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╣Folco╟

"Get me out of these ropes!" Folco shouted at the guard. The man looked at him for just a moment, and in that time, his expression shifted from unyielding and superior to meek and nervous. Folco fought the urge to smile. The man had to make amends now that his leader was dead; and quickly, too, or he might never be allowed mercy. The acts that he and his fellow men committed in Kroma's name had left a mess in his wake, and he could be killed for them if Folco so desired.

"I'm sorry, Sir! Lord Kroma told us to do it, he told us that he would reward us, that our families would never want for anything!" the guard begged, staring into Folco's unforgiving eyes. "Sir, we have nothing against you, we never have, we just wanted to do what was best for our families, Sir, please understand!"

"Untie me. Now," he commanded through gritted teeth. He was not sure what he would eventually decide to do with the warlocks that betrayed him, but he did not have time to think through their punishments right now.

Kroma was dead, actually dead, after Folco had watched him get killed in a dream. Surely that could not just be coincidence. Perhaps he was scared to death in his sleep. Or maybe the nightmare just tipped him over the edge; he could have been so close to death already that his mind shut down after being infused with such horrible thoughts.

Folco was grasping at straws and he knew it, but he was just hoping that one of the straws would be the one to tell him what was actually going on.

After all, it had been Mae. Mae was the one in that dream; it might have been fuzzy, but he would recognize her anywhere. She had Dreamfared to Kroma's subconscious, she had destroyed him thoroughly and brutally, and he had no idea why. Was she truly so merciless that she had done it without a second thought after he had plotted to trade her to Dael? Or had something more happened inside of Kroma's tent that Folco was still unaware of?

The guard hesitated a second, no doubt trying to determine his best option at the moment. Of course he would have to free Folco if he wanted any chance of remaining alive, but there was no way for the man to be sure that Folco would not kill him the instant the ropes came off anyway. 

He ended up making the right choice. The guard knelt down and said a word under his breath, his right hand hovering over Folco's bindings. A brightness crept through them, swirling around and around him as it encompassed the entirety of the rope. A moment later, he heard a snap, and the bindings went limp against his body.

Folco wormed his way free of the now-useless pile of ropes and got to his feet. He thought about striking down the guard - it would be all too easy to knock him out - but he decided it would not serve much of a purpose at the moment. However, if he was disobeyed or betrayed again, he would not show such mercy.

Instead of knocking the man out, Folco grabbed his collar and shoved him up against one of the tent poles. He knew his face was contorted with fury, and fear was embedded in his gut - fear that he knew would not fade until he spoke with Mae once more. 

"You will follow me," ordered Folco, his eyes narrowed as he analyzed the apprehensive face of the guard. "You will do everything I tell you to do, and if you so much as hesitate or bat an eyelash before doing so, I will kill your entire family, personally, and I will let you live with the memory of their deaths. Am I understood?"

Of course, the guard nodded and gave a brief, "Yes, Sir."

Folco did not release him. "What is your name?" he asked.

The man swallowed hard. "Rudy, Sir," he replied. His eyes darted down to Folco's face, then zoomed back up to look above him, past the top of his head. 

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