Ashwin's Missing

[Ashar]

Ashar?s head turned sharply as she heard footsteps.  She watched, her heart racing as a silhouette appeared.  But it was too tall.  She frowned as the fear and misery began to fill the void that was her momentary hope.  The figure walked by her, a polite nod in her direction as it continued on through the temple.

?Dark hooded robed men.  They were everywhere.  They tried to grab me.?

Her younger brother?s words haunted her.  It had been weeks since he had taken refuge in Elbar?s temple and last they spoke they agreed that it was best he remain in their Lord?s presence.  If anything was required, she would fetch it for him.  But a few days later she had awoke one day to find him gone.  Grakaroas, Master of Elbar?s temple, had said that he had simply walked off and didn?t look to be in danger.  He spoke with a tall armored being before walking away with the man.

She now frowned, waiting impatiently upon the bench before the temple altar, feeling as if she were helpless to do anything but wait.

?A storm lies to the North.  It heads East.? Ialranoas, the healer said calmly upon seeing her disappointed look.

Ashar looked up at the being who now smiled back.  Her fingers ran across the tome?s cover that she held under one arm.  Nodding slowly and understanding his meaning, she slid off the bench and moved through the hovering dense fog of the temple, exiting to the streets of Naerlan.

************

High upon a hill in Valeda, the young drow woman stood, watching the dark clouds move towards her, the rain falling gently for now.  She opened the tome before her, and finding its weight difficult to manage in one arm, she placed it on the grassy ground before her, one bare foot out, to hold the page still against the building wind.  In a thick Drowish accent she read aloud, in Common, the passage at her feet,

?Lord Elbar, God of Storms and Chaos.  Father of Weather, Rebirth and all that is unpredictable.  I pray to you!  It, who was once a mere cloud, wandering the skies and doomed to evaporate.  It, who was, by unpredicted means, there on the day Goddess Irrail was obliterated by the Rod of Destruction.  It, who was to witness a shard pass through the skies and charge It with power divine.  It, who became He, God of the Storms!?

Ashar raised her eyes to the skies to see the storm had nearly arrived.  The wind blew fiercely at her face, whipping strands of her white hair out of it?s neatly done bun.  Her dress flared behind her as if it were a cape and her sleeves expanded, filled with the wind as she raised them to the skies.

?Lord Elbar, God of Storms and Chaos!  Father of Weather, Rebirth and all that is to be unpredicted.  I beseech you!  He, who was once content to simply monitor the weather.  He, who provided rage and calm.  He, who realized as time passed that the mortals of Tharel were blind.  He, who witnessed them remember Him in times of storm and wave, but who soon forgot in times of calm.  He, who suffered loneliness.  He, who was easily forgotten.  He, Lord Elbar, God of Storms!?

The storm had arrived.  The rain pelted the drow furiously, her long hair a wet and wild mess, danced about her body.  The silver needles that held her bun, were now long gone.  She clenched her fists, a few of the pages of the tome, not held down by her foot, tore away and flew up to the skies.  But she continued, now by memory,

?Lord Elbar, God of Storm and Chaos!  Father of Weather, Rebirth and all that is to come!  I beg of you!  He, who reminded the mortals of who he was.  He, who gave them what they wanted.  He, who unleashed the rains.  He, who struck with lightening.  He, who pelted with hail.  He, Lord Elbar, God of Storm of Chaos!?

The force of the winds pressed against her, causing her to stumble back.  A few more pages tore out of the tome before it was abruptly shut and tossed down the hill behind her.  She crouched down, gripping her fingers into the wet soil, staring up blindly at the black clouds that formed above her.  Leaves began to whip at her face and yet she continued to stare, blinking as the rain and suddenly hail was thrown down from the skies.

?WHERE IS MY BROTHER?!?!??

She screamed to the storm at the top of her lungs.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw something flying towards her but it was too late for her to react.  She was knocked out cold, the heavy branch bouncing off her head and continuing on its flight.

************

When she awoke, the calm of the forest had returned.  The skies were bright, the birds sang, and only a few leafless and torn branches remained to indicate what had occurred.  Her head ached, she tasted blood.  She tried to make a sound, but only groaned, as her tongue was swollen and cut.  She stared off sadly, believing she had received no answer but quickly she understood, glancing around at the forest.  She sat up, a bit dizzy, and combed at her tangled hair, smiling to the skies and whispering to herself,

?He is gone.  But he will be reborn.?

[Ashwin]

A dark place? occasionally a glimmer of blue light crawling spastically through a viewing hole in a corroded, brick wall. The storm raged angrily outside, and in this quiet place was naught but the sound of its vengeful rain and rolling thunder.

    A single chain rattled the spacious hall just outside of this narrow corridor, and a small dark figure showed the glowing silver rings of his empty pupils for the first time in hours. He groaned in fear of whatever noise he heard, and was soon looking up at one of the sneaky hooded wraiths. Its body was a calm vortex, as were its contrasting white eyes, sometimes shifting to a glowing gold hue. The noise it emitted was nothing like the furious howl from before, but more of the distant haunting wind that brushed the very same windows of this dungeon.

    ?Where am I?? was the first thing Ashwin could muster up to the terrifying phantasm. It felt like a nightmare. Like all of the unfamiliar, scarce objects of the black room were fogged from sight by the unsettling glow of a massive, robed ghost that fit a disfigured profile. ?Where am I!??

