The rain lashed across the faces of the cluster of people gathered together on the borders of Mistwood. Everyone was huddled close, it was their only way to fight the searching grasp of the icy cold water. Most of the people were wearing cloaks of the deepest black, and most had their hoods up. Across from them were four men draped in bright white robes, each with a white beard protruding from under their hoods and a sword hanging from their silver belts. In the middle of the two groups was a dead body, covered in tributes such as flowers, daggers and pieces of clothing. The dead man was identical to the four men who stood solemnly staring at the body, from the white robe and the sword, to the white beard climbing down his chest. The dead man was Farwind. A legendary figure amongst those who new him, and those who didn't know him will probably have heard stories of his deeds. Wielding power of such magnitude that his enemies cowered at the very mention of his name (of which he had many). The people gathered at Mistwood were grieving the mans death and wondering what the repercussions would be when the dust settled, but the men in white grieved more than most. They had lost the only member of their order who had wondered the land of Thoun and mixed with its people. The public representation of the Everland Magi, and a much loved man amongst his colleagues. The people of Mistwood were deeply in debt to Farwind. He had protected their borders countless times and eventually brought the Mistwood into a long period of peace. His arts died with him, so the spells and enchantments that protected this small race were erased. The four magi watched as a woman came forward slowly, fighting the elements to get over to the still body of Farwind. She stumbled as a particularly powerful gust of wind came screaming down upon the congregation of people. One of the Magi held his hand above his head and the wind abated, letting the woman come forward. She kneeled beside the old man and placed a red rose upon his chest, tears rolling down her cheeks. She said a prayer then kissed Farwinds brow. She then slowly got to her feet and walked into the waiting embrace of her son. The magi were now looking at the very boy who was comforting his mother. Tears were rolling down his face as well, but this wasn't the thing that alarmed them. It was the fact that the boy was looking straight at them that perplexed them. The members of the Everland Magi were invisible to untrained eyes, and this boys eyes were not supposed to be trained. With this thought in mind the men in white started back to there demesne.
Thoras stood locked in the embrace of his mother. The death of Master Acemorn was a grievous blow to everyone in Mistwood village and worst of all they were vulnerable to an attack at any time. The attacks were usually just irritating but the attack yesterday was different. Blue light and fire had danced in the air and Master Acemorn had looked scared. His face looked terrible as he threw all of his arts at whatever had attacked the village.