• The golden light of the dying sun leapt through the sparse canopy like spears. The leaves whispered amongst themselves as the wind breathed silently through the forest. Someone stepped into the clearing. She was stunningly beautiful, her face seemed to shine and shadows leapt away from her bare feet. She was clothed in a white gown and wore a belt of golden leaves. She silently padded towards the largest tree at the centre of the clearing. It was a giant, centuries old, not that time had any meaning in the Twilight. She ran her slender fingers across the gnarled bark and whispered, ‘Hu fhy ghert Shradout ves.’ The wood slipped away from her fingertips like a living thing and twisted itself into an ornate doorway. Light leapt from the opening, alighting on her smile as she stepped through the arch. Her silhouette was outlined for a second and then she disappeared. The patterns on the arch faded slowly and the tree let out something that sounded like a sigh, before silently blending back into its true form.
    Time passed, and a black-clothed figure floated down from the branches of a nearby tree, landing silently on the leaf strewn ground. His entire body was covered in black cloth apart from a slit in the mask, about an inch wide, showing deep blue eyes. On his back he carried a spear, about five and half feet in length, with a gilt handle and two points, each with a blade on the outward-facing edge. He stood, and his eyes closed. He remained there for a moment, then a ripple, reminiscent of heat distortion, emerged from the air around his head, dissipating into the air a few feet away from his body. Still he stood there, like a statue, not moving in the slightest. Then the shadows beneath the trees surrounding the clearing simultaneously moved forward. The further they got from the trees, the less like shadows they looked, ending up as dark humans, or something similar, in the centre, next to the man with blue eyes.
    “What have you found, Gilt?” It was unclear who the speaker was, but the question was obviously directed at the man in the centre.
    “The Queen went in there,” Gilt gestured towards the giant tree, “I believe she has the Celix.”
    There was a collective intake of breath. The Shadows had been scouting the Twilight for days and, apart from the odd skirmish with the Guardians, everything had been quiet. The Shadows surrounded the tree, their hands darting this way and that across the bark, searching for something, anything, which could conceal a doorway.
    “You won’t find anything,” said Gilt. Heads turned to see Gilt standing, with his arms folded and light glinting off his eyes, doing nothing. “She spoke some words; a password of sorts.”
    “Well?”
    Gilt shrugged. “I don’t know what she said; she spoke in the Guardian Tongue.” He glanced towards a Shadow on the edge of the group. The figure stepped forward, unwrapping its headscarf to reveal a beautiful female face, perfectly crafted features, a regal brow crowned with golden, shoulder-length hair. Sara was the group’s authority on the Guardian’s culture, customs and language, and her looks meant she could quite easily pass for a Guardian, if she wished. Like most of the Shadows, she had a long rapier sheathed at her side and a short bow and arrows slung on her back.
    “Even with a password,” her clear, sweet voice blew through the clearing like a summer wind, “there will still be a trigger, the Guardians aren’t ones to pass on double security.”
    The ranks parted to let her examine the tree properly. She ran her fingers over the bark, pushing gently on a patch that was slightly smooth to the touch. The ancient tree shivered and its leaves rustled, almost angrily, as if blown by a strong wind.
    “Now,” said Sara, stepping back and turning to face her comrades, “all we need is a password.”
    “Maybe not,” said Gilt, and pointed to the tree. The bark had begun to flow like a liquid, light shone through a crack in the bark, it grew brighter, and the crack grew wider until it formed an arch from which the light shone. Gilt stepped forward, towards the light, but Sara grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, he turned and looked at her face, her brow was creased marginally.
    “Something’s not right,” she said, her eyes never leaving the arch in the tree. The light continued shining, until slowly, and gradually, it faded until all that was left was a dark opening. Sara’s grip on Gilt’s shoulder slowly loosened and her hand dropped back by her side.
    “I don’t like it,” she said cautiously, “but we have no choice. We have to get the Celix.” Gilt turned to look at the group standing behind him. There were about fifteen in all, but if he was going to enter a Guardian fortress then he didn’t want to take too many troops.
    “Okay, I’m going in. Sara, I want you with me, your knowledge will prove invaluable, Fold, we’ll need your magic and Adam, just in case there are any locks that need picking, although I doubt it. The rest of you, spread out around this area, not too close, but just close enough that you can encircle the clearing without any gaps. Lure away any Guardians that come close; I want my exit clear. Sara, Fold, Adam, lets get going.” They walked together through the arch, and it closed behind them, completely blocking out all light from outside.
    Fold murmured some words in the Ancient tongue and a dim, ethereal light enveloped the party. Gilt indicated that they should follow him and they began walking down a long corridor. After only about ten steps, Fold breathed in sharply. Gilt’s head snapped round.
    “What is it?” he hissed.
