Haul’s ship landed at the bay of Hill Land Point. Haul walked to the deck of the ship, grabbed his barbute, placed it on his head, dismounted, and stepped onto the southern beaches of Hill Land Point.

  Haul saw no men nearby. As he continued walking, he made it to one of the many roads on Hill Land Point. In the distance, horses could be heard along with voices of laughter. Haul hid in the tall grass nearby. He waited for them to pass, but as they rode in front of him, he saw their sigil. It was the same as the one Julius bore on his armor. So Haul watched them as they passed, knowing they could lead him to House Crucivar.

  When they were far enough away, Haul stepped out of the tall grass and followed close behind until they arrived at the gates of House Crucivar. Haul moved to the left of the gate near an alleyway, where he crept through the city, not wanting to draw unwanted attention.

  As Haul was creeping through the city, a child sat on a wooden crate. The young boy saw Haul and shouted, “Why are you creeping through the city?”

  Haul looked at the child. “I’m not. You’re seeing things.”

  Haul walked toward the child. “You need to be quiet.”

  The child laughed. “Why is that?”

  Haul looked at him firmly. “Mind your business. Just be quiet.”

  The boy’s face turned sour. “You’re not here to kill them, are you?”

  Haul looked at the child, confused. “What did you say?”

  The child’s face was plain, his emotions unreadable. “You’re not the bad man, are you? The one from the Middle Island?”

  Haul remained confused. “Middle Island? What are you on about? You mean Ashvire?”

  The child’s eyes, once blue and full of life, turned red and hollow. The boy stood up and began to scream, “It’s him! The one they call the Destroyer!”

  Haul tried to cover the boy’s mouth, but it was for naught. The people of the city came out of their houses, their skin gray and their eyes red. They all pointed at Haul and shouted, “Destroyer!”

  Haul looked around in terror. “Eamon they call demon… and me they call the Destroyer?”

  He could feel something dark had risen in this city. The people continued shouting as Haul walked past the boy, but he was quickly interrupted. The crowd began to move toward him as they chanted.

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  Haul stepped backward toward the alley entrance, but as he retreated, they followed. He turned and ran out of the alleyway, only to find another group standing before him with the same gray skin and red eyes. They all pointed at him and shouted, “Kill!”

  Haul’s eyes widened with horror. “They chant kill, but I do not wish to kill these people. I have no quarrel with them. I am here for the people in that castle.”

  His eyes lifted to the castle. It was pitch black. As his gaze wandered upward, he saw something of true horror.

  A giant eye.

  It was the eye from the sigil, hovering above the castle. Blood poured from the lateral and medial canthus. The sclera was a burning sunset orange, the iris a deep ruby red.

  Haul froze. Only his thoughts could move.

  “Is that a giant eye looking at me? How can this be? And the gaze… it’s cold.”

  His eyes tried to look away but could not. He could hear the people approaching as they chanted, “Kill.”

  He tried to move but was paralyzed by fear. He felt their hands grab him and drag him to the cold ground, yet his gaze did not leave the eye until one of the citizens blocked his view. Only then could he move again.

  He tried to push them off, but their weight was too great. So Haul took a breath and cried out to God.

  “God, do not forsake me in this time of need. Come aid me and help me free these accursed people.”

  Moments later, a voice rang out.

  “My people, you have done the work of the Watcher’s Eye with grace and humility. I will take it from here.”

  One by one, the cursed people stepped off Haul. He lay on the ground and looked up at a man in robes, his hands hidden within his sleeves.

  “You come to destroy us, Haul Blackmoor.”

  Haul stared at the man. “What are you? Some holy man?”

  The man smiled. “To say yes would be correct. I am one of the thirteen disciples of the great Watcher’s Eye.”

  He pointed toward the eye above. “You have already laid eyes upon the Great Eye. You have seen it too, have you not? The Lord has shown you the future.”

  Haul shook his head. “I have seen it, and it is inhumane. It will kill over eighty percent of the population.”

  The disciple smiled calmly. “Kill? No, no. Not kill — free. We will show them true freedom. It is a mercy, not cruelty.”

  Haul’s voice hardened. “I will not let it come to pass as long as I stand.”

  He reached for his sword, but the moment his hand touched the hilt, his arm was severed clean from his shoulder.

  Haul looked at his fallen limb as blood poured from his body. He turned to the disciple in horror. “How?”

  The disciple laughed. “It was not I who took the arm of the Destroyer, but you — for defiance. Defiance of the Watcher’s Eye.”

  Haul staggered backward as the people laughed. The disciple stepped forward with a devilish smile.

  “The Watcher’s Eye knew you would come. The Watcher’s Eye foretold your demise.”

  Haul turned to run but fell immediately. He looked behind him.

  His left leg was gone.

  He screamed. “How is this possible? Why don’t I hear it?”

  The disciple smiled. “You are the white lamb to bring forth the end.”

  Haul tried to crawl away, but the disciple raised his voice.

  “Followers of the great Watcher’s Eye, lord of the world, bringer of freedom, the one who ends all — take heed! This white lamb, whom the Lord has brought before us — take him to the sacrificial sanction, for the dawn of the end is upon us!”

  The people grabbed Haul as he struggled. “Get off of me!” he shouted, but it was useless.

  He was dragged away to the altar, to become the lamb for the end.