Ian wondered around feeling the direction he should move in based on the sword. Arene watched as Ian went from walking around on flat ground and sidestepping obstacles to taking on much more challenging feats, like climbing up and down stairs, and when Arene finally told him to remove the blindfold, Ian turned to see the path he had walked and was amazed to look back at where he had come from. He was standing on a stone wall, and stretching from his feet to another wall over a gap half filled with a pile of hay was a tight rope. And there was Arene smiling up at him from the ground below, standing just beside the pile of hay.
�Did I cross that?� asked Ian.
�That you did!� replied the prince, �You�ve made a lot of progress just today. When you�ve strengthened a little more, you�ll be doing some more challenging exercises, but we�ll call it a day for your training.�
Ian and Arene went to the hall where a meal awaited them.
While eating, Ian asked, �Can you tell me about a man I saw in the pool last night?�
�The one wielding Alitheia?� asked the prince.
�Yes, who is he?� responded Ian only a little surprised the prince knew of whom he spoke.
�Well, he�s your brother now for one; his name is Cathmor. He�s on his way home right now,� said the prince, �He�s a soldier by profession and a noble by blood, and he should be home very soon. He came from an island far from here where Apostrefo and his bands appear more often and more openly. In the case of Cathmor�s village, they knew the enemy was coming, but they believed they were strong enough to fight their own battles. And they were a very strong people, well known for producing excellent fighters, but the strength of people is of little to no affect when fighting Apostrefo�s forces.
Cathmor was part of an advance party sent to weaken the enemy before they actually had the chance to lay siege to the village itself. He was young and had little experience, but he was well trained. As he rode into battle, he was hit by an arrow and critically wounded. In spite of all of his training, Cathmor was powerless to fight the enemy. The battle was not a long one. The villagers had underestimated their enemy. When Cathmor fell from his horse his leg was trampled by the beast, and when he looked up, most of his comrades were already retreating. Many had been picked off from afar by the arrows of the enemy before any of them had reached the front lines. Cathmor found a large shrub nearby and crawled under it to bleed to death in relative peace. In only half an hour, barely having a chance to draw their swords, his comrades had begun retreating, not even bothering to find out where he was or what happened to him; those who were left were being eaten. Had Cathmor not been hidden he would�ve been eaten as well; had my father not found him, Cathmor would�ve bled to death. My father is also an excellent healer, and when Cathmor was brought back to the palace, he was taught the ways of Alitheia. Now he is a warrior, a hunter, who lives to vanquish the abominations that make up Apostrefo�s army, thereby protecting other villages and cities from the same fate as his former home.