My heart wrenches as the small skeletal birds flood the room, the sea of animals flowing over my comrades and confiscating Amber's staff and Ryan's wand. The throne at my back rocks violently as the birds at my rear fight to enter the throne room.

Straight-backed and standing with their stubby wings hanging loosely at their sides, the undead illusionary birds begin to gather up my friends and carry them out of the room. Though most of the creatures are completely skeletal, one of the abominations has eyes, this one watches me closely and refrains from the labor.

“Move away from the throne.” The bird commands, his voice rattling like his bones.

I do is it says and the chair slides across the floor, scraping sharply every step of the way. More skeletal birds emerge. These rush in to assist the others.

“Why haven't you killed me?” I ask calmly. Fear no longer fills me, even as I look at these creatures, but it is replaced with emptiness. My spirit fell with my friends, even if my body did not. Being alive is a worse punishment than death.

“I have a message.” The bird tells me. “Fight and you will die. You are no longer welcome in this land. The scepter has been given to my master. Out of the kindness of his heart, you are to be banished. Return and my master will personally kill you all.”

“My friends?” I ask, seeing a glimmer of hope in the eyes of this walking corpse.

“They wait for you below.” The bird leaves the room and returns to where my brother and its master are. Three of the undead stand on each side of me, waiting for me to move. Finally I concede and walk to the under works of the castle where Amber, Stuart, Chris and Ryan are lying on the backs of three giant turtles.

With my friends already defeated, and the stranger's mercy already used once, I know that my efforts against these creatures will only end in failure. I have to yield the castle to the man.

Finding my place on the lead turtle with Chris I quickly check the young man's lifebeat to make sure the bird was correct. He has a pulse. The wounds he had received have swollen, but there seems to be no real harm done to him. I look at the others, their chests moving slowly up and down. Relieved, but in pain, I signal the turtles to leave the under works of the castle the same way that I have seen Stuart and his turtle riders do. My undead escort returns to the main level of the castle.

I rip a piece of paper from my book as we clear the secret entrance. Pulling out a pen, and blowing into my repostem, I quickly begin to write:

Kevin,

The stranger has taken the castle and has summoned an army of flightless birds to aid him. Take fishing boats, turtles, anything you can and evacuate the country to Zibwee. Those who cannot retreat need to find places to hide. We will return, Kevin, don't lose hope.

The owl lands on my shoulder as I finish writing. My flesh is torn open again and blood drips out onto the paper as I roll it up. “Take this to Kevin.” I order the bird. Hesitantly, the owl looks back at Yadout and then to me. “When he has it, return to me. I'm not leaving you here.” My owl hops into the air and takes the message from me and heads for the Main Island.

Reaching back I pull Chris' pouches off of him and begin sorting through them. Three maps, one of Yadout, one to Zibwee, and -the most recent edition- one to Xtand. I can only hope that I have as much luck finding this mystical land as they did.

I fear the ocean. The prospect of traveling on the ocean is dreadful to me. When I know where the ship is going it's not so bad, when someone else is guiding the ship it's better, but when I stare out over the empty slate, no landmarks insight and only my intuition and skill to guide me, doubt creeps in.

Though they worshiped the ocean, my time in the temple proved to do more harm for my fear than good. I only remember two of the professors from the temple's school, the writing professor and the navigation professor.

The navigation professor was large and loud. I didn't like him. In his class he would ask impromptu questions regarding the material. He often asked me because I often got them wrong and that gave him the opportunity to slap me on the back of the hand with his wooden stick.

The fact that I was primarily a servant and not a student gave the navigation professor a reason to abuse me, but the writing professor saw it as an opportunity to show me compassion. He often told me that anything written from the heart is never wrong, at worst it's dishonest. I ended up getting extra chores done during the navigation class to make sure I was free for the one on writing.

I often wonder how different my life would have been if the roles had been reversed. As it stands I'm happy with where I am; and my experiences in the temple, both good and the bad, define who I am today.

