself, while another to continue his reputation. A young mouse chieftain struggled with his role as a leader amid war, where the mousemaid longed to see her love again. All pieces were in place, the war had begun…