    “We’ve just passed through a magic portal of some sort,” there was real fear in Fold’s eyes as he said this; “we’re no longer in the Twilight.” Gilt pushed his way past Adam and Sara to the end of the group and carried on walking. He stopped abruptly and staggered backwards. He kicked the wall of the corridor and groaned.
    “They’ve sealed the exit; it’s a trap!” he growled, and kicked the wall again. Adam put his hand on Gilt’s shoulder.
    “There’s no point getting exasperated or angry, we’re not dead yet,” he said quietly, “there’s still a chance of getting out.” Gilt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He walked to the front of the line and carried on walking. Fold looked questioningly at Adam and he indicated that they should follow. They continued their journey into the Guardian stronghold. It felt like they had been walking for at least half an hour when suddenly the corridor ended and the ceiling opened out into a huge hall. The roof was supported by pillars, over thirty feet high and everything was pure white. As soon as all four of them had entered, the room was lit up and Gilt began to feel extremely uncomfortable.
    “Fold, can you open us up a portal back to the Twilight?” he whispered out the corner of his mouth. Fold shook his head.
    “Ever since we’ve passed the barrier I’ve felt a restriction on my magic, I can’t muster quite enough energy to do something that powerful.”
    “Slah asf vay tasdt,” the voice rang out true like a musical note throughout the hall, not beginning anywhere, nor ending anywhere. Gilt glanced at Sara.
    “What did it say?”
    “You will all die,” she said softly and drew her bow, setting an arrow to the string. Directly in front of the group a thick mist was forming. Gilt readied his spear and Adam his throwing knives. Fold closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them the pupil and iris glowed an unnatural blue.
    “I’m ready,” he said, his voice echoing power. A tall, majestic figure stepped out of the mist. She looked like most other Guardians, incredibly beautiful, with the characteristic high cheekbones, wide brow and blonde hair, her lips smiling kindly. She wore a long, blue dress without a train, so as not to hinder her movement. She beckoned to the small group, but they stood their ground. She giggled happily, and her eyes began to glow. Sara released an arrow, whipping another one to her string as soon as it had left her bow. The arrow sped towards the Guardian, seeking out the spot in the left breast where the Guardian’s heart resided. However, before the arrow could strike, the lady flung up her left arm and the arrow ricocheted off towards the ceiling as if it had hit a solid object. She then brought her arm around fluidly to point at Gilt, and a bolt of fire sprouted from her fingertip, leaping across the room like lightning. Fold threw himself in front of Gilt and the bolt of fire smashed into his magical barrier. There was a sound like breaking glass, and Fold recoiled.
    “I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly, “but that took up all my energy, you’re going to have to protect me whilst I recharge.”
    Gilt nodded, no breath left for words, and charged towards the Guardian, dodging out of the way of the flurry of magical attacks that followed this assault. An arrow flew over his shoulder and he glanced back to see Sara still continuing to release missiles. He turned to face the Guardian again just in time to see a pulsing beam of energy coming towards him, there was no time to evade. The magic bolt caught him on the shoulder, flinging him in the air and sending him spinning into the rear wall to fall ten feet onto the hard ground.
    Sara gasped and immediately ran to his side, kneeling next to his body. He coughed, and opened his eyes.
    “I’m sorry,” Gilt said, through clenched teeth, his legs and right arm twisted and broken, “I can do nothing… more for you. If you make it out… of this accursed place, look after Kale… for me…” He closed his eyes. “If I die here… don’t think of me again until… you’ve escaped…” He was gasping for breath. Sara nodded and saluted, tears springing to the corners of her eyes. Sara, get back here! Fold’s voice was desperate in her mind. You can do nothing more for him! Sara spun round to see Adam throwing each of his knives rhythmically, Fold enchanting them with various hexes as they flew through the air. The Guardian was just toying with them, not attacking, just casting each knife aside, and smiling all the while. Sara ran back towards her comrades, the Guardian glanced towards her and caught Adam’s final knife, bringing her arm round to fling it. Sara never stood a chance.
    “The magical restriction’s gone!” Fold exclaimed, “I think I can open us up a portal!” Adam wasn’t listening; he was kneeling by Sara’s side. He looked up at Fold, tears wetting his cheeks, and sadly shook his head.
    “I can’t leave her,” he said, “I’m sorry.”
    “Adam, don’t be stupid we have no choice!” Adam didn’t reply. Fold could see that the Guardian was preparing to destroy them utterly and made his decision without any thought. He used his remaining energy to open a portal back to the Twilight, and dived through, the portal snapping closed seconds before a magical whirlwind of fire enveloped their end of the hall. Fold turned onto his back and stared at the red sky, the twilight glinting on his tears.
    “I had no choice,” he whispered, “I had no choice.”