A sense of peace descended on Merlin as he entered the forest, striding quickly along the light dappled path to the tower. Enchanted forests were very pleasant. He almost forgot about his wound in the calm of the wood; the pain faded into the back of his mind.

Abruptly, the birdsong disappeared, followed by the gradual dissipation of the enchanted peace. Eyes narrowed, Merlin slowed his gait, scanning the trees around him. Could his sister have caught up so quickly?

Light dimmed as if a cloud covered the sun, but Merlin recalled there had only been blue skies back in the field. That’s when he saw him; a dark knight standing utterly still among the trees.

Gloom surrounded the figure, his presence darkening the woods. The man – if so he was – stood over seven feet; clad in black armor and draped with an equally black cloak. His face was hidden, and his two-handed sword rested point first in the ground before him. Looking into that sword was like looking into the abyss itself.

“Can I help you?” Merlin asked.