Chapter 4: The Sands of Time

Chapter 4: The Sands of Time

The West was once one of the greatest lands on this world. It had magnificent cities, and an abundance of wealth and power. But all this wealth and power was corrupted. Tainted creatures arose from these sources, and they started to hunt down each other’s values. This was done by either stealing, killing, or replacing entirely to fit its own purpose. And the once great cities, gleaming golden bright, turned gray and gloomy. It was the beings of the West that started the Wars; the Wars that led to the Summoning of Mortem. Mortem’s first punishment was on the West. He grabbed a piece of the sun in his hand and blew it across the West. The fires destroyed the land. It burned the ground to a crisp, it boiled the seas down to caverns, and it melted the great cities of old to crooked beings. Overtime, as winds began to produce, dirt and sand began to move in large quantities throughout the West. Finally, through years of erosion, The Desert was finally formed. It is a nearly endless sea of sand, and as the sun blinds the sky with its rays, it’s nearly impossible to settle here. Only a few areas remain settled. One being the Land of the Metal Mountains. Through these examples, we must understand that Mortem has shown no mercy for our errors in the past and will show no mercy now. Therefore, the components of greed and ambition must be silenced, permanently if needed. For if we continue with our ways, the whole world will be consumed by the Desert.

-The Forbidden Texts.

            The sand flew at them like sharp pieces of glass. While it didn’t cause any bleeding or fatal damage, the sand’s rough and pointy texture left stinging cuts and a terrible feeling on their skins. Even though the sand storms were dangerous, it was at least less threatening then the main enemy of this world, the Sun. Maybe Mortem cursed the Sun to be this enlarged size and intensity, but the Sun of the Desert could melt skin till it bubbles. There was no sign of life in sight, and there were fossil records of the beasts of the past lying about. It is because of these reasons is why Mozak and Xenon’s march across the Desert could also be a test of their will. The only water in possession was the ones in their canister’s, and it was even lowering in quantity as the days went on. Five days they marched across the Deserts, and only one day left of rations. The only rations that allow them to barely survive in the wrecked plains. The Metal Mountains were at least two days away, and they were moving as quick as they can. The Metal Mountains was there destination, for it was the only destination in the West. The West was mostly the Desert, and small forests and mountains on the outskirts. If they were going to find The Forbidden Texts and the Purple Rider, they were here.  

It was now the middle of the night, and Xenon and Mozak were jogging through the Desert. Even though the great dunes of sand engulfed their feet as they ran, they had to hurry. They finished the last of their water, and they needed to reach the city before dawn. Before the killer ball of fire awakens. Mozak felt so ashamed of himself. Why did he not ration his water? Why didn’t he think about filling up more when they stopped at the river before entering the Desert? If he only knew how bitterly hot this land was, he would’ve fill everything he owned with the cool, refreshing substance. No matter how much he drank while marching, either little sips or quick gulps, his aching body never found balance to the humid climate. Now they run through the Desert, hoping to find water before the sun rises. Mozak’s body was in pain. His arms and legs ached until they limped to the ground as he ran, and his eyes, blanketed by the humid air and rough sand, were nearly blind. Mozak was hurting, but he knew he was running for his life right now, even if the danger is not living.

Xenon felt the same in this situation, but he knew he can’t give up now. He tried covering him and Mozak with clothes of shading and with oils to shield them from the sun’s odor, but it only lasted for a short time. Xenon knew what laid in the middle of the Metal Mountains, a giant waterhole where the people come and go to get their water. This waterhole was the foundation for the entire city, and it was the only reason people survived in the Desert. When he and Mozak entered the city, they would be protected by the shade of the buildings, and the ice water of the pit. But now they were defenseless in the infinite Desert, and they were running out of time.

The two were running across the tops of the dunes to prevent sinking into them. While they were jogging, they saw the scariest thing you can see in this place. The remains of the dead. Lying around them on their journey were the skeletal remains of previous travelers, either unprepared for the area or killed by unknown means. They saw the remains of humans and Zakaz, and their bones were crumbling into dust, becoming a part of the wind and sand. They saw the remains of giant beasts of old. Some had sharp teeth, others had long tusks, but they all showed an appearance of agony in their decaying state. It was because of these sights that it caused Mozak and Xenon to run even faster now. This was their fate if they didn’t make it. And in the horizon, you could see the tiniest bit of yellow and orange rising. The sun was going to soar soon.

