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╣Folco╟

He had released the news to the camp directly after the meeting. He knew that it was an unpopular decision, but his orders were followed through with anyway. Any warlocks under the age of fifteen he expressly forbade from coming with them. Fifteen and older, he allowed them to decide amongst their families. He did not shy away from warning them that this would be a brutal battle; if they did not want to risk their children's lives, he asked them to leave them behind to take care of the youngsters throughout the camp. 

He knew that many of his people were angry that he had led them into a battle against a Wayfarer in his first week of leading them, but they did not all understand that it would have happened anyway. Dael would never have left all of the warlocks alone; at some point, his plans would have involved people other than himself and Mae. At some point, he would have grown bored and would have searched for more power to satiate his greed. Folco knew that when that time came, warlocks would be the first race he confronted, and whenever that happened, Dael would be nothing but stronger.

Folco could not just tell the people the main reason that he needed to face the Wayfarer now. They would not take kindly to the fact that he was willing to sacrifice all of them in this battle if that was what it took, as long as Mae came back into his arms. Of course he would rather not lose a single warlock in the effort, as he was enjoying his new role as leader and really felt like he could shape their race for the better if he was given more time, but he would still choose Mae over anything else. It felt as natural as choosing his own life as opposed to a stranger's, and the warlock side of him had always made him selfish.

The majority of the camp had dispersed in groups, transporting from the camp to the outskirts of Swynborough. Folco went after most of the camp was emptied out, Hune gripping his arm to assist him in the form of magical travel. Upon landing, the first thing he noticed was that none of the warlocks had gotten into the formations he had previously explained; all of them were huddled together on top of the hill, staring with wide black eyes towards the city.

Folco had prepared to yell at them when Hune had tugged his arm and pointed towards what everyone was looking at. Folco felt as if a weight had taken up residence in his stomach when he looked at the storm in the distance, a curse sent from Mother Nature herself. He spit in the snowy grass beside him and glared at the blizzard that acted as a veil, hiding Swynborough from his view. Surely this could not just be coincidence. This was magic, and of a powerful sort.

The first thought that had popped into his head was that Dael must already have made it there.

"Everybody get some rest!" he commanded at the top of his voice. People quickly began spreading his words throughout the entirety of the large group. He had not counted, but he thought that at least five hundred had followed him here. Two-to-three hundred were back at the camp, roughly. It was small for an entire population, but then again, warlocks were picked off by other races whenever possible. Humans considered the study and use of black magic a crime punishable by death, so if a warlock was ever unfortunate enough to be tricked by a human, they were doomed. Other supernatural races did not care that they were warlocks so much as that they were prey; magical creatures were testy and combative types, usually. They wanted to compete with other creatures that they came across, even if it might mean their deaths. Warlocks were more evolved than those races - creatures like ogres or gremlins - but they were still flawed. 

However, Folco knew that the warlocks of his camp were not the only ones in existence. Like he had told Mae, there were more being born and more binding the spirits to themselves in order to become magicians every day. It would take many lifetimes to track all of them down, but he was sure that their population was much more extensive than the amount he currently led.

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