Dusk was gently falling as Marklus and Alaireia approached the massive building. It looked as if it had sprung unbidden from the forest, made of gray stone and covered in crawling dark ivy. The building was stoically silent, divulging no lights, no sounds, or guards, or anything at all that indicated life. Pinpricks of uncertainty began to grow inside of Marklus’ mind. Had he been gone too long? Had the Eka Fighting Camp been overrun and emptied out shortly after his imprisonment? He glanced apprehensively at Alaireia but no emotion displayed on her watchful face. She turned to follow his lead as they reached the three wide, rough steps leading to the doorway. Marklus walked up them alone and paused to listen, but the stone sealed out all noise from even his keen ears. Two imposing double doors stood at least...

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