“Quickly Mozak! Run! Run as fast as you can,” Xenon screamed to Mozak, who was falling behind slowly. “We just have to make it to the city, if we don’t, it’ll be all over,” Xenon spattered.

Mozak was now limping, but he was forcing himself forward. Through all this pain and aching, there was an underlying feeling of anger. Hate. Maybe the roughness of the Desert has also pierced his soul, but Mozak felt angry while running. He didn’t want to die, nor did he like how Xenon was treating the situation. Mozak felt in some way disgusted by Xenon, and how he deals with everything. His quick-thinking attitude, and in so causing problems for everyone. It was because of these feelings that caused Mozak to push forward through the sand, reaching up to Xenon, and running past him.

The sun was now getting a little bit higher, but they were still running. Mozak saw something in the distance. It was a blackened figure that stood jagged in the sand. Mozak thought it was some sort of tree or rock, but it looked unearthly. When Mozak got closer to it, he realized it wasn’t naturally made. It was like a skeleton, but made of metal and iron, and it stood up in a bent position. Pointy pieces glared outward, and sand was layered on the openings. Then the sun reached a point to lighten the whole sky, and its rays hit the metal figure. It shinned and radiated as the sun blasted at it, causing Mozak to cover his eyes and move away from it while he was running. Mozak then realized something, the sun was up, and that was when his heart was shaking. For he could already feel the heat.

Mozak ran as fast as he could up the sandy hill, but the sun’s rays were already causing him to sweat quickly. He shedded a couple of times through the march, but his fresh skin stung from exposure to the sun. Mozak knew the heat of this sun, but knew he lost his only defense, water. When Mozak reached the top, he saw something magnificent.

It was like the metal figure behind him, but many more and much larger. Giant metal skeletons rose sharply throughout a flat plain, and down below were towns attached. The towns were made of simple wood and scrap metal, but Mozak could see people. They finally made it to the city, The Metal Mountains, and in the center, as a beacon of hope, was the blue waterhole.

Mozak leaped from the sand dune and slide down the sand pile to the ground. He impacted with a painful thud, for the ground was rocky hard. But Mozak quickly got up though tripping on his claws and sprinted for the city. Mozak felt his tongue flickering like crazy, and his body was melting. Xenon was right behind him sprinting also. He had taken off his robes and tied them around his hips. He was sweating so much, that it came off him in buckets. They ran into the city, past everyone and everything, and straight to the waterhole. They didn’t even see the guards there, but they sprinted past them and straight to the water. When they reached the water, Mozak tried to quickly bend down, but in so tripped and fell into the water. Xenon quickly cupped his hands into the water and drank it. Then the guards came up to them.

“Sir. I’m sorry that you seem parched, but you cannot drink naked to the waterhole. It might contaminate it,” The first guard explained.

“Yes, and get that Gecko out of the water now,” said the other guard.

Mozak was now deep into the water, and he didn’t hear any of this. He was not only drinking the water but breathing it in some way. But it wasn’t quickly, but slowly in strokes. The cool water healed his aching sores and burning skin. Mozak felt the anger inside him go away, and a calm happiness form. He had passed the test of his will, and he was given a compliment from Mortem. Mozak then realized the air was thinning and he needed to come up. When he got up, Xenon grabbed him and took him out of the water.

“Careful Mozak, we cannot be here for too long. I just paid the guards for your trip up, and we are free to move about. We must find out where the Purple Rider is,” Xenon explained.

Mozak realized something as he was literally being dragged out of the water, Xenon can really explain a lot. In some way, expositional. As if he already knew this, and that is why he’s so calm about it. Either way, it felt at little arrogant and mean to Mozak, who has now come to be displeased by it.

“How so?” Mozak asked.

“We’ll search through these buildings, such as the city hall and taverns, and ask if they seen a Purple Rider throughout these parts,” Xenon explained.

Mozak agreed, and they went out into the town. They first stopped by the city hall. It was a melted down building, but with drapes around it, and wooden structures to hold it up. Inside they asked to see the Chief. The assistant, who was a Snake Zakaz, said the Chief was busy right now, but they could make an appointment for later. The two decided to make an appointment for later, at 5:00pm sharp. Xenon hoped to see the Chief quickly, but understood he was busy.

