A red-haired boy sat over a grave. It was not marked with any name, but he knew it held his father. Cole Maelstrom had died in a fight with The Shade, but his son survived him. Alaric Maelstrom now thought only of vengance and the man who killed his father.
He now had Adastros, his father's sword in a sheath on his back. He wore all black and red. A black longcoat with red trim, black gloves and boots with red trim, a red shirt, and black pants. He set a sword to mark Cole's grave.
"Asherah... Odd last words, my father had. Seek out Asherah... I will father, but first, revenge."
The day was bright in the town they stayed in. There was music playing, people selling so many goods, and, of course, the singing of swords. Ash and Claire were training with Marcus in the yard. "I've been wandering for years," The Knight thought. "I've never found a true home. Until now, that is. I've a family now... These two now act like they're my daughters... I never knew what true joy felt like before now." He smiled, but refused to divulge why to the girls.
Chris sat down with his map. "In a few hours, the sun will set. That's when we will make our way to the Tower of Wind." He said with an enthusiasm he normally lacked.
"Hmmm..." A woman with paper-white skin stepped out of a pool of blood to look at a dark crystal. "The Crimson Demon Killer is dead... Good. And Aleah? Has not made it to the tower yet! I will have to burn some sense into her when she returns. Why am I cursed with that failure for a niece? I cannot kill her either, he who slays his kin is forever loathed by gods and men... I refuse to do that to myself when suicide missions are good enough." She said as she walked back to her tub, poured herself a glass of wine, and slipped her figure back into the liquid.