The sun had risen nearly two hours ago, but there was no sun to be seen, only a pale light that filtered through large gray clouds. He peered into the bleak landscape long covered by thick layers of snow as winter's hand fell upon the northern most part of Ruanol. His breathing was labored and the icy air made his throat burn sharply. The wind picked up, throwing back his thick fur coat, penetrating his thin, worn clothing to pierce his bare flesh like tiny knives. The Sisear Waste was certainly no place for the faint of heart.  The squeaky crunch of boots on snow behind made him turn around. Orsas and Edati were leaning heavily on their sticks, taking deep, slow breaths. He could see the other four, like small black lumps, further back in what he was sure was a bent over position. He could only imagine what they were feeling. None of them were young men, but he along with Orsas and Edati, at least had grown up in northern nations where it snowed for many months during the year. Working and playing in it was nothing unusual for them. However, the others had come from many nations in the southern lands where snow did not exist. If Ridrif had been having a hard time, the others were certainly nearer to breaking down completely.
"I do not think they will hold on much longer," Orsas's deep voice came, sounding a touch concerned.
"I would have to agree. We are certainly not the young bulls we once were," Edati agreed, making it sound a simple fact.
Ridrif studied both men's faces. Orsas was not a very tall man, but what he lacked in height he made up for in presence. His face was mostly hidden by a thick graying beard, but his eyes showed him for a proud and noble man. He stood upright, even with blistered feet and a cut up face, as if he was standing in front of a throne. His almost intimidating visage only spoiled by his wide smile and easy laugh. He was a gentle man, but a strong leader none the less.
Edati was easily the complete opposite. He was the tallest of anyone there with light skin the color of parchment. His eyes were a deep black which contrasted greatly with wisps of fiery red hair. A scar turned the right corner of his mouth in a permanent frown. He had the humor of a wooden post, but he was a fierce warrior and a respected man in his tribe.
He could hear some of the other's ragged breaths as they drew closer. Every man here was from a different nation. There was the brave Mercus from Brelen, the fire-willed Neficus from Cymic, the sly Derianus from Heolt, and the gentle Aletas from Taih Vyre. Each man as varied and different as trees in a forest. There were many things, in days long past, that would mark each man here enemy to one another. Yet it was one thing that had set them on a long journey into this barren land where if Draerics didn't kill you, the cold surely would.
Ridrif nodded shortly and turned to again study the horizon. The temperature here was freezing year round, allowing no vegetation except a few clumps of some brush to grow. It was safe to assume that the very tiny dots on the distance were not trees. He could feel the gash on his chest from their last encounter with the Draerics. Ruthless and vile creatures they were, with an insatiable desire to kill. They may have escaped them once, but in doing so they had only prolonged the fight. If anything, it only made them more angry and more eager to hunt them down and kill them. He frowned thoughtfully.
"The question is, how far away is far enough," he spoke to the empty land in front of him. Neficus's voice, interrupted by his ragged breathing, answered.
"We wouldn't have had this problem if we would have killed them to begin with," he was sitting down nearly completely hunched over. All the others had caught up by now. Derianus sat like Neficus, but Aletas and Mercus layed sprawled out upon the snow. Anytime and place else, Ridrif would have thought the sight quite funny, but instead it just made his frown deepen.
"You know just as well as I do that would have only drawn more attention to us," Derianus said, in a somewhat more composed voice.
"It wouldn't matter so long as they were dead. Even if one managed to escape and gather others, it would still take them time to follow after us," Neficus snapped back.
"I would have to agree with the Heoltian on this one," Mercus spoke, sitting up. Mercus and Derianus's countries were neighbors, but they had warred with one another long before anyone could remember. Agreement between the two showed just how tired both must be.
"So we sit back and wait for them to catch up? I don't know whether you've noticed, but our pace slows with each passing minute. They will be upon us before nightfall. How do you expect to escape from them this time? Ask them to leave us be? Or maybe you'd rather throw snow at them?"
"That's enough, Neficus," Orsas interjected and everyone looked at him. Neficus clamped his mouth, but not before putting on a scowl foul enough to make leaves curl.
"But he is right, Ridrif," Aletas's timid voice rasped. He still had not sat up, but lay flat upon the ground, staring up at the blank sky. Aletas had taken traveling the hardest. He was already a frail and thin man when they started out, but now he was nothing more than a stick. His narrow face had deep dips that pronounced his bones so much he appeared to be a walking skeleton. "We can't continue on for much longer. If we do not do something soon to stop them advancing, we are done."
"And," Edati began, "we cannot both fight them off and have the power to complete the seal. By now he surely knows we are up to something, if not quite what, and he will send a full legion after us if only to be rid of the nuisance."
The wind began to stir again, making a howling sound that roared in his ears. He remembered the first time he ever met these men as they gathered together on that dark day, when they fought together not against nightmarish creatures, but against people like them, people who could use Erilia. The difference being that these people were no longer human, but twisted beings that had lost all sense of themselves. He remembered looking his brother in the eye as he ran his sword through his chest.
"Here then," he spoke louder, "we will finish it here." No one moved for a moment. They had all known what doing a seal entailed, however, it was quite another thing to actually do it. The silence stretched on for what seemed hours, in reality only minutes. Mercus was the first to stand. He shuffled towards Aletas and began to help him up. The others began to move as well. All taking off their packs and stripping off their heavy outer coats.
He did the same, putting his pack down and taking off his thick fur coat. When he turned around everyone was standing erect and in a circle. He walked between Edati and Orsas, they nodded solemnly at him, taking his place in the middle. It was strange to see all of these faces before him. Each man, even the greatly weakened Aletas, had not the slightest look of fear about him. Instead, a grim determination seemed to shine through those aged and wrinkled faces. He wondered if his face reflected theirs. He could only hope to have half the courage of these men.
Ridrif closed his eyes, thinking once again of the past. He remembered when being an Erilian was a death sentence. He remembered going into hiding for years, until one day when he met Marla. She had saved him not just from others, but from himself. He started life anew with her by his side and together they had three children. He remembered such happy days before the Draerics returned. Before he had come like a whirl wind in the night, one who could control the Draerics, a walking darkness and a plague upon the land.
"May Feraiel's mercy guide you and His hand protect you, my old friends," he began.
"To the end of days and the last of light," Mercus continued.
"To the place that knows no darkness," Aletas's voice said strongly.
"To lead us home within the heavens," ended Neficus.
"Let it be so," came Orsas, Derianus, and Edati in unison.
He began to speak the words that would seal the darkness away while calling upon the power of Erilia. He could hear the others chanting with him. He began to think upon his beautiful Marla. His fourth child should have been born by now. He wondered if it was a boy or a girl. He wondered if it would take after him or Marla. He wished he could have been there to see it take its first breath. He knew he would never be there to hold his child in his arms and say how much he loved him or her. The tear rolling down his cheek froze and then all thought was gone.