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Description
Prologue: The wind spirit

A fog hung over the ground like a moss to a tree; so thick one could almost touch it, making visibility next to none. The twilight light that filtered through the fog caressed the landscape; blanketing itself around every tree, every rock and puddle of water, filling it with an eerie, luminescent blue glow. Far off in the distance, a figure sat on a horse. He was waiting for something. The forest behind him lay quiet. Only the occasional gust of wind broke the silence. He squinted his eyes desperately trying to find some way to see through, but had no success. He heard a rustling in the upper branches in the forest near him. The trees croaked and moaned as they bent against an invisible force.
The wind.
A gush of wind blasted through the forest swirling into the fog around him, bringing with it leaves and smaller twigs that broke off from the trees. The wind pierced through the man’s armor like a thousand arrows, and whipped fiercely across his face. He brought up his hands to shield himself which managed to successfully deflect the twigs and branches, but left his hands throbbing from the cold. He rubbed his hands together trying to maintain feeling as he looked back out into the fog, cursing and thanking the wind for its harshness; hoping that the wind could somehow lift the fog and allow him to see what lay beyond.
Then, seemingly out of the air itself, a high pitched whistle became audible. Perhaps this was the gust he had been waiting for. The branches and trunks began to moan once again, but the stress on a particular tree was too much. A mighty tree towering at around 50 feet snapped in half and came crashing down. A ploom of dust and dirt was thrust into the air which slowly returned to the earth. The man turned his head in the direction of where he had heard the tree fall, and was enveloped in a vortex of wind. He brought his hands up once again to shield himself but was surprised when the wind, instead of penetrating through him, began to spiral around, never actually touching him. He lowered his hands. The man thought he heard a voice coming out from the wind.  “Arasha” the wind seemed to be saying; “Arasha Kedgjuin”
The man certain that he was in the presence of a spirit called out. “Spirit of the wind, I beseech you-” but before he could finish the air seemed to be pulled out of his lungs leaving him breathless and unable to speak. The swirling wind began to congeal into a shape in front of him. At first it looked like a transparent cloud but soon distinguishable features began to emerge that the man could recognize; small feet, lean, angular legs, long wispy hair, thin boney arms, and a face with deep soulful eyes that stared directly at the man, unblinking. It was the shape of a human woman, but still looked like the fog around him. It was a wind spirit. The spirit woman waved her hand in a circular motion in front of her and a warm invigorating blanket of air blanketed itself around the man and his horse.  The man tried to speak to the spirit once again, but it felt as if a weight was compressing his chest. Now becoming increasingly unsure about the spirits intentions, he placed his hand on his sword which was sheathed on his right hip.
The spirit shook her head and waved her hand once again, this time relieving the man’s breathing as well as creating a small, hovering, blue light. The light started off small but grew rapidly, seeming to almost feed on the fog around it. Upon reaching a certain size the sphere floated towards the man. He looked into it and to his amazement saw, from the view of an eagle, the surroundings around him. He was on a ridge before a valley. Trees grew intermittently throughout the ridges on both sides of the valley as well as in the heart of the valley itself. As the man sat on his horse attempting to remember every detail of what he was seeing, all of a sudden, when the sphere began to show the man the details of the other ridge, a face seemingly made of flame, darkness made itself visible through the orb. Then, suddenly, the orb color changed from a white and blue to a deep pulsing red. A glowing kanji was carved itself onto the orb. The kanji finished and the stone pulsed for a last time, then it turned to stone, stopped hovering, and collided with the ground all at once. It was like the magic of the stone had been drained out of it. The man looked up at the spirit and saw fear in her unblinking eyes, but before he could ask her what had just happened her figure disappeared and the swirl of wind began heading back towards the forest. A few minutes passed with absolutely no breeze.
A pair of footsteps approached from the forest behind the ridge. The man looked back and saw a shadow emerging through the fog. The figure moved closer and spoke. “My lord, I suggest we stop the march. It’s too hard to see anything in this fog.
“The spirit of the wind is no longer with us” the lord said aloud obviously unaware of what his subordinate had said.
“My lord?” The figure asked, puzzled.
“Quiet!” He snapped back, in a half whisper. He gazed out intently into the fog, searching.
“Is something wrong my lord?” He also looked into the fog attempting to see what his lord was looking for.
The lord looked at the man aside him. “I am unsure.” He paused a moment in thought, “Okogui!”
“Ye-yes my lord?” Okogui stuttered.
“Tell your men to be on the lookout. And we need to have more soldiers reinforcing our rear. We continue marching. We need to reach the castle soon or all will be lost.”
“Does my lord suspect an ambush?”
“Anything is possible; I have seen something that unsettles even me.”
“What have you seen? Okogui asked in earnest.
