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speed onward and sacrifice its own life to preserve its rider. Now, however, he was struck by the animal's plight. Besides that, he had covered half the distance in less than half a day, excellent progress, past the point where the road turned southwards and parallel to the Saldean River. This was as good a point to leave the road as any, and little would be gained by remaining upon it longer. He climbed down off his horse, and looked back down the road as far as his magically enhanced vision would allow. Nothing. "Home," he commanded his horse. Darkstar looked at him strangely, as if confused by the command to return without a rider. Then he repeated the command more sternly, and Darkstar walked slowly back down the road.
    He looked off into the tangled mess of the forest, an almost solid wall of dull brown and green, made up of the variously sized trees, bushes, and vines. He stepped off the road between two large willows, careful to disturb the brush as little as possible, hoping his pursuers would lose time trying to figure out exactly where he turned into the forest. Though he managed to conceal the point where he left the road, progress quickly became difficult only a short way into the forest. The vines proved the worst problem. He tried to avoid having to cut them, but it soon became necessary. Unfortunately, the cut vines and hacked trees left an unmistakable trail for pursuers to follow, but there was no point worrying about it now. There was nothing to do but push forward.
    Darien made his way west as quickly as he could. He cut through the woods leaving as little sign as possible. Going was slow, but desperation and fear kept him moving. He ran, jumped, and climbed through the obstacles of the forest to the south and the west, slipping on slick roots, stepping into deep holes concealed by an even floor of leaves, and constantly becoming entangled in the vines, many of which stung his face and hands with sharp thorns. Hours passed with no change in the forest, and no sign he was getting close to the lake. Day passed into night, and exhaustion began to slow his pace. As his own strength faded, he clung more tightly to the Demon Sword. His ability to control the energy faded, but he needed to go on. In desperation, he began to give in to the demonic power.
    As the will of the sword took him, the world around him changed. Objects became distorted and unfocused, as if seen through distant haze. The colors of the world inverted, with light and darkness trading their proper places. The dark shapes of the ground and trees appeared to become uniformly white as bone. The night sky turned a dull red, the color of old dried blood. The great moon became a dark hole in the red sky, and the stars appeared as tiny pinpricks of emptiness. Objects in the distance appeared as various shades of grey, from dark charcoal to the light gray color of fresh ashes. A thin greenish gray dust seemed to hang in the air, swirling and drifting erratically and clouding the world with an ominous dry mist. Even as his world twisted like the image in a kaleidoscope, he could feel his strength growing. His legs pumped faster, as though they could feel no fatigue. He swung the sword wildly, felling everything in front of him. The half mad fugitive lost track of time, and felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness even as he moved forward at an increasing pace. His thoughts became confused, as though he was lost between sleep and waking. Whether hours or minutes passed he could no longer tell.
    The next thing Darien became aware of was the water. The sudden, jarring cold of the water shocked his mind back to sanity for a moment. He had charged blindly into the waters of the lake and was already up to his knees. The foggy darkness of Lake Kalena lay before him. He stopped and listened. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of hounds barking, and worse. He had no time to rest. He removed his mail armor, ridding himself of the extra weight. He