The Chief’s name was Wero, and he was a corrupted Agalma. The Agalma were like gargoyles, with long horns and a sharp beak. It had loose feathers, and a skinny skeleton like body. Mortem turned the wicked and selfish into Agalma. But instead of being ashamed of it like other Agalma’s did, Wero fought it. He joined multiple gangs and tribes and learned the style of the Desert. He strived to become better, and in so, helped create the society in the Desert. But Wero’s law is strict, for the Desert is strict. He would imprison or kill anyone who threatened his already fragile community. While he didn’t agree with the Zakaz, Wero allows them into the city, believing one day they could help expand its borders. But now that the Zakaz plan to go to war, Wero is now uncertain about his allegiance to them. And if The Forbidden Texts are inside the walls of his city, it could lead to chaos on his doorstep. Therefore, Xenon wanted to both be quick and silent about it. They would just find the Purple Rider and The Forbidden Texts and just leave, without causing any problems.

Since Mozak and Xenon couldn’t see the Chief right away, they went to the Bar, seeing if anyone there knew about the mysterious rider. When they entered the Bar, it was a very strange sight. There were no tables or chairs, and people were sitting on the ground. Nearly everyone was wearing suits to protect them from the climate. The suits were light in fabric, light-yellow in color, and a breaking mask around the face. Some people were playing cards, and others were slowly drinking water from their cups. Wero outlawed alcohol, believing it to be a wall to living. Mozak and Xenon entered the Bar, quietly, and went up to the one table in the room, and that was where the Bartender was. Some people looked at them, but mostly at Mozak. Seeing a Zakaz by itself gave them an uneasy feeling, for most Zakaz stay in groups.   Mozak could see from the corner of his eye, some people moving their bags closer to their sides, leaving him with a sickened feeling. Xenon knocked on the table, and the Bartender popped up. He was probably checking storage, but he popped up like a jack-in-a-box.

“Hello. How can I help you?” the Bartender said as he was cleaning a glass.

“Me and my friend here are looking for someone. Someone who may be a rider? There might be some people already here looking for it?” Xenon asked.

“There are many riders in this town sir,” the Bartender said as he continued to clean the glass, “I’m sorry but I will need a name if I’m going to help you.”

Xenon looked concerned about saying something, like a kid who wants to say a bad word, but he is with his parents. Xenon looked at Mozak, giving him a look of concern and maybe in some way approval. Mozak kind of understood what he was saying and gave a little nod. Xenon then went closer to the Bartender, and leaned in.

“I’m looking for the Nameless Purple Rider. Some say it may be here in The Metal Mountains. It has some very important information that we need to get,” Xenon said softly and quietly as he could.

The Bartender stopped cleaning the glass quickly, leaving a squeaking sound in the air. His face looked frozen, an expression of overall worry. His nose twinged a little for a second, he closed his eyes for a second, and opened them looking angrier now.

“Who are you then sir? For that is some information that he may not like being shared,” the Bartender said.

“I am Xenon the Shaman, and this is Mozak Iron. We come from the far East, looking for this entity,” Xenon said.

The Bartender looked less angry now, but still had fierce eyes. Mozak saw for a quick moment, his eyes quickly look across the whole Bar. The Bartender then slammed the cup on the table, and then continued the conversation. He leaned in very closely to Xenon. “Shaman you are not putting yourself, the Zakaz here, and me in trouble, but the whole community. Chief Wero doesn’t want any problems going on, and here you are rambling about the Riders. You will be the match to the oil if you don’t settle down,” the Bartender said coldly.

Xenon then replied, “My apologies, I didn’t realize that…”

The Bartender interrupted him, “Of course you didn’t. You probably also didn’t realize that coming to this Zakaz infested watering hole might also put people into danger. You also probably didn’t realize that covering yourself with your previous conflicts’ clothes in probably a bad idea. You see Shaman, I may not be a spiritual genius that you people may think of yourselves, but I do understand basic common sense. I would highly recommend you leave now, take off those clothes, and cover Mozak with anything. You are in a death-trap, and you’re looking for the bait,” the Bartender finished.

Xenon just stood there quiet. He wasn’t expecting that, and he looked disgusted by it. “Well I’m sorry sir. I’ll leave you alone in your broken-down bar with these people. Maybe what I’m doing is to help people like you?” Xenon said.

The Bartender just looked as him. “Maybe I and the others don’t want your help. Maybe we would like it better if all of you Shamans, stopped thinking about what was told to them and regurgitating it as a machine and think about what is happening right now.”

