A torrent of flame raced through the cold Minecraftian night sky. The source of the flame was a warlock. He watched the fire slice through the dark like a sword through butter. He watched it as it sped towards its target; a pair of royal scouts, riding through a distant land, much too far away for a normal being to even see the pair. This was a difficult spell even for someone as powerful as him, but his angry fueled the flame better than oil. He smiled cruelly as the white fire gained on the horsemen. 
     "What is that, John?" The scout named Patrick shouted to the one named John. John looked up, alarmed, "I don't know, but it doesn't look good! We must hurry!" Both of their minds were racing faster than the comet soaring towards them, almost upon them. 
      The woman looked back and saw a bright light. Under the light she saw two men riding towards her quickly. "That doesn't look good," she muttered to her horse. She had made it to a large forrest, here she may be able to hide.
      The prince saw two unsettling things. First, the ball of fire coming straight for his men. Second, the wretched thief was escaping into the Forrest of Blood. That was nearing Minecraftian territory....He wouldn't be able to get the criminal if he was dead!