The lord got off his horse and picked up the stone the wind spirit had created. “I know not how to put it to words but I can say that we are not safe here.” He put the spherical stone into a pouch onto his horse, and then remounted himself. “We must reinforce the rear.”
“At once my lord.” Okogui put his right hand to his left shoulder and bowed as he walked away.
The feudal lord sat once more pondering what he had just experienced, his generals orders constantly interjecting their way into his thinking. “OK! I want you, you, you, you, and you, move along the back. I want 10 archers also. Move some of the cavalry to the outsides. We don’t want them to get stuck if we get ambushed.”
The lord chuckled to himself as he pet his horse and then repositioned his armored shoulder plate, “You nervous too Keigo?” His horse looked back at him and neighed softly, “Thought not.”
Okogui jogged back to his Lord’s side. “It is as you wished my lord.”
“I thank you.”
Okogui looked out into the forested hills on the opposite side of the valley and pointed, “L-look my lord the fog lightens! Over there.”
“And there it redensifies” The feudal lord answered quickly, pointing to another section of the valley. “There is something about this fog that I do not like. It does not behave like fog should. Fog should be thickest at the bottom of valleys not at the top. In fact, the bottom of the valley is almost devoid of any fog. This is most odd indeed. It is almost as if the fog is being used to mask something.” The feudal lord then unclipped his helmet put it under his shoulder, and sat deep in thought.
Okogui also thought to himself, “Hmm.” There was a short pause, “My lord?”
The lord looked down towards Okogui. “Yes?”
“Could it be possible that someone or something could be to controlling the fog?”
“Yes, but only a sage highly gifted in the magical arts could pull off such a feat.”
“But for so long?”
“No not this long. No mortal could ever wield that much magical power. The only thing capable of doing that is a spirit.” He paused, finally putting his encounter with the spirit and the fog together; “Or a demon.” He finished.
“A-a demon?” Okogui replied, fear clearly prominent in his voice.
“Or it could be a sorcerer and a demon working together.
“A sorcerer and a demon?” he spoke, almost in disbelief.  “If the enemy truly has a wizard that powerful as well as a demon at their disposal, we must make with all haste to the castle.”
“No.”
“But my lord, if we do not get to the castle all will be lost! I beg you my lord, please reconsider your decision.”
The feudal lord smiled and then chuckled to himself. “I have a plan that will turn the ambushers into the ambushed.” The lord leaned down towards Okogui. “Listen closely as to what I am about to tell you. They are still under the impression that we are unaware of their magic. If we move 1 third of our army around the sides of the valley and encircle their camp we will force them to move into the valley into the remaining two thirds of our forces. They will never know what-”
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An elderly man opened his eyes. The entire tent, in which he was meditating, pulsed a deep, blood red glow as he blinked.  A group of generals wearing their full battle gear kneeled, forming an arc around the elderly man. Upon noticing that the elderly man had come out of his meditation a general in the middle of the arc spoke. This general was different than the others due to a pair of glowing red kanji on his biceps denoting the rank of First General. “What knowledge can you bless us with master?”
The elderly man with glowing, red eyes turned towards the voice and a two-toned voice responded, one like that of the old man’s, the other unnervingly inhuman. “You will speak when spoken to!”
“I am sorry master, I simply wanted to-”
The demon cut him off. “Silence you babbling mortal! You exist to serve me and carry out my wishes.” There was a brief pause as the demon inhaled wheezingly. Curse this feeble magician’s body. Once I find the child from the prophecy, I will absorb his life force and once again be able to reform the land as I see fit.” He inhaled a second time. “And subjugate all the people living out their meaningless lives in this world.” There was a third pause as he inhaled once again. This time it seemed as if the demon was pondering something. He raised his hand towards his first general and muttered something in an ancient tongue. The general began screaming and writhing on the ground as a death kanji was being magically carved into his forehead. The screaming stopped shortly after the symbol finished etching itself into the man’s head. He just lay there lifeless. “Apology accepted.” The demon blinked and turned to another general who at receiving the demon’s gaze flinched back in fear. “You are now my first general.” He raised his hand and chanted once again in the ancient tongue. This time the symbol denoting first general disappeared from the lifeless body and etched itself onto the newly appointed first general. The general bowed his head back towards him. “The enemy has had help from a spirit of the wind. They have managed to see through my magic and are attempting to ambush us. But they have gravely miscalculated what they are attempting to ambush. We shall pull our forces further back into the forest behind the camp so that when they attempt ambush us we will rise forth from the forest and slaughter them. After exterminating their ambush force only two thirds of their army will be left, and upon seeing us, they will think their plan has succeeded.” The demon laughed a slow maniacal laugh. “Such a grave miscalculation, a pity that by the time they learn of their error it will be too late.” He surveyed his generals. “Go bring my plans to into fruition.” His generals bowed and exited the tent. He paused and smiled at his genius. “One can never expect to win against a demon.”

