Gathering Clouds, Fading Sun
John Conway
john.conway@unn.ac.uk

The banners fluttered in the breeze, suspended above the huge gates as a symbol of unity. The red flag of those who resided in the mountain, the violet flag of the desert women, the blue flag of the water dwellers, the green flag of the forest children. The final flag was white, adorned with three golden triangles, the flag of that city.

It was on this remarkable sight that he gazed, the hooded figure long missing from his homeland. The old castle was gone, the tower of the evil-one that had been raised in it's place shattered, the town that had surrounded it in ruins, infested only by evil things. But it was that sad place that was his destination, this new castle and town must wait, there was something he had to claim first.

He had long been troubled by the news he had heard, even so many leagues away spoken of as a great event. The queen of this great realm marrying a foreign dignitary who had sought her hand from afar.

The hooded figure had journeyed far in his life, gaining repute as a courageous warrior and had seen many realms. Yet he had never heard of this prince that had come here, he had sought out the wisest and the most traveled but none could say. He knew something was amiss. He also knew someone had been following him.

Spurring his horse into a gallop across the great plain he prayed for time, it was a still long journey to the ruined city. But in that city was a weapon, his weapon, the sword that could repel the evil only he had the courage to fight. He knew that its blade must taste blood again if the evil he felt stirring were to be halted.