Xenon stormed out of the Bar. Mozak walked quietly behind him. He was furious with him. “What was wrong with him? Why is he acting so arrogant?” Mozak thought to himself. Mozak then saw quickly that some of the people were looking at them, but when he turned to them, they quickly turned away. As the two walked out of the Bar, Mozak realized something. If the Bartender knew that the mysterious rider was a he, then he might know where the Rider is! Mozak was so excited to figure this out, that he pulled on Xenon’s sleeve. Xenon just ignored him.

“Xenon. Xenon listen to me. I think I figured out who is the Rider,” Mozak said.

Xenon looked frustrated. He just wanted to ask someone some answers, and now he can’t even see Wero without people barking at him. He was just angry with how everyone was acting. If only if they understood that he was only just trying to help them, to free them from this cruel life. “What did you find?” Xenon asked.

“The Bartender said the Rider was a he, so we know he is man,” Mozak said. “It might not be much for now, but we can find out more later.”

Xenon looked a little relived. At least someone understood what he was doing was for the right thing. “Your right Mozak. We can look into that, but first, let’s hide these clothes, they make us identifiable,” Xenon said.

Mozak agreed, and the two went into a little shop to buy rags to disguise themselves.

Meanwhile, three black figures were moving across the Desert on horses. They were covered in black, and their shadows left an equal mark on the sand. These were Argon, Zinc, and Radon. The only one thing that makes this different, it that they’re riding in the middle of the day, when the sun would kill a person in minutes. But the Archers came prepared. The Zakaz scientists, discovering new things about the decaying planet, made cloaks to protect objects and creatures from the deadly effects of the sun and radiation. Now the Zakaz march without harm from the cruel surroundings. Argon was riding faster than the rest. He rode past the skeleton monsters and pass the metal figure rooted out of the ground and halted by a dune slope. Radon and Zinc joined him.

“HERE IT IS. THE METAL MOUNTAINS!” Argon proclaimed.

“Excellent work gentlemen. We made the ride in only one and a half days, a perfect time especially in these conditions. I would consider we should split up, so we could find the Purple Rider,” Radon explained.

“I agree with that. I’ll go to Wero’s Hall to see him about our situation. Radon you can go see the military outpost here, tell them to begin searching homes. Argon, you can go undercover in some way,” Zinc said.


“You do have a point there. Maybe perhaps you can find the Rider itself?” Radon asked?


“Just remember Argon, we need the Rider alive. Just in case if we can’t find the Texts” Zinc said.


“It would depend on if we need the Rider afterwards,” Zinc said as he and Radon rode down the slope to the city.

Argon just stood there for a moment. “Dang-it I hate being left in suspense. I mean we’re probably going to kill it, but I just want to know if I have permission to rip its limbs off. I mean, it’s my favorite thing to do to traitors. But I’ll be patient, I really hope we could keep its head,” Argon said as he joined his friends to the city.

Meanwhile, Xenon and Mozak were roaming the streets. They were covered in robes to disguise themselves. They looked at all the little shops set up around them. Some people were selling food, weapons, and other nick-knacks hanging from the ceilings of the small markets. Suddenly, they heard a galloping sound. In the distance there was someone riding a horse, but Mozak saw something. He saw something that he remembered from before, and when he realized what is was, he grabbed Xenon.

“It’s Zinc!” Mozak whispered to Xenon as quiet as he could. Xenon heard this and they both quickly slunk back into the crowd of people moving aside for the Rider. Zinc didn’t stop though and continued riding, but Mozak felt horrified as he gave a glance to the crowd while riding.

“The Archers’ must be here. They must be looking for the Rider as we are!” Mozak whispered. “We have to hurry, maybe we should go to see if Wero is available?” Mozak asked.

“It may be our only option left, but let’s not attract to much attention to ourselves. We should wait outside and wait for our appointment with Wero. We don’t want to cause any conflict,” Xenon said. Mozak agreed, and the two went back to city hall. It was only 4:30pm, but their appointment was at 5:00pm. Hopefully, Xenon thought, maybe Wero can see they are in a hurry. If they’re not careful, the whole town could become a blood-massacre.

Zinc was riding past the buildings, past the markets and people, until he reached city hall. He got off his horse and walked up into the building. There was sand covering his armor, and he sneezed a little at the sand covering his face. He walked up to the Snake assistant. The assistant looked worried but knew to keep calm around these types of authority.

