The dolls stood for another moment, looked at each other, and turned to leave. Both took several steps toward the exit, then the little one stopped, turned, and ran back to get his fallen eye. The entire movement of the two dolls was followed by Klalech and his guards silently. The only sound was the dolls footsteps clacking against the polished stone floor.

Two guards waited outside to lead the dolls back to the transit arena, from where they both arrived in their current forms as projected avatar etherforms. From the arena, they would return to their true bodies on Earth.

Klalech turned to Savan after the doors were once again shut, and said, "Contact Horn. We may have a deal with him after all."

The words of Klalech echoed through the chamber, as if the name itself carried power. Savan nodded and moved quickly out of the throneroom. Klalech sat for another moment or two on the throne, and arose. A few tentative steps filled with thought. Klalech seemed to examine something below the surface of the floor, then raced out of the room.

Kole retracted his vision from this scene and turned his focus to Jhebon. "Who is Horn?" asked Kole. Jhebon paused. Kole could feel the strands of Gnosis reaching them. Here, directly linked inside of Jhebon's consciousness, Kole felt as if he could shift himself to peek around a corner to see the river of knowledge that is the Gnosis, complete, and understand everything that there was to understand. Jhebon gently nudged Kole away from that corner. "It isn't safe to look where you were tempted to look".

Kole receded away from Jhebon, a little angry and a little embarrassed. Jhebon continued, "Horn is a powerful Magan. He has contacted several Deonids over the past 375 years, and successfully bartered magas with them. Apparently, he has approached Klalech before, although I cannot access any specifics nor mention of that incident."

"How can that happen?" asked Kole. "I thought that Gnosis was made of all knowledge from every being in the macrocosm."

"Yes... this is... disturbing. Unprecidented. We must be careful when approaching the peripherea of Horn."

The desert was the dancing ground for dust devils. One batted around a bundle of twigs that it had collected throughout the day as it curled over pieces of newly found bones of some large creature. The bones clacked together and this amused the funnel of wind. It forgot about the twigs and played with the bones for a while.

In the distance, a caravan approached. Seven figures on Llama-like creatures, two more of the beasts pulled a cart that was steered by another figure seated on the cart. Flags bore the stylistic rendering of a dragon and sun. The caravan travelled northward. The figure in the front stopped and signalled the others to do the same. The figure's white hood flapped in the dry thin air as it paused to listen. Wet eyes glinted beneath the hood.

The other hooded figures looked ahead with anxiousness. Two of the beasts exchanged grunts of impatience.

The figure in front sat fixed on one particular rise in the terrain. A windswept dune with brush and dead wood... Something thick and heavy moved behind the dune.

The first figure turned to his travelmates and gestured for two of them to investigate what was behind the dune. The two urged their beasts on as they readied their spears, and they quickly rode closer to the area.

The two white hooded figures separated and rode to opposite ends of the dune. Simultaneously, they topped the dune and saw a band of 30 demons poised to ambush, directing them was a Chaotrine Warrior - the most horriffic demon-form in the Macrocosm - three beings that share one form - death incarnate.

The demons separated and charged at the two white-hooded scouts, who stood their ground until the last second then turned to head back to the caravan. The demons followed as fast as they could on foot. The two scouts reached the caravan and joined their companions who all had produced weapons and circled the cart in a defensive arc.

The demons reached the base of the dune and surrounded the hooded travellers. The driver of the cart was gone, and so was one of the other riders. The thirty demons were not concerned about the missing two, but more curious about what was in the cart. They laughed and made ready their weapons.

The Chaotrine Warrior casually approached the caravan leader. The black symbiotic armor covering the demon and its steed glittered in the direct sunlight. Curls of amber juices formed curdled patterns just under its shiny shell-skin. The steed snuffled and dug at the ground with its claws. The warrior atop the steed clicked its mandibles together a few times, then pushed a bladeclaw from its forearm. The cloaked travellers did not seem to be intimidated at all. They stood their ground.

Some clicks and whispers came from inside the cart. The Chaotrine Warrior gestured for some demons to investigate. Three stepped into the circle and approached the back of the cart. One of the demons scoffed, "Watch out, they might throw a robe at you." Laughter.

One of the demons pushed aside the cloth at the back of the cart. Inside they saw dark moving stalks. Armor and blades. Screams never left their mouths. Their heads fell to the ground. Silence ripped across the faces of the remaining demons. The cloaked figures used the moment to attack. The Chaotrine was surprised by this rash tactic - two of the cloaked figures found thin armor and plunged their blades deep. The Chaotrine spun its bladed arm around and cut one of its hooded attackers in half.

A dark insect emerged from the cart like a blur. Blades whistled through the air. Limbs and weapons were sheared apart as the stalk-legged black creature danced along the arc of demons. Wet noises seethed between the percussive beats of metal against metal and the sharp crunch of stalk-legs stabbing into the rocky soil. The hooded travellers dove to the ground as sprays of black formed a satin mist behind the staccato of bladed limbs.

The Chaotrine threw down the body of the other cloaked figure and held a paddle-shaped paw over the wound deep in its side. Black liquid crawled out from between its digits down its body to the thick dark sand below. The steed snuffed and growled, disturbed by the scent. The armored eyes of the rider lifted to examine the course of battle and met the face of the stalk-legged creature. Skeletal and plated with finely detailed metal decorated with characters from a language older than the Earth. Cold breath vented out of the creatures mouth and curled downward. The Chaotrine steed stepped backward.

The rider coughed and tried to raise the bladed arm. A fresh burst of liquid bubbled out from between plates of its organic armor.

"Shaddal Mus Parata Geb Nar!" yelled one of the hooded figures. A scroll of yellowed paper was delicately held in its hands. The stalked creature stepped away from the Chaotrine.

"Maatal dat hudarn chelobal."

The creature turned and glided past the lines of demon carcasses to the back of the cart. The cloaked figure holding the scroll did not look at it.

"Zhakka sesh goot lool."

The cart shook as the creature climbed back inside the creaky vehicle. Lit by the strobe of sunlight through wind-ruffled cloth, the creature pulled in its legs, and ritualistically folded itself into a rounded wedge. Two hooded figures followed it inside and covered it with a leather blanket.

The four remaining figures kept their distance from the wounded Chaotrine. The two who sacrificed themselves to kill the Chaotrine rider had known exactly where to aim their spears. Normally, the symbiotic armor would be able to heal any wound in time, but the spears severed the rider's spine, which was the primary pathway between the three beings. The rider was almost immediately disconnected from the union and had become an intruding parasite within the symbiosis. Quickly, the symbiotic union would dissolve, and the armor and the beast would search for a replacement rider. The figures stood and watched with their weapons at half-readiness, the beast sway and shudder. Ripples of color erupted within the plates of armor.