Time passes at a snail's pace and it's mid-evening before the others start waking up. With them come a wave of questions. Ryan is the first to wake, low-evening Chris comes to followed soon by Amber and finally Stuart at the first watch.

Ryan admitted that Zibwee would offer little help in the matter. Anything that was known about the artifact Ryan had already gathered and no one in Zibwee could use magic. It would be a few harvests before he could create enough wands to even consider raising a force to try and retake the castle and even then only if he had a constant flow of supplies and all went well in their construction.

Chris spits bitterly about being too stunned to move when he had first seen the corpses and vows his revenge on them when he has a chance to return. After nightfall he adjusts the direction the turtles are taking and then remains silent for the rest of the evening.

Amber delivers a steady flow of questions regarding whether I had seen their leader, how many of the creatures had I seen, what was being done with Tom and how her people could ever trust her again. I had no answers for her.

Stuart, when he came to, spoke hurriedly to us about the Caverns of Uncachunca. He declared them separate from Xtand, a series of tunnels underneath the land that Chris and him had stumbled upon when trying to uncover the size of the land. If there's more magic in that land he insists that it will be in those caverns where he had found the amulet.

We all agreed that the caverns were to be explored first and if nothing is found there that could aid us in our quest to free Yadout, then we must proceed to the forest in Xtand. Though many small disgusting creatures tend to live in tunnels, large and dangerous ones tend to find their dwelling on the surface.

That night was the coldest, quietest night I have ever experienced. The waves were the only thing keeping us company. The whispering wind was the only voice we heard.

No one spoke through the darkness that reflected the evil that had overtaken Yadout. The sky offers little light with the moon nowhere to be seen and the stars, though many, burning as though it was simply what they had to do and didn't do it of their own will. The night was too dark for me to read or write.

This morning I awoke at first light, confused and cold; the confusion was easy to overcome, the cold was not. One of my feet had been dragging through the water ever since I fell asleep. Coughing, I sit up and drag my soaked foot onto the back of the turtle.

I bring my knees to my chest and sit until Chris wakes up at dawn. The young man glances around before lying back down, retreating to his world of dreams again.

Dragging my book out I begin to write the events of the previous night.

Chris soon surrenders the thought of returning to sleep as sound of the Admiral's loud snoring too much to overcome in his state. Chris quietly curses and pulls the map to Xtand out of his pouches.

“It's going to be a hot day.” Chris says blandly, my pen scratching furiously over the paper. “No water, no food, no land. It's going to be a long day too.”

I nod. “A beautiful day.” I admit, not taking my eyes off of the paper. “Under different circumstance.” Chris grunts in acknowledgment.

Amber suddenly shouts and jumps up, nearly falling off her turtle in the process and waking Stuart and Ryan. Stuart bolts up straight and looks around. Ryan jumps to his feet and pulls his dagger from his belt, the priests head making sharp turns to try and find the mysterious danger.

“What is it?” Chris demands.

“He had his arm around me!” Amber huffs, pointing down at the old man.

“What?” Stuart demands. The old man's brow wrinkles and his eyes jump in understanding. “By the four. I fell asleep!” The Admiral says in disgust. “It was a joke, I thought she'd wake up last night but I fell asleep like that.” He says in a consolidating tone.

Chris and I break down laughing at the thought. “I want a new turtle partner!” Amber protests.

“Amber,” I say through my laughter, “it's nothing, you know him, you know how he is. Stuart's like a big little kid.” Stuart starts laughing too.

Finally, this is what we need. An opportunity to unwind, a chance to laugh again, some time to forget about the horrible things that have happened and...

“Hey.” Ryan says quietly. “Hey, hey! Hey!” The priest shouts pointing his dagger to the north.

We all turn to see coming into view a thin line of green across the horizon. There we saw it for the first time. Chris nods his head. “That's it.” He says sullenly.

The island must be larger than Yadout, Zibwee and Wuwon combined. It stretches out further the closer we get, covering the horizon with a green shroud.

“The Isle of Xtand.” Chris continues. “Looks like we made it.”