“Hello Zinc, how can we help you today?” she said.

“Greetings miss. I know this may be at late notice, but I need to speak with Wero privately. It is a matter of life or death,” Zinc said coldly.

“Of course. He does have an appointment in a little bit, but you can see him now,” she said.

Zinc thanked her, and he went into Wero’s office. Inside the office, there was a large table by a large window. Ancient paintings of lurking creatures covered the walls, and there was a skeleton of a Kongbu in the corner of the room. Its lifeless expression gave an unsettling feeling in the room. By the window, which was cracked a little from the years of the Desert, Wero was standing. He looked completely frozen, and the only movement that came out of him was a little flapping of his wings to stretch out. He was smoking a long pipe, made from a broken branch, and blew a fog of red smoke.

“Welcome Zinc, Archer of the Last Khan. How can I help you today,” Wero said as he turned around. He was tired from the past stressful days at work, but he tried to be polite.

“Lord Wero, I have come because of the Riders. It is believed to be that the Purple Rider is here with the Forbidden Texts, and we believe this because this is the only settlement this far west. I am with both Argon and Radon right now, and we need to search the area. We need you to shut down all importing and exporting of people from this point on. No one shall leave this place, or enter this place without our approval,” Zinc explained.

Wero only stood there, his face turned a little frustrated now from exhaustion.  “Zinc, I don’t wish to bore you with our politics, seeing how you are very busy at the moment, but if you wish to imprison my entire community off of the belief of a wild goose chase, then the sun here might’ve melted your brain down a bit,” Wero said.

Zinc stepped closer to Wero. “It is not a wild goose chase, Wero. It is a matter of life or death! If we don’t find these texts, they could fall into the wrong hands, and we could lose everything. Not only me, but your whole community you’ve worked to revive from the dirt, will fall. If you wish for that not to happen, I expect you may want to help us right now,” Zinc said aggressively.

Wero again stood there, his frustrated face now with fiery eyes piercing Zinc’s inflamed eyes also. “Don’t you think you can come here and make threats like that. I understand the fragile nature of this community, and you know I would never allow something like that to happen. I will imprison and kill anyone who dares to even touch the waters here with a naked hand. I would kill anyone who dares to betray my people, our society, your kingdom. The king may be powerful in his realm, but no one is powerful here. We are all surviving,” Wero finished. He took a step back, surprised about how much he said. Did he really have that much stress to cause him to snap like that? Zinc also calmed down, but before he could say anything else, a guard knocked at the door. “What is it?” Wero said.

“Chief Wero, I come with a report. Two have drunk from the waters naked. One was a man, he drank with his dirty hands. He wore some type of ancient robes and was carrying a bag of unknown supplies. The other was a Zakaz, a Gecko by the look of it, and he swam in the water. He was also in rags and was carrying by the looks of it a sword of some sort. I apologize greatly for not stopping them, but the guards were busy elsewhere. I was going to send my troops out to find them, is that ok?” the Agalma guard said as he nipped a little at his shoulder from an itch.

Wero stood frozen again, but then started to shake in anger. His loose feathers flew around quickly, and his beak clamped down tightly. “Malak, I order you to find these characters, and bring them to me, alive, for interrogating. Such an act in this area, should be treated with a reasonable punishment,” Wero said.

Zinc was thinking now for a second, but he then asked, “What type of punishment?”

“The punishment of justified chains, or a dead head from the slimy body,” Wero proclaimed.

Zinc nodded and walked a little to the wall of the room thinking. “A man and a Zakaz? One wearing strange robes the other Zakaz in rags. They must’ve been marching the Desert for a long time, if they came here so pain-ridden. They sound familiar. But who?” Zinc thought to himself. Then slowly, as a train begins to move along, the rusted gears of Zinc’s began to move. The pieces were coming together. Then in a flash, he realized what the picture was.

“Wero, I would like if I could be a part of these interrogations. Would that be ok?” Zinc asked. Wero nodded in agreement, and suddenly, his assistant came in.

“Excuse me sir, but your 5:00pm appointment is here,” she said.

“Thank you Sisan, bring them in. Zinc maybe you would like to sit down while I take care of this?” Wero asked.

