Dontarius opened his tired eyes. The light from the morning sun was sifted through the thick leaves. In front of him stood rows of thick trees most bound with a thick rope-like material. Dontarius was tied tightly to a tree. The material wound around his waist and chest. Beside him was a winged man. A tall thin-faced man with large wings bound by the same material.
“What is going on?” Dontarius’s voice was raspy, he cleared it. “What did you and your people do?”
“You will thank us,” the winged man replied.
“I’m not very thankful right now.”
Behind both men something shuffled quickly followed by a quiet chant. Dontarius stiffened and pushed against the tree. He attempted to make himself small which was impossible. Within moments smaller men marched past the trees. The smaller men marched in 6 columns all perfectly measured and stepping in time. After 5 rows of men they turned right and unbound several bound persons. They helped them down slowly. Covered their heads briskly and turned back toward Dontarius. The small men marched forward. They wore a covered hood which buried their faces. “They are the mirror-keepers.” Said the winged man. “I don’t know much else about them. I, along with the other Eros kind, tend to stay within the mountains.”
The noise from the winged man prompted several of the mirror-keepers to look up. Their faces were black, frightening. Their small eyes pale and hung above the nose. Dontarius froze and stared forward. He wished the small men away but they marched slowly away from the trees.