The sound of metal clinking together was all the could be heard, that and the footsteps of the Qisepienya who were on patrol. A strong wind blew from the east, and the sound of fabric a wind was heard as well but faded as the wind died down. A low hum could be heard during the still night as the sealing magic of the gate pulsed.

Qoreizjaia, stood tall and proud. The dull red doors were shut tight as the tri-circle magical seal glowed dimly in the murky black night. As the night progressed on, the low hum and metal made a sound; a typical night on patrol.

A hooded figure stood in the distance, watching the gate with a hardened gaze and clenched fists. It’s raspy, low chuckle could be heard on the wind, loud enough to alert the guards who stood watch. The guards looked around curiously, one tightened his grip on his spear as the rest moved closer to the gate. Prepared to defend it should the intruder make himself known.

The figure watched in amusement, as these underlings became skittish at the mere sound of a chuckle. Raising a cloaked arm a shadow passed over the figure and towards the guards; it’s wings beating rhythmically. Turning his back to the scene, the figure began to leave the gate; a loud screech echoing into the night.

“Is there a problem?” came a soft melodic voice, the person in question closed his eyes and shook his head, “I’m not sure...a shadow has appeared...” he replied, eyes closed as he faced the open window, facing the night sky.