My heart wrenches as the small skeletal birds flood the room, the sea of animals flowing over my comrades and confiscating Amber's staff and Ryan's wand. The throne at my back rocks violently as the birds at my rear fight to enter the throne room.

Straight-backed and standing with their stubby wings hanging loosely at their sides, the undead illusionary birds begin to gather up my friends and carry them out of the room. Though most of the creatures are completely skeletal, one of the abominations has eyes, this one watches me closely and refrains from the labor.

“Move away from the throne.” The bird commands, his voice rattling like his bones.

I do is it says and the chair slides across the floor, scraping sharply every step of the way. More skeletal birds emerge. These rush in to assist the others.

“Why haven't you killed me?” I ask calmly. Fear no longer fills me, even as I look at these creatures, but it is replaced with emptiness. My spirit fell with my friends, even if my body did not. Being alive is a worse punishment than death.

“I have a message.” The bird tells me. “Fight and you will die. You are no longer welcome in this land. The scepter has been given to my master. Out of the kindness of his heart, you are to be banished. Return and my master will personally kill you all.”

“My friends?” I ask, seeing a glimmer of hope in the eyes of this walking corpse.

“They wait for you below.” The bird leaves the room and returns to where my brother and its master are. Three of the undead stand on each side of me, waiting for me to move. Finally I concede and walk to the under works of the castle where Amber, Stuart, Chris and Ryan are lying on the backs of three giant turtles.

With my friends already defeated, and the stranger's mercy already used once, I know that my efforts against these creatures will only end in failure. I have to yield the castle to the man.

Finding my place on the lead turtle with Chris I quickly check the young man's lifebeat to make sure the bird was correct. He has a pulse. The wounds he had received have swollen, but there seems to be no real harm done to him. I look at the others, their chests moving slowly up and down. Relieved, but in pain, I signal the turtles to leave the under works of the castle the same way that I have seen Stuart and his turtle riders do. My undead escort returns to the main level of the castle.

I rip a piece of paper from my book as we clear the secret entrance. Pulling out a pen, and blowing into my repostem, I quickly begin to write:

Kevin,

The stranger has taken the castle and has summoned an army of flightless birds to aid him. Take fishing boats, turtles, anything you can and evacuate the country to Zibwee. Those who cannot retreat need to find places to hide. We will return, Kevin, don't lose hope.

The owl lands on my shoulder as I finish writing. My flesh is torn open again and blood drips out onto the paper as I roll it up. “Take this to Kevin.” I order the bird. Hesitantly, the owl looks back at Yadout and then to me. “When he has it, return to me. I'm not leaving you here.” My owl hops into the air and takes the message from me and heads for the Main Island.

Reaching back I pull Chris' pouches off of him and begin sorting through them. Three maps, one of Yadout, one to Zibwee, and -the most recent edition- one to Xtand. I can only hope that I have as much luck finding this mystical land as they did.

I fear the ocean. The prospect of traveling on the ocean is dreadful to me. When I know where the ship is going it's not so bad, when someone else is guiding the ship it's better, but when I stare out over the empty slate, no landmarks insight and only my intuition and skill to guide me, doubt creeps in.

Though they worshiped the ocean, my time in the temple proved to do more harm for my fear than good. I only remember two of the professors from the temple's school, the writing professor and the navigation professor.

The navigation professor was large and loud. I didn't like him. In his class he would ask impromptu questions regarding the material. He often asked me because I often got them wrong and that gave him the opportunity to slap me on the back of the hand with his wooden stick.

The fact that I was primarily a servant and not a student gave the navigation professor a reason to abuse me, but the writing professor saw it as an opportunity to show me compassion. He often told me that anything written from the heart is never wrong, at worst it's dishonest. I ended up getting extra chores done during the navigation class to make sure I was free for the one on writing.

I often wonder how different my life would have been if the roles had been reversed. As it stands I'm happy with where I am; and my experiences in the temple, both good and the bad, define who I am today.

