That night, in an old house.
The old, uninhabited house on the edge of the usually quiet forest was now filled with several people dressed in dark clothes, masks covering their faces.
They moved quickly and silently. They didn't speak either. They immediately pulled over in front of the old wooden house that still looked sturdy.
They waited in silence as two figures dismounted from their horses.
The group watched their surroundings, wary of unseen shadows, mindful of how important their guests were.
The new arrivals approached, removed their head coverings, and looked alert.
Seeing their faces clearly, the group immediately knelt down without a sound.
Then a man came out from inside and smiled in welcome.
"Your Majesty, welcome. I'm Jirkan. My master is waiting for you." Jirkan saluted and invited Sylas to enter.
Amos, who stood alert behind him, watched warily, because he was fully responsible for Sylas today.
