[Fidelis Meridius]

From atop his winged-steed, Fidelis observed the magical forest from upon high. His eyes studied the magical lights that escaped the trees occasionally. He had see some of Aelryia's magical glades before, but Silrosia seemed to dwarf them all; not only in size, but in wonder. He was trully amazed by the elves. Their ability to thrive in such a place was a testament to their kind.

As Blackwind cut further accross the sky, further and further into the western horizon, the Jorelite found himself above the Imperial Stockade. Never before did he have a reason to visit such a city, and upon first sight he wished he had done so sooner. He smirked to himself as he watched the guardsmen light torch after torch. In days past he may have taken their lives out of spite for his enemies, but the absence of hate left the men of the empire forgotten... for now.

As the darkening air whipped tresses of hair about, the Dark Knight gave a squinted gaze into blackness before him. This was no doubt his destination. It was a forest born of evil... not made. Every inch of it, all the way to the roots, was created of darkness.

As they approached, Fidelis could immediately feel the sense of change wash over him, and Blackwind was a bit more obvious in displaying it as he flew on nervously. The forest was hostile even to him, a man of Jorel. As he leaned over the side of the saddle to get a good look below, the voice in his head hit him like a punch to the face. "Wha... Who are you?" It was not the first time the Wolf of Jorel had his mind invaded by the presence of another. Therefore he had become accustomed to not overreacting. But this time was different. As the voice resounded his name over and over, the Master Swordsman could feel his mind loosing control as he slipped from reality.

Any feeble attempt he made at preventing himself from falling from his mount was futile. As his mind finally slipped from conciousness his body went limp. It was similar to the kinda limpness that being impaled by a spear brought on. Suddenly, with an akward slump, the human slipped from the saddle and began to tumble in a uncontrolled mess of limps, hair, and cloak as he fell towards the Blackbarch... and a likely death.

Then it was over... or was it? Heavy eye-lids flickered as the same voice aroused his senses once more. "What the feth?" Fidelis tried to put the pieces together as he tired to make out his surroundings. Slowly his vision came into focus, and he found his cloak in tatters, but aside from a lot of scratches, his leather armor was undamaged. Finally in the few moments of confusion came a real voice... A woman. She had a demeanor very similar to the human, but there was an extra wisdom there that would probably be due to the fact that she was much older than the Jorelite. In all her darkness, the woman still seemed to caring a strange beauty about herself.

"I could have hoped for a different welcoming..." The swordman spoke half-jokingly for a moment, but then he was straight to the point. "Where exactly are we, and his my Pegasus alright..." Fidelis paused for a moment. "I take it that there is no need for me to introduce myself... But I am Fidelis Meridius..." That was all he gave her, but more so with the intention of discovering her identity.