Description
Prologue: The wind spirit

A fog hung over the ground like a moss to a tree; so thick one could almost touch it, making visibility next to none. The twilight light that filtered through the fog caressed the landscape; blanketing itself around every tree, every rock and puddle of water, filling it with an eerie, luminescent blue glow. Far off in the distance, a figure sat on a horse. He was waiting for something. The forest behind him lay quiet. Only the occasional gust of wind broke the silence. He squinted his eyes desperately trying to find some way to see through, but had no success. He heard a rustling in the upper branches in the forest near him. The trees croaked and moaned as they bent against an invisible force.
The wind.
A gush of wind blasted through the forest swirling into the fog around him, bringing with it leaves and smaller twigs that broke off from the trees. The wind pierced through the man’s armor like a thousand arrows, and whipped fiercely across his face. He brought up his hands to shield himself which managed to successfully deflect the twigs and branches, but left his hands throbbing from the cold. He rubbed his hands together trying to maintain feeling as he looked back out into the fog, cursing and thanking the wind for its harshness; hoping that the wind could somehow lift the fog and allow him to see what lay beyond.
Then, seemingly out of the air itself, a high pitched whistle became audible. Perhaps this was the gust he had been waiting for. The branches and trunks began to moan once again, but the stress on a particular tree was too much. A mighty tree towering at around 50 feet snapped in half and came crashing down. A ploom of dust and dirt was thrust into the air which slowly returned to the earth. The man turned his head in the direction of where he had heard the tree fall, and was enveloped in a vortex of wind. He brought his hands up once again to shield himself but was surprised when the wind, instead of penetrating through him, began to spiral around, never actually touching him. He lowered his hands. The man thought he heard a voice coming out from the wind.  “Arasha” the wind seemed to be saying; “Arasha Kedgjuin”
The man certain that he was in the presence of a spirit called out. “Spirit of the wind, I beseech you-” but before he could finish the air seemed to be pulled out of his lungs leaving him breathless and unable to speak. The swirling wind began to congeal into a shape in front of him. At first it looked like a transparent cloud but soon distinguishable features began to emerge that the man could recognize; small feet, lean, angular legs, long wispy hair, thin boney arms, and a face with deep soulful eyes that stared directly at the man, unblinking. It was the shape of a human woman, but still looked like the fog around him. It was a wind spirit. The spirit woman waved her hand in a circular motion in front of her and a warm invigorating blanket of air blanketed itself around the man and his horse.  The man tried to speak to the spirit once again, but it felt as if a weight was compressing his chest. Now becoming increasingly unsure about the spirits intentions, he placed his hand on his sword which was sheathed on his right hip.
The spirit shook her head and waved her hand once again, this time relieving the man’s breathing as well as creating a small, hovering, blue light. The light started off small but grew rapidly, seeming to almost feed on the fog around it. Upon reaching a certain size the sphere floated towards the man. He looked into it and to his amazement saw, from the view of an eagle, the surroundings around him. He was on a ridge before a valley. Trees grew intermittently throughout the ridges on both sides of the valley as well as in the heart of the valley itself. As the man sat on his horse attempting to remember every detail of what he was seeing, all of a sudden, when the sphere began to show the man the details of the other ridge, a face seemingly made of flame, darkness made itself visible through the orb. Then, suddenly, the orb color changed from a white and blue to a deep pulsing red. A glowing kanji was carved itself onto the orb. The kanji finished and the stone pulsed for a last time, then it turned to stone, stopped hovering, and collided with the ground all at once. It was like the magic of the stone had been drained out of it. The man looked up at the spirit and saw fear in her unblinking eyes, but before he could ask her what had just happened her figure disappeared and the swirl of wind began heading back towards the forest. A few minutes passed with absolutely no breeze.
A pair of footsteps approached from the forest behind the ridge. The man looked back and saw a shadow emerging through the fog. The figure moved closer and spoke. “My lord, I suggest we stop the march. It’s too hard to see anything in this fog.
“The spirit of the wind is no longer with us” the lord said aloud obviously unaware of what his subordinate had said.
“My lord?” The figure asked, puzzled.
“Quiet!” He snapped back, in a half whisper. He gazed out intently into the fog, searching.
“Is something wrong my lord?” He also looked into the fog attempting to see what his lord was looking for.
The lord looked at the man aside him. “I am unsure.” He paused a moment in thought, “Okogui!”
“Ye-yes my lord?” Okogui stuttered.
“Tell your men to be on the lookout. And we need to have more soldiers reinforcing our rear. We continue marching. We need to reach the castle soon or all will be lost.”
“Does my lord suspect an ambush?”
“Anything is possible; I have seen something that unsettles even me.”
“What have you seen? Okogui asked in earnest.
