The peace of the bright morning suddenly faded as the three stepped into the ancient circle of stones and was replaced with the dark loathing of the former land as it was under the rule of King Morpheus. The maidens grip on Galahads hand tightened with vise-like pain as the knight forced Galahad to his knees.

The ground erupted in a growth of metal tendrils that wound around the maiden and the knight. As they snaked over their bodies the cruel steel cut their skin, blood flowed from the cuts in horrible amounts. Finally the vines began to wind their way over Galahad. Galahad twisted out of the frozen grips of the two entwined companions.

Galahad backed away and the tendrils flowed and sprouted from all over the circle cutting off all exits. But the two he entered with were not crying out in pain, instead it sounded as though they were enjoying the hideous torture. Their screams were those of a couple in ecstasy, and the cries of bliss just increased as sprouts of metal emerged from their bodies with blooms of internal organs for precious buds. Galahad finally tore his gaze away from the tortured couple as they died in complete, joyous surrender.

Behind Galahad were the Wizard of Wood, Wizard of Metal and a shadowy third figure, all laughing at him. They mocked Galahad with the fact that he thought he could so easily defeat them, that now he would be truly done for. All the while the swiftly growing vines were forming into the shapes of metal warriors, each growing many swords as arms. Only now did Galahad realize that he was unarmored and weaponless.

The metal soldiers began to move in on Galahad and the two largest were in the shapes of the knight and the maiden that taken him to this place. The smell of blood was thick around him now, oddly focusing his attention, sharpening his wits to battle precision. He looked into the face of the dead maiden again and placed the visage, it was Ionia. He looked again upon the countenance of the knight, and he realized it was his own. This could not be. In a moment of confusion, the thorny knight that was him jabbed a steel spike under his ribs in a deadly thrust.

Galahad blinked and the circle was now nothing but mist, broken brambles, and the standing stones. He stood in the cold morning, dark clinging blades of grass adhering to his naked body, many cuts from the brambles trickling blood. On the center stone sat the shadowy figure.