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him. “You have no right to be here, now get out,” he said, pushing her and causing her to stumble backwards.
    Jonas tried to move out of his mother’s way but his body refused to react quickly enough. Lorna crashed into him and they tumbled to the floor. Several other townspeople began to taunt them, whispering curses and shooting them shunning stares as Jonas fumbled for his crutch.
    Suddenly the entire room lit up with a bright light, and their voices hushed instantly. The light was pure white, and as it washed over everyone the feeling of tension subsided. Though the light was almost blinding, it caused them no harm. Quite the opposite; Jonas felt invigorated and happy as he slowly stood up, the insults becoming an increasingly distant memory. Everyone looked up; the light slowly dissipating from Airos’s outstretched hands. To Jonas’s eyes it looked like the light just drained into his body.
    Airos looked directly at Jonas and his mother as they slowly stood. Jonas saw a hint of a smile before he turned his gaze on Marsk and several others. The change in his expression was so severe that Jonas thought he would draw his sword and strike Marsk down where he stood. Airos’s hawk-like eyes pierced Marsk’s tough façade, forcing him to look away.
    “What is the meaning of this? Is not a woman and her boy welcome in the town’s hall?” Airos asked; his voice strong and demanding. Something in the powerful voice stirred Jonas to his core. He felt like he would follow this man to his grave and back. The white light was definitely magic and Jonas thought that maybe Airos was using magic in his voice as well. Having never experienced magic before, he just stared at Airos with awe, his every word reverberating through the hall like a god’s voice. Maybe it was a god’s voice thought Jonas.  
    The others felt it too. His voice was magical and commanding and everyone looked directly at him as if in a trance. Airos looked around the room slowly. “What kind of village is this that turns its back on its own townspeople? This boy is a cripple. The gods willed it so, for reasons we know not. Who are any of you to question their will?”
    No one said a word as Airos scanned the crowd before finally directing his gaze to Marsk, the butcher. “The poor and the weak should be protected, or we become nothing more than the evil that threatens this town. Am I understood, butcher?”
    Marsk, his eyes showing his nervousness, scanned the room. He turned back to Airos trying to match his stare, but to no avail. Marsk, lowering his eyes said, “Yes sir. You are quite right.”
    “It is not I who am right, but the High One. I am his voice and that is why I am here. Men and women of Manson, listen closely to what I have to say for I am a cavalier of Ulren, the High One. I am his warrior and I fight to protect the righteous and the good of the lands. Airos drew forth his sword with one smooth motion and held it high in the air, the silver blade glowing green and humming as if alive. The crowd was deathly silent as they listened. “I fight the vile darkness spreading through the lands like a plague. I fight this evil on Ulren’s demands. He has directed me here, to your hardy mountain town.” Airos stopped and sheathed his sword.
    Jonas grabbed his mother’s hand tightly as Airos’s gaze moved over him like a searchlight.
    “A small army of boargs approaches your town even as we speak,” Airos said bluntly.
    The townspeople erupted with frightened responses to this grave news. Jonas felt his mother squeeze his hand tightly as she pulled him closer. Boargs , thought Jonas, what would happen to the town? What would happen to those like him and his mother who couldn’t run or fight? The questions rolled around in his mind.
    Airos’s powerful voice rang through the hall again, quieting the townspeople. “That is not all. This force is led by a Banthra.”
    The shock of this news hit the townspeople like a hammer. They all stood