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    Nathan awoke with a start, frightening the small beast that was sitting no more than a foot away from him.  The animal took off at a run, sprinting across the vast plains.  Nathan hadn't even been able to tell what it was.  Or rather, what it was like.  His first, and only, impression had been of a bear cub, but such an animal wouldn't have been stupid enough to wander out of the Habitable Zone.
    Look who's talking he thought to himself.  Carefully, in case the parent of the animal decided to pay a visit, he packed up his meager ownings and began the trek southward once more.
    He saw nothing.  There was the road he walked on, which extended as far as he could see, and there was the wasteland around him.  If he looked behind him - something he tried not to do too often, it tended to bring memories of home - he could see the forests and, behind them, the mountains.  Looking ahead, there was nothing.  The sun hung in midair on his left, radiating a welcome warmth.  At least it wasn't cloudy anymore.  As he walked, he tried to concentrate.  On anything.  Anything at all.  Except for home.  He couldn't quite seem to manage it.  At first, he had been glad to leave, but it seemed that the further away he went, the more it loomed in his mind.  Even the specter of the spire ahead wasn't enough to totally engage his thinking.
    But he tried.  The Spire.  Now that was something to think about.  Nobody knew much about it, but they all knew the legends.  To avoid thinking about home, he thought instead about what the scholars had told him about his goal.
    "The Spire, you see, is a very elusive prize.  There comes a time, once per thousand years, that the power of the Spire begins to fade, and with it the life of the land.  It is in this time that a pilgrimage must be undertaken....  Only faith can restore the Spire.  You must ask the Creators that dwell within to restore the essence to this world."
    That, of course, made no sense.  The Creators were, after all, all-powerful.  They could end the blight anytime that they felt like it.  He had told this particular scholar that, as a matter of fact.
    "Yes, of course!  Never doubt the power of the creators.  But you see, what they have in power, they lack in focus.  They constantly wage the war against the Furies, and we become far from their minds.  So we must tell them that we are still here, and still require their help."
    Nathan didn't find the explanation particularly satisfying, but there didn't seem to be much of a choice.  After all, if the Creators hadn't made his world, who had?  Even the Ancient Council, the ones that built the Spire on behalf of the creators, had not been powerful enough to build worlds.  So there were creators.  And there were those that worshipped the creators.  And there were the scholars, like the ones he had spoken with, who merely 'studied' the creators.  Then there were those who followed the Gods, but everyone knew that the Gods were made by the Creators when the Creators decided they didn't have enough time on their hands to deal with people.  Of course, there was the last group... very few in number - nobody knew exactly how few - and very great in power - those who knew how great were most likely dead - who worshipped the Furies.  The very thought chilled Michael to the core.  That someone would willingly give up their soul to a being bent on the destruction of the only life left was completely alien to him.  It was then that a rather unpleasant thought occurred to him.
    If, every thousand years or so, a person (or people, the scholars hadn't been too clear on that point) went on a pilgrimage to the Spire to save their world, was it not also possible, that a follower of the furies might also be sent on a mission... to stop that person?
    Michael tried to shake the thought away.  He could handle a sword, after all.  Agents of the Furies, though powerful, were still mortal.  He'd put up a good fight, that was for sure!
    The only problem was that he didn't have a sword.
    "This must be a true pilgrimage that you undertake.  The creators are very clear on this - you must carry no weapon.  You may bring no food or water - you are required to find those for yourself."
    The only thing even resembling a weapon that he had used was the traps he created to catch food for himself.  The water hadn't been an issue - in the Habitable Zone, you're never far from a lake or stream.  Except now he thought that water could become an issue.  And food.  And the lack of a weapon.
    The trip was going to kill him, and he'd hardly begun it yet.
    He covered a decent amount of territory that day before deciding to fall asleep.  He had been more than willing to go on for another few miles before falling asleep, but something had happened to change his mind.
    He had another seizure.  At first it had started, as it always had, with the sound of the ocean.  He had only actually been to the ocean once, but the sound always began before the episodes.  He had a few moments of conscious thought to try to fight it - he was never successful, but he tried - and then he would black out.
    Sometimes he saw things.  His memory was faded nearly to nothing when he came to, but sometimes he would remember what he saw.
    This time, he saw his homeland surrounded by the blight, and his brother Donovan holding the corpse of Whitney in his arms.
    It wasn't the kind of image one forgot.
    He had only been out for a few minutes, he judged, but he decided that he would stop for the day.  With that decision, he hastily made camp and went to sleep.

    (Tallows Castle)

    "Have you heard?"  Craig asked him eagerly, looking around.
    "Heard what?"  Nathan replied, a bit irritably.  More than a day had gone by since Whitney's arrival, and he hadn't seen her since.  That, and Donovan's constant gloating of his upcoming marriage - it hadn't been formally decided, but it was as good as done - had contributed to his ill mood.  Still, he should try to be a little nicer to his friend.
