Dawn has come, but it is not a dawn that is a fresh begining. This new day is filled with rage and fury. The crowd of the Dark Acolytes gather in a large half circle around a little protrusion in the land jutting out into the water. On the miniature peninsula are two wooden posts held together in the center by large nails. It is a big 'X,' much of which has its bottom half burried in the sand. Of to the left side of the posts is a tall podium. From the tops of the posts hang a heavy chain, reaching halfway to the ground. At the end of each chain is some sort of jagged wire, and it looks painful. This excites the followers of Wyndisis. Screams and roars of anger, a dark emotion twisted into ones of happiness and pleasure are held behind the floodgates of their mouths.

The fire to the east rises. The sun they see is not the golden orb that it once appeared to them. They see it as red. It is like the deep lava pit of eternity, and the sky around them is hell. Their hatred for the people who are going to be executed burns to such an extent that it can barely be supressed.

This execution is going to be different than several of the other ones they attended; for many of them, it will be the first one that would have Wyndisis, not Mokern Igorius, as the head of the ordeal.

From the east comes Wyndisis, the burning hellfire behind him. The crowd remains silent, repressed. It isn't until he climbs the six steps of the podium and gives a simple, 'How'd ya do?' wave that they all start cheering out, the whole crowd of them, "Hail Wyndisis, Commander of Evil!"

As they are cheer him, Wyndisis gestures to someone among the crowd, a stern Mokern Igorius, the tall Hylian with dark hair and dark brown eyes that are almost black. Mokern gives a cut like a director of an orchestra and the crowd falls silent.

Moments pass as they all wait, intent to hear the words of Wyndisis. They wait to see their enemies suffer. And so Wyndisis says, "Here we gather today, to fulfill our duty, to let the souls of those who have acted against us know," he pauses, and the Acolytes breathe his words in like refined air, fresh and without impurities. "To let them know that we are here for a reason, that we have duties to fulfill, and they will not, will not stand in our way." The crowd goes wild. "The Disciples of Torment bring the convicted forward," he says after Mokern gives them another cut, "You must wait and be a witness of their punishment."

There they stand and wait. It is a couple minutes and they can hear the footsteps stamping through the sand behind them, and the sounds of worn men gasping. They turn around to the three men garbed in black, who escorted the three convicted ones, and the kindling bursts into unceasing flames. Cries fly from their mouths without much thought. "Kill 'em! Kill 'em! Kill 'em!" They say.

The men had been marched across the desert without being allowed to touch a drop of water. Further more, they were beaten along the way. Wounds that would never leave covered their bodies. They were so close to death, yet it is so far away that it appears it will never come. They would never reach it.

They are forced through the crowd of fiery people who hold out cups and canteens of water, taunting them. Some of them splashed them, the warm water felt nothing like refreshing, and screamed and spat in their faces. All lot of them spoke mockingly with phrases such as, 'You look so tired; you deserve a drink.'

When they finally get up front, Wyndisis says to them, "Take them up on their offers. I will let you drink all the water you want, there is plenty here." They turn their roasted faces towards him, the burning pain of their skin screaming out, and look at him dully. "All you need to do is bow down before me, and promise me you will never do what you did again. Declare me as your ruler."

Their heads sank. They gave their silent refusal. Somewhere within the Acolytes they feel bad, for they lost a possible addition to their small society. Their main demeanor at this point was pure joy. Wide grins spread across faces.

"And so we shall proceed," Wyndisis says. Mokern hands Wyndisis a scroll that he held. Raising his voice, he reads, "Attention future citizens of the Reborn Society of Nardora. We have traveled the long hard roads of the desert to erase the souls of a few threats to our future as the new founders of the Shadowland. In this case, the deviants are punished for supporting a religion and carrying out acts that could be harmful for our continuance. They also spoke a forbidden language with their tongues. For these crimes they will bleed."

The crowd cries out, with only a few 'Kill 'em's distinguishable. Wyndisis shuts them up and calls out, "Take it, Cavlin."

