Description: Prologue "If we get caught--" "We won''t! I promise." A teenage boy walked quickly with his friend through their village and into the forest. The moon was shining brightly through the trees and they could hear crickets waking up all around them. Stepping on a branch, which made a loud noise when it broke in half, the boy froze to listen for any sounds from the village. His friend stopped and rolled his eyes. "Are you serious?" he said. "They can''t hear us." "You don''t understand," the boy said. "If I get caught, it''ll be chores every day for the next millennium!" "Come on. They won''t even know we did it. We''ll be home before you know it. "The boy hesitated but followed his friend through the darkened forest, being careful not to follow the commonly used paths to avoid being seen. They heard the sound of the rushing water before they could make out the banks of the Hechi River, which separated their country, Mituwa from the Srepan border. The boy''s father had promised to take him to visit the ancient ruins in Srepas. He was looking forward to the trip but didn''t know if he would still be able to go if he and his friend were caught. His friend suddenly laughed out loud, interrupting his thoughts. "Oh, what I wouldn''t give to see the look on the old seer''s face when his boat starts to sink." The boy gave a nervous laugh. "He won''t even know what''s happening until it''s too late." "It''ll be the ?rst time he''d get a good wash, I bet!" "Maybe the smell will go away for a while. We won''t have to hold our noses at the village meetings." "''The trees!''" his friend shouted, mimicking the seer in a high pitched voice. "''The animals! You must be one with nature!''" "Keep it down," the boy said, laughing. "You don''t want them to hear us. "The two boys found the wooden boat they were looking for, the only one tied to the dock with a makeshift bed made out of leaves, sticks, and manure. ''For warmth'' on cold nights, the seer always explained. "Did you bring it?" his friend said. "Yes, of course." The boy reached out and handed his friend the cork screw he was holding. "Should be enough to make a small ho--" He froze, his heart doing a small ?ip-?op in his chest. "Do you smell that?" His friend sni'ed the air. "It smells like smoke. "Both boys looked up into the sky and saw it. A huge plume of smoke rising from the direction of their village. They then heard the screams, carried towards them with the wind. Without so much as glancing at each other, they ran back towards the village. In the forest, the smoke was much denser, making it hard to see, but they knew where they were going. It was their forest, they knew each tree, each and every path made by their families and the generations before them. Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw when they came out of the forest. Their whole village was on ?re. Every home. Every stable. Every wagon. The animals could be heard bellowing for someone to release them from their burning quarters. But it wasn''t the ? res that shocked the two boys the most. Soldiers. King Tholenod''s soldiers. They were rounding up the villagers, linking them together with chains, beating or killing anyone who resisted. Why are they doing this? the boy thought. What wrong have we done to upset the king? His mind was racing. It just did not make any sense. His worst fears were realized when he spotted his parents among the captured. His mother was screaming and crying, leaning against his father who was holding her, trying to calm her down. In that moment, his eyes locked with that of his son''s and he looked frightened. His mother stopped screaming when she saw him too and she looked around fearfully. Then his parents began gesturing for him to leave, to run away. "We have to get out of here!" the boy told his friend. It was then that two soldiers grabbed his friend, who started screaming. The boy turned to run but was tackled by two other soldiers. Knowing he may have a chance to lose them in the forest, he struggled, hoping they would release him for a moment. Only one moment. That''s all he needed. When the soldiers picked him up o? the ground, he kicked one soldier hard in the groin and bit the other one''s hand. As the soldiers released him, he took o? running towards the forest. He hadn''t realized they had already clamped a chain to his ankle when they tackled him. He fell to the ground when one of the soldiers grabbed the chain. He was then dragged back towards them. He tried to pull himself free, to prevent the soldiers from grabbing him again, but his e'orts were useless. They were simply too strong for him. Roughly, the soldier, whose hand he had bitten, stood him up and yanked his hair back hard so his neck was exposed. The other soldier pulled out his sword. "We don''t need this one," he said. "We''ve got plenty."

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