Time passes at a snail's pace and it's mid-evening before the others start waking up. With them come a wave of questions. Ryan is the first to wake, low-evening Chris comes to followed soon by Amber and finally Stuart at the first watch.

Ryan admitted that Zibwee would offer little help in the matter. Anything that was known about the artifact Ryan had already gathered and no one in Zibwee could use magic. It would be a few harvests before he could create enough wands to even consider raising a force to try and retake the castle and even then only if he had a constant flow of supplies and all went well in their construction.

Chris spits bitterly about being too stunned to move when he had first seen the corpses and vows his revenge on them when he has a chance to return. After nightfall he adjusts the direction the turtles are taking and then remains silent for the rest of the evening.

Amber delivers a steady flow of questions regarding whether I had seen their leader, how many of the creatures had I seen, what was being done with Tom and how her people could ever trust her again. I had no answers for her.

Stuart, when he came to, spoke hurriedly to us about the Caverns of Uncachunca. He declared them separate from Xtand, a series of tunnels underneath the land that Chris and him had stumbled upon when trying to uncover the size of the land. If there's more magic in that land he insists that it will be in those caverns where he had found the amulet.

We all agreed that the caverns were to be explored first and if nothing is found there that could aid us in our quest to free Yadout, then we must proceed to the forest in Xtand. Though many small disgusting creatures tend to live in tunnels, large and dangerous ones tend to find their dwelling on the surface.

That night was the coldest, quietest night I have ever experienced. The waves were the only thing keeping us company. The whispering wind was the only voice we heard.

No one spoke through the darkness that reflected the evil that had overtaken Yadout. The sky offers little light with the moon nowhere to be seen and the stars, though many, burning as though it was simply what they had to do and didn't do it of their own will. The night was too dark for me to read or write.

This morning I awoke at first light, confused and cold; the confusion was easy to overcome, the cold was not. One of my feet had been dragging through the water ever since I fell asleep. Coughing, I sit up and drag my soaked foot onto the back of the turtle.

I bring my knees to my chest and sit until Chris wakes up at dawn. The young man glances around before lying back down, retreating to his world of dreams again.

Dragging my book out I begin to write the events of the previous night.

Chris soon surrenders the thought of returning to sleep as sound of the Admiral's loud snoring too much to overcome in his state. Chris quietly curses and pulls the map to Xtand out of his pouches.

“It's going to be a hot day.” Chris says blandly, my pen scratching furiously over the paper. “No water, no food, no land. It's going to be a long day too.”

I nod. “A beautiful day.” I admit, not taking my eyes off of the paper. “Under different circumstance.” Chris grunts in acknowledgment.

Amber suddenly shouts and jumps up, nearly falling off her turtle in the process and waking Stuart and Ryan. Stuart bolts up straight and looks around. Ryan jumps to his feet and pulls his dagger from his belt, the priests head making sharp turns to try and find the mysterious danger.

“What is it?” Chris demands.

“He had his arm around me!” Amber huffs, pointing down at the old man.

“What?” Stuart demands. The old man's brow wrinkles and his eyes jump in understanding. “By the four. I fell asleep!” The Admiral says in disgust. “It was a joke, I thought she'd wake up last night but I fell asleep like that.” He says in a consolidating tone.

Chris and I break down laughing at the thought. “I want a new turtle partner!” Amber protests.

“Amber,” I say through my laughter, “it's nothing, you know him, you know how he is. Stuart's like a big little kid.” Stuart starts laughing too.

Finally, this is what we need. An opportunity to unwind, a chance to laugh again, some time to forget about the horrible things that have happened and...

“Hey.” Ryan says quietly. “Hey, hey! Hey!” The priest shouts pointing his dagger to the north.

We all turn to see coming into view a thin line of green across the horizon. There we saw it for the first time. Chris nods his head. “That's it.” He says sullenly.

The island must be larger than Yadout, Zibwee and Wuwon combined. It stretches out further the closer we get, covering the horizon with a green shroud.

“The Isle of Xtand.” Chris continues. “Looks like we made it.”