Chapter Sixteen
Cost of BloodÍkelos had spent a great deal of time travelling. His armoured boots cast deep impressions across the land in earth and stone, scarring the ground with a warning tale of his passing. Within the sound of his never-faltering footfall, audible only to himself, came the rhythmic beating of a tribal drum, urging him onward. Unaccustomed to a corporeal form, it had taken him many miles to realise this driving tattoo was in fact the beating of his own heart. His gaze remained transfixed upon the distant horizon, to the location he sought. The Mountains of Light had always been shrouded in myths and fables, earning their name from the unidentifiable phenomenon which caused the land and plant-life of that location to emit a soft glow. Throughout the various cycles the
