Once more Zaccar stood on his own amongst the other groups that were awaiting on whatever it was that they needed to be able to go forth and slay the wretched beasts that plagued the lands and destroy the king amongst them. He stood in stoic silence his mind going in and out from the present and the odd dreams that began coming to him through the cold, long, lone nights. Imagines of snow and ruins clouded them, not the kingdom or Ural but somewhere else, a place that seemed familiar but was not. Along with the images came the same word that plagued him: crossbreed. What did it all mean? He sighed in frustration on not knowing what to figure out from the images and what they were trying to tell him.