Cavlin Kreias steps forward and points to the men dressed in black. The Disciples respond to his command by giving the men a solid pound on the back, knocking them to the ground. They then lift them up by the legs and stick their feet through the loops of barbed wire and tighten the loop around their ankles. For the middle man they tied his ankles to the posts themselves in the center of the X, with a hefty amount of barbed wire of course. Blood flows down their legs in steady streams.

"They will now lose the tongues with which they committed crimes," Wyndisis says.

The man on the left says, "You can do that, Wyndisis, but you can't stop us from destroying you, not when we grow more powerful in the afterlife."

"Are you so sure, Mr. Bagin?" replies Wyndisis.

The Disciples of Tourment yank out the tongues offered to them with hands wearing leather gloves. With a sharp dagger, they each slide the blade through the tongues.

Any and all thoughts of them being threats to Wyndisis and the Acolytes in the future are extinguished. They are now reduced to wounded animals caught in a trap. They thrash and try to kick their way out, but the barbed wire hurts them all the more. It tears into their legs until much more blood streams down their legs.

They hollor out indistinguishable babble and their mouths bubble with blood that fills them. So much flows down their face that it looks like someone took a big paintbrush and painted crimson from mouth to forehead. Their cries I high pitched and wavering.

After an hour or two, no one knows how long, for time was not important enough to pay attention to, after time, all three are dead. No one had drawn their eyes from them. The crowd lets out a tired, but enthusiastic round of applause. Wyndisis stands on his podium with a big white grin on his face.

Julian hears the loud roar of a croud. His eyes glance toward the front of the immense army of warriors and spots a zora. "This must be the infamous Wyndisis. Now that I know my competition let me see if I can gain his trust." Julian thinks to himself. He begins to walk through the crowd. The zoras figure becoming more detailed as he traverses the large army of disciples. His eyes catch a strange image in the corner of his eye. He squints at the three figures. "Hmph, fools. They couldn't take Wyndisis down could they? Mabe they found a weakness." Julian thinks to himself. He finally reaches the front of the audience. He stares at Wyndisis with cold, black eyes. "Wyndisis, I would like to join you and your disciples in ridding whatever these people have done. I would like to gain your strengh and join you with full alegiance." Julian says with a smirk tainted with malice. His voice cutting through the roar of the crowd like a knife.

Leon was watching from a good distance,being out of sight.He stares at Julian,the wounded hostages,the band of bloodthirsty maniacs and Wyndisis,the enemy his mentor vowed to hunt down and then give the head to the King.He shakes his head,and sadly says to himself,"I knew there was something fishy about that Zora,".

His partner,Dart,still concealed in Leon's bag,said,"Now there's two enemies to watch out for.But I doubt Julian wants to act as a pawn,a servant in the game for global domination.And I doubt we'll want to see Nardora coming out.".

Denning wraped in a black cloak, stands near the back of the crowd. he watches the , wishing he could do something. But he is too weak.
"What did they do? Is this what Marin was talking about? Are those men in, er were they in a group who rebeled against Wyndisis? Well, im glad I came to see Malciore today, wher is he?"
At that Denning quietly leaves.

Out of the middle of the goup, one unknown to most in this land stood. He watched, followed along with everything the Acolytes said and did. He looked around admiring this place. Oh, how much it was like Parapa, and how good it was to get out of there for once. Not having to use the Exiles as cover.

He wore black robes, that went down to a mere inch above the ground, and a deep red headband. Around his waist was a sash tied as to hold a pouch in place. But that couldn't draw away from his left leg. It had taken serious injuries a year prior and never fully recovered. One thing that also caught your eye was just how dark brown his skin was.

It contrasted heavily with his frame though, as he stood a good two feet below the others there. His muscular goron frame was surprising for one of his size, though he did look slightly out of shape.

