Against one of the foothills of the great mountain range sprawls an enormous walled city. You stare in awe at its jumble of buildings, its winding streets, its towers and turrets, gambrels and chimneys, ramparts and spires. Once you would have been troubled by its claustrophobia, the darkness beneath the upper storeys of the buildings overhanging the cobbled streets. But no more. Now the streets are flooded with light, and a new mood of hope fights to establish itself; the Court of the Soaring Spirit has a new lord. You see his long dark hair and the note of irony in his dark eyes, but most of all you see the unfathomable sadness in his heart. Despite that, Mallory, Brother of Dragons, possessor of Llyrwyn, one of the Three Great Swords of Existence, projects only optimism, a necessary quality, for his city now lies on the brink of destruction.

The Palace of Glorious Light lives up to its name. Golden illumination shining from every window, it is a beacon that can be seen far and wide across the Far Lands, and it rings with beautiful music, earthly songs that Mallory has taught the strange band of musicians drawn to him from across the city. He hoped it would ease his emptiness. It has not. But all the other residents will never forget its joy.

Yet still it faces destruction.

At the heart of the palace is a formal garden, tranquil amongst its honey-scented alyssum, spicy lilies and sweet, strong jasmine, its sparkling fountain, its elegant statues and winding walkways. Amidst the fluttering butterflies and the lazy drone of bees, Caitlin Shepherd, Sister of Dragons, practises a relentless series of martial routines with her axe.

From the upper cloisters, Mallory watches her brown hair flying, her fragile features tense and determined. 'No peace,' he mutters. 'Ever.'

As if to underline his words, Decebalus, the Dacian barbarian, marches up. 'Another attack is imminent,' he growls. 'I have ordered the sounding of the alert.'