"That's strange. I wonder what could be going on." Vangelos said to himself as he eyed the caravan of heavily armored vehicles and smoke rising in the distance. Vangelos was isolated, or rather ostracized from the outside world. Secluded in the comfort of the cottage by the sea he had hardly any interaction with life in the city or beyond. The only knowledge he obtained was from books and what Adriel would mention to him after he arrived back from his travels.<br/>"The smoke...it seems to be coming from the...direction of the cottage!"<br/><br/>Vangelos raced through the dunes and turned west. The wind rolled Vangelos' cloak like a black wave. Seagulls glided overhead. Up above Vangelos noticed the sky beginning to darken and the gentle lapping of the waves hitting the beach had now turned to a violent thrashing. Vangelos ran faster, unsure of what he would see on the horizon. When the first board appeared half-burried in a dune, Vangelos seemed unconcerned, but his expression blackened when he saw the next. They multiplied, warped splinters embedded in the shore, shards of broken glass and bits of crockery, then bricks and chunks of mortar. Shingles curled everywhere like sea creatures plucked from their shells.<br/><br/>As Vangelos struggled up a particularly steep dune, his foot hit something solid. He tripped, pitching forward on the sand. As he got up he looked back where he had fallen. a film of sand covered a strange silver shape. Vangelos wiped away the sand, revealing a medal of an eight-pointed star. It was identical to the one ornamented on his door, a near mirror image of the medallion he wore around his neck.<br/><br/>A shadow flitted across his face. "It can't be..." He threw back his cloak and raced to the top of his dune. He stood there and looked down the slope in silence.<br/><br/>The ruined corpse of a cottage smoked at the edge of the dune, as desolate as the charred ground surrounding its skeletal foundation. The stone foundation smoldered, enclosing room-sized cavities. Broken glass sparkled angrily. At the center was a carcass--hardly recognizable--impaled on a stake.<br/><br/>"A-Adriel..." was the only word Vangelos could muster before falling to his knees and weeping.