He watched as the tongues were slit from their mouths with not a flinch, maybe even a smile, and gleefully witnessed the blood drain, slowly weakening the prisoners to the inevitable death. 'Wyndisis always had a masterful way of killing people' he thought. But it surprised him Wyndisis did it. That was usually something he passed off.

He stood there unmoving for the whole ceremony. Eyes locked on the targets, he looked totally relaxed, so calm. Never once did his breathing falter or his body twitch. At the end he saw the Zora approach Wyndisis with something about serving him. There were none better than Wyndisis at gaining recruits.

"Julian, I knew you would come to me." And I know you plan to betray me. "Full alligiance is what it is going to take, nothing less. Without devoting yourself fully to me you will not achieve the power you seek. Now, bow down, pledge yourself to the cause of the Dark Acolytes."

Wyndisis turns his eyes and sees a Goron standing in the crowd. He hardly recognizes him, but he gets the feeling he knows him. Shiva?

"Its this easy, I'm surprised that such a maniacle zora would allow someone in there army so easily," Julian thought to himself. He neals on one knea. "I pledge full allegiance to you Wyndisis," Julian said aloud. "Wyndisis, do I not need to prove my allegiance to you?" Julain says as he stands erect.

"I can see into you well enough to know of your allegiance."

"I do not feel that you trust me Wyndisis. Even though I know not to question you, you must ask of me to do something as to prove my allegiance," Julian declares to Wyndisis.

'The royalty must know of this,"Leon thought.He glared at the farway crowd,and roared,"Julian,you traitor!You were as good as that evil guy who was an ex-comrade to that guy in the REF!The Royalty shall know!"and rushed off.

Alpha's crimson eye was all that could be seen of him in the shadows of the palm trees. 'This doesn't sound good. And Julian is joining them?...heh. Yeah, right. Only a fool would be unable to see through that facade.' He felt like he was going collapse, and pulled his hood farther around his face, further shielding the bright blue aura of his scar from sight.

Catching Wyndisis' black eyes for a short while, the Goron decides to go over there. Slowly, he makes his way through the crowd, and as he gets closer Wyndisis would have been able to better recognize him. Finally, he breaks through the last layer of people, and reaches Wyndisis.

"Hey Wyndisis. I didn't know you were in these lands still. I see you're still getting new recruits as easy as ever."

His voice is deep and steady, it boomed out loudly. He gives a look at Julian, thinking there must be more from these adventurers. There was more people at this ceremony than he'd seen at any other.

"Nice job earlier, good- entertaining way to kill them."

He didn't know why they died, but he knew they deserved it. He felt glad, so he ventured a smile.

"Still working on Nardora?"

This Zora was going to be a problem. He knew that he was not being sincire, but something struck him in a way it often did; he didn't give a damn. As long as Julian remained falsely loyal to him, he could lure the unsuspecting Zora into a trap.

When the Goron he recognized as Shiva came up to him, he sensed something he hadn't before in his voice: admiration. It was either his preceptions weren't as strong the last time he was around Shiva, or Shiva had changed. It was good whichever it was. To shoo Julian away he puts on a false mask of sincerity and says, "I trust you with my life, Julian. Now go.

"Shiva. It has been some time, hasn't it? So, what was this one compared to Vidunu's?"

Julian stares at Wyndisis in disbelief. "How could he just let me join without any thing in return. I don't trust this zora. It was much to easy to gain acceptance." Julian thought to himself. He then smiles. " Fine then master. I shall go and continue to serve you." Julian turns around and manuevers through the croud. His foot steps marked in the sand. "Your time will come Wyndisis." rings through the mind of Julian as he vanishes in the croud of apostles.

"Yes, definitely too long."

He pauses, remembering back to the death of Vidunu. He had thought it brutal at the time, but this eclipsed it easily. His eyes stay locked on Wyndisis the whole time.

"This was better. Though now I am more partial to things like that, so that could have caused it. I'm sure these three deserved the violent treatment."

He confirms with a wide smile, before asking:

"Why do people even waste their time resisting you? It is inevitable that you will succeed."