“Of course, we’ll get this taken care of after you speak with your people. But maybe we could also question them if they know anything about the Rider?” Zinc said. Wero agreed, and Zinc went to go sit down in a large velvet chair in the corner of the room. The two characters entered the room.

Xenon and Mozak entered the room slowly, not wanting to be rude in the presence of Wero. Xenon felt so relieved that Wero was able to see them quickly, for he saw Zakaz troops marching across the streets when they entered the building. Mozak told Xenon that he saw, with the glimpse of his eye, that Radon was here too and was leading the troops. Xenon thought to himself, now that two of the most dangerous creatures of the planet are here, how could it get any worse?

“Welcome friends, how can I help you today?” Wero said kindly. Xenon was relived; it looked pretty good so far.

“My Lord Wero, we are two travelers who seek highly important information that may be here in your great society,” Xenon said. He has never seen or met Wero before, and he wanted to be off on a good start. Wero looked tense from a day’s long work, his skeletal posture looking twisted and tense.

“What type of information do you seek friends?” Wero said. For some reason they looked familiar to Wero. But he couldn’t remember why.

Mozak was watching silently also, when he heard a creak from the side of the room. He turned to see what it was, and he turned back pale as the moon. It was Zinc, he was watching them closely now. Mozak wanted to nudge Xenon, but he knew if he did that, all would be over. The best move was to be quiet for now.

Zinc was watching these two travelers now curiously. “A man and a Zakaz?” he thought to himself. He then noticed a blade off the Zakaz’s waste. It looked like a nice sword, possibly made from iron. “Iron? Iron?!” Zinc thought to himself now both surprised and angry. He then slowly got up.

Wero was now looking at the two less happy. He remembered the guard’s report, and he knew what two creatures did. These were the two creatures.

Xenon looked nervous as Wero’s kind face turned blank, then transformed into an angry snarl. He heard a step behind him so silently, that if he hadn’t heard it, he might’ve been dead.

They were discovered, and Zinc had out his sword.

Zinc slashed at Xenon, and Xenon quickly dodged it as fast as he could but ended up tripping on the floor. Zinc lunged at him slashing at the floor, and Xenon tried to block with his shield-spells, but Zinc advanced on him with no end. Xenon had no choice but to grab his own sword and battle in a duel with Zinc. Their blades clashed aggressively, and Zinc stepped back quickly to posture himself. Now the two were dueling in Wero’s office.

While all of this was happening, Mozak took out his sword to help Xenon, but Wero attacked him. Wero flew forward using his light but powerful wings, and grabbed Mozak with his clawed feet, and slammed him into the ground. Wero pressed Mozak down into the ground, causing Mozak to cry out in pain. Mozak quickly began randomly swiping his sword, causing Wero to step back. Not scared, but confused, and frustrated. It was then Wero decided to get out his own sword, and that made Mozak’s pride sink in this battle. Wero pulled out a long beautiful blade. It was slim and long, with a sharp point at the end, with a double curved top, and a smooth grip with a pointy end. And on this blade, ancient carvings of beasts, angels, and demons covered the handle. Wero then slowly raised his blade, and as if a dance, made two perfect swipes at Mozak. The first one caused Mozak to fall back, the second giving him a cut on the leg. He winced at the pain, as his leg began to bleed quickly. Wero then swiped at him again, but not to kill him, but to disarm him. Wero jagged his blade into Mozak’s hand, to cause Mozak to drop his sword. Mozak did drop his blade by this gesture, and Wero pressed him to the floor again with his talon feet. Mozak had lost all pride of his idea of being a swordsman. He thought he handled the Basureros great, but he can’t even fight another equally matched. He knew he needed more practice, but he didn’t know if he’ll ever be able to practice again after this.

Meanwhile, Xenon and Zinc were fighting. While Xenon went for more powerful and slow strikes, Zinc made quicker slashes and quick dodges. It was then when Xenon tried to cast a fire-spell, Zinc pulled out his Fire-Sword and aimed it at Xenon. The result caused a burst of fire in the room, that slammed both Xenon and Zinc to the ground. Zinc got up quickly, fueled with rage, and grabbed Xenon with his clawed hand. He wanted to crush the Shaman’s neck for his treacherous behavior, but he knew the Archers would want him alive for questioning. So, he punched him in the head, and knocked Xenon out.

Both Mozak and Xenon laid helpless before Wero and Zinc, warriors of fury. Mozak didn’t know what would happen next, but if it was death, he hoped it would be quick.