    "Your kingdom and Tyrwood are becoming one!" Craig said, trying not to be as enthusiastic as he had been previously, and failing.
    Nathan nodded.  "Yes, I know.  It was as much as guaranteed.  But it's not going to solve the problem."
    "What, you mean the blight?  Well, of course that's not going to fix it, but it'll help a lot of people ride it out?"
    "There's not going to be any 'riding out'.  The blight isn't going away!"  Nathan snapped.
    Craig gave him a wary look.  "Are you okay Nathan?  I... I'm sorry, I guess I came at a bad time.  Look, I'll stop by sometime later and tell you the other news."
    "Wait."  Nathan spoke up.  "No, it's I who should be sorry.  I just... have a lot on my mind at the moment.  What is this other news?"
    "Well," Craig continued "it seems as though you're not the only one who thinks this blight of ours isn't coming to an end.  Your father just announced that half of the kingdom's riches will go to the man who finds a cure to the plague!"
    That was a surprise to Nathan.  His father had mentioned nothing like that.  "What?  That's dire news indeed...."
    Craig nodded.  "I'll have to agree with you there.  If it makes you feel any better, I'm with the people who think that the whole thing is going to end, and soon!  After all, we've had blights before."
    "Yes, we have."  Nathan thought on the book he had read.  If it was correct, all the past blights, up until about a century ago, had been the same blight, coming and going but always getting stronger.  This time, he feared, the death of his land was here to stay.
    "Anyway, I should let you go.  I have to go back and attend to Sir Landon.  He believes me gone for food."  Craig smirked.  "The life of a squire, my friend, is much fun.  If you prefer running errands to actual swordplay, that is."  With that, Craig walked down the hallway and was gone.
    Nathan stood where he was for a moment, trying to puzzle out the reason for his father's actions.  Finally, he decided to talk to the man himself.
    King Tallows' room, when he wasn't in his throne room, was located behind an unremarkable door of the west wing of the castle.  Nathan was one of the few people who knew about the very existence of this room, let alone its location.  The king's 'public' bedroom was adjacent to the throne room.  Just one example of the security that the castle was bristling with, especially with the stay of dignitaries.
    Nathan located the room easily, trained from years and years of navigating the castle.  He knocked softly and heard his father call out.
    "Come in,"
    Nathan opened the door and stepped into his father's room.  It was not quite what one expected of a king - Nathan thought it smaller than his own room, and much less decorated, but that didn't really matter to him.  He spotted his father standing at one side of the room, looking out a window.
    "Ah, Nathan, it is you!"  he said, after glancing in Nathan's direction.  Nathan closed the door gently behind him.  "What brings you here today?"
    "Father..." Nathan began, a trifle uncertainly.  He had always had trouble talking to his father, for some reason.  "father, I have heard of your decision today."
    "You mean that to merge the kingdoms of Tallows and Tyrwood?  I told you of that before, it should not have come as a surprise."  The king regarded Nathan curiously, although he knew what the child would say next.
    "No... I meant your decision to give away half of the kingdom's riches to whoever stops the blight.  Father it... it seems a desperate measure."
    King Tallows nodded.  "And it is.  My son, I have something to tell you.  This kingdom was hit just as hard by the blight as any other.  Our food stores were given out to those who had no food in our kingdom.  I have always been prepared for this kind of emergency.  There have been blights in the past, and this one promises to be as bad as any.  I have no troubles feeding my people.  But I cannot feed the people of Tyrwood."
    Nathan seemed confused.  "But father, why did you join the kingdoms together?"
    Tallows sighed.  "The history of the kingdoms of Tyrwood and Tallows extends to before the historians kept their records.  I cannot ignore such history.  More, during the recent barbarian raids, it was Tyrwood's army  that enabled us to fend them off.  Also, Tyrwood holds more than two times the people that live within my kingdom.  And I cannot allow those people to starve."
    "Father... I do not believe this blight is coming to an end." Nathan said.  His view was not in favor, mainly because it robbed people of their hope that things could get better.
    Surprisingly, the king nodded.  "I know what you believe, Nathan.  I have read the tome that you now busy yourself in.  I cannot ignore the patterns either.  There is a blight upon us, and a blight that will not end.  I will not tell my people this, because I do not want them to despair."  He paused.  "There is a way to save them!"  he spoke this with force, as though by his will alone he could force a solution into being.  None presented itself immediately.
    Tallows sighed, his energy seeming spent.  "But even my offer may not help.  Riches only bring one so far.  If this does not bring a solution quickly, then I will offer the only thing I have left.
    "Nathan, to cure this blight, I will offer my kingdom."