The swirling mist cascaded in luxurious swirls of dark grey and black, seeping toward the hooves of the intruder to The Guardian's gates. The mist continued to thicken until it concealed the intruder entirely, cocooning him in a vast thicket of suffocating air. It intensified, attempting to confuse the loner until through the darkness, a form of an equine appeared.

It was unusually large, too large for that matter. It seemed to glide toward the intruder in a dream-like fashion. It's cadence perfect. The equine was blacker than the night itself, or so we thought. For it never fully emerged from it's blanket of silver mist.

A most peculiar image occurred next however, for as the dark air swirled about the two equines forms, a dense forest of dark, eerie trees came into view, surrounding the duo on all sides. Directly behind The Guardian, however, two trees stood as tall at the ancient elms of the deciduous forests. Their giant trunks seemed to lean toward each other, their branches and leaves entwining, creating a daunting gateway in which The Guardian protected. He stood before them, blocking any chance of an entrance.

Just as the moment that fright would set into the soul of any creature began the voice of The Guardian hit the air like thunder.

"Who dares disturb my counsel?"

The Guardian's voice was deeper than any mortal being, stronger than any God, more powerful than any being alive or dead, and more haunting and ghost-like than any poltergeist could ever summon. It was so deep that it rang and bounced off the trunks of the surrounding trees, hanging in the air like a warning, a threat, sheer devotion to his role as The Guardian.

The Guardian seemed to waver in and out of focus in the dark swirling maze that was the mist. One minute his eerie silhouette was visible, the next, only a pair of glinting silver eyes sliced the air like a dagger. From what was shown of him, he did not appear angry or hateful in any way. More of he was making clear his warning, threatening the intruder that not all made it through his Gates. Did they die? Oh no, The Guardian will never come within close proximity of another living soul, if he is living at all. Perhaps he is the mirror image of what the mist sees. A mirage.

The mist began to spindle itself sturdily about the ankles of what The Guardian considered an intruder, as if threatening to hold him in place. Pronouncing its warning, the mist tightened and it was unnatural what Kellen would feel. For it would be as if an unknown force were squeezing his legs, warning him to stay where he was...or warning him of danger.

It was at that moment that the silhouette of The Guardian became faint and his voice seemed to echo from deep within, farther back, as if he was calling to him. It rung strangely.

"Why are you here?"

This was a classic question of The Guardian, thus I take pity upon you. Think closely before you answer now. Why would a powerful creature such as The Guardian ask why are you here? Not to hear that you have arrived to be placed in your future home. Perhaps we should rephrase his question: What do you believe in?