The lord got off his horse and picked up the stone the wind spirit had created. “I know not how to put it to words but I can say that we are not safe here.” He put the spherical stone into a pouch onto his horse, and then remounted himself. “We must reinforce the rear.”
“At once my lord.” Okogui put his right hand to his left shoulder and bowed as he walked away.
The feudal lord sat once more pondering what he had just experienced, his generals orders constantly interjecting their way into his thinking. “OK! I want you, you, you, you, and you, move along the back. I want 10 archers also. Move some of the cavalry to the outsides. We don’t want them to get stuck if we get ambushed.”
The lord chuckled to himself as he pet his horse and then repositioned his armored shoulder plate, “You nervous too Keigo?” His horse looked back at him and neighed softly, “Thought not.”
Okogui jogged back to his Lord’s side. “It is as you wished my lord.”
“I thank you.”
Okogui looked out into the forested hills on the opposite side of the valley and pointed, “L-look my lord the fog lightens! Over there.”
“And there it redensifies” The feudal lord answered quickly, pointing to another section of the valley. “There is something about this fog that I do not like. It does not behave like fog should. Fog should be thickest at the bottom of valleys not at the top. In fact, the bottom of the valley is almost devoid of any fog. This is most odd indeed. It is almost as if the fog is being used to mask something.” The feudal lord then unclipped his helmet put it under his shoulder, and sat deep in thought.
Okogui also thought to himself, “Hmm.” There was a short pause, “My lord?”
The lord looked down towards Okogui. “Yes?”
“Could it be possible that someone or something could be to controlling the fog?”
“Yes, but only a sage highly gifted in the magical arts could pull off such a feat.”
“But for so long?”
“No not this long. No mortal could ever wield that much magical power. The only thing capable of doing that is a spirit.” He paused, finally putting his encounter with the spirit and the fog together; “Or a demon.” He finished.
“A-a demon?” Okogui replied, fear clearly prominent in his voice.
“Or it could be a sorcerer and a demon working together.
“A sorcerer and a demon?” he spoke, almost in disbelief.  “If the enemy truly has a wizard that powerful as well as a demon at their disposal, we must make with all haste to the castle.”
“No.”
“But my lord, if we do not get to the castle all will be lost! I beg you my lord, please reconsider your decision.”
The feudal lord smiled and then chuckled to himself. “I have a plan that will turn the ambushers into the ambushed.” The lord leaned down towards Okogui. “Listen closely as to what I am about to tell you. They are still under the impression that we are unaware of their magic. If we move 1 third of our army around the sides of the valley and encircle their camp we will force them to move into the valley into the remaining two thirds of our forces. They will never know what-”
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An elderly man opened his eyes. The entire tent, in which he was meditating, pulsed a deep, blood red glow as he blinked.  A group of generals wearing their full battle gear kneeled, forming an arc around the elderly man. Upon noticing that the elderly man had come out of his meditation a general in the middle of the arc spoke. This general was different than the others due to a pair of glowing red kanji on his biceps denoting the rank of First General. “What knowledge can you bless us with master?”
The elderly man with glowing, red eyes turned towards the voice and a two-toned voice responded, one like that of the old man’s, the other unnervingly inhuman. “You will speak when spoken to!”
“I am sorry master, I simply wanted to-”
The demon cut him off. “Silence you babbling mortal! You exist to serve me and carry out my wishes.” There was a brief pause as the demon inhaled wheezingly. Curse this feeble magician’s body. Once I find the child from the prophecy, I will absorb his life force and once again be able to reform the land as I see fit.” He inhaled a second time. “And subjugate all the people living out their meaningless lives in this world.” There was a third pause as he inhaled once again. This time it seemed as if the demon was pondering something. He raised his hand towards his first general and muttered something in an ancient tongue. The general began screaming and writhing on the ground as a death kanji was being magically carved into his forehead. The screaming stopped shortly after the symbol finished etching itself into the man’s head. He just lay there lifeless. “Apology accepted.” The demon blinked and turned to another general who at receiving the demon’s gaze flinched back in fear. “You are now my first general.” He raised his hand and chanted once again in the ancient tongue. This time the symbol denoting first general disappeared from the lifeless body and etched itself onto the newly appointed first general. The general bowed his head back towards him. “The enemy has had help from a spirit of the wind. They have managed to see through my magic and are attempting to ambush us. But they have gravely miscalculated what they are attempting to ambush. We shall pull our forces further back into the forest behind the camp so that when they attempt ambush us we will rise forth from the forest and slaughter them. After exterminating their ambush force only two thirds of their army will be left, and upon seeing us, they will think their plan has succeeded.” The demon laughed a slow maniacal laugh. “Such a grave miscalculation, a pity that by the time they learn of their error it will be too late.” He surveyed his generals. “Go bring my plans to into fruition.” His generals bowed and exited the tent. He paused and smiled at his genius. “One can never expect to win against a demon.”