...came the shadows. Staggered, quick abominations, they were the stuff of nightmares. For the thousandth time, the boy used a precious breath to curse the mages who'd unleashed them, having no idea of the danger they'd pose to everyone - but especially to him. Being guardian of the light was a difficult position at the best of times, simply because of the pressure and the trials, but he'd been born into it, and it would stay with him his whole life until it was his turn, then, to pass it to his own heir. If he didn't die where he lay, that is.

As the shadows grew around him, he...