    ?Far? far? away.?

    The drow boy closed his eyes, unable to imagine how far away he must be if a phantom tells him so.

    ?So you?re the one they?re all talking about" spoke the apparition. ?I was hoping the fate of so many wouldn?t come down to this?? It spoke in a very condescending tone, appraising Ashwin with unimpressed slits for eyes. ?Very well my brothers, we shall put him through trial.?
   
    ?What? I didn?t do anything!? Ashwin tried to move, but he was held down by chains made of blue mana that had a death grip on his wrists.

    ?Not yet.? The wraith slowly hovered away, into the blackness, into the mysterious universe of Ashwin?s new world.

    Hours upon hours passed, and the dungeon seemed to only get darker, that is until a thousand candles all quietly flickered into life, lining every wall, and areas scattered on the floor and ceiling. Suddenly the room had a dim, eerie existence? But other than that, things remained lifeless and uneventful, and after Ashwin studied his surroundings, and the single door and the single pointless window of his dungeon wall, he once again fell asleep.

[Ashwin]

Many years ago?


   Focus? Ashwin?s eyes opened again, and immediately he felt as distant from home as he had ever been. A small random room that could?ve been anywhere, dark and dimly lit by a flickering candle. Wooden walls, wooden ceiling, wooden floor. There were rope nets and random buoyant objects on the walls and an old dusty rug in the middle of the room.  A peculiar creaking and groaning came from the entire infrastructure of whatever he was inside of, and he was sure everything was in motion, slowly lifting and falling from left to right in long, gentle sweeps. As he came to, Ashwin decided he was in a bedroom of a large boat or ship. So far from home, he must be, to have felt different textures and smelled different air multiples of times. He felt now like he was suffocating, and could occasionally hear a frighteningly low and distant noise that forced everything to vibrate. He tiredly ambled to the only door leaving the room, and pushed it open with a strange force required to move it.
   When the door swung open, a blast of wet air howled down a passage of narrow stairs in front of him and nearly blew him back into the room. However, when the pressure balanced, he was able to ascend the rickety, soaking steps. The dismal, strange morning sky looked completely different than what he remembered at home, though he couldn?t pinpoint why. Probably because it was vast, and the horizon went on forever in all directions, a mesh of delicate cyan fading on all sides into the darkness of a foreboding, massive sea. So vulnerable felt he, that Ashwin didn?t come to the top of the steps. Already the great wind was more than he was prepared for, and didn?t understand how anyone could sit comfortably out here for a long time.
   The drow knew he didn?t belong here, never before imagining what the sea was really like abroad. Its presence is great and commanding, and felt on all five senses like a watchful God. He could hear indistinctive moaning of wind, and water, and wood, like ghosts. His sensation was that he could disappear out here, and the might of the sea could forget him as a whole, and the world would never know he lived.
   Minutes and minutes passed, and Ashwin continued staring at his awesome surroundings. He was sure that whatever put him here was something important, or powerful, with an agenda much larger than the one small drow boy who was captive on such a formidably large ship. It was obvious that he was not going anywhere, and there was no more reason for chains and locks. But did this necessarily mean it was safe to explore? Ashwin took another brave step up onto the deck, and looked in a southern direction that was previously blocked from view. Miles and miles away, a sinister storm flashed brightly and sporadically, violently thrashing the seas, leaving the boat with only the distant sight of grim flickering, and deep, rolling thunder. This is the overpowering sound he felt and heard while in the dark cabin room. It was nothing but a warning to fare in the other direction.
   ?Ay mate.? A rugged deckhand wiped his lip, a knife in one hand and a half-eaten pear in the other. Ashwin jumped with a start, his long, straight white hair flipping almost reflectively as he looked sharply in the direction of the voice.
   ?I dun care what old wizard yer in cahoots with? Captain says I get to watch over the precious litto? cargo (that be you), and make sure nary a pretty elf make its way o?er board.? The man seemed a pirate, especially the way he smiled, only half of his teeth actually looking like teeth at all. ?Rough seas out thea??? A gangly, dirt-caked finger pointed out towards the storm, like a woeful beast that wallowed angrily in the far. ?Wouldn?t want to be flotsam in the middle of that? Driftin? around on top of this endless, icy hell with that monster hanging overtop o? you? Make ye wish ye were never born. Yea, yea, ye just stay right here where it?s nice and cozy, right? Come now, I won?t bite.?
   Ashwin stared at the man in horror, beginning to gradually back away from him. It only seemed to anger the smelly pirate, and his true nature was unveiled as he reached out for Ashwin?s neck with his grimy talon.
   As the boy was really beginning to panic, he heard a unique sound, like the air was becoming crisp, and static. The fog behind the pirate seemed to illuminate and burn up dry as a barrage of bright, whirring missiles charged outward, and drew delicate, glowing contrails overhead. They spun around each other in an artful way, before each diving down and striking the dirty man from all sides. One after another, slam after slam, these magic missiles charged and burnt into the pirate?s flesh with each impact, a total of 15 times. Nobody was counting them, least of all Ashwin, who was petrified with fear and huddled against the soaking stairs. The deckhand?s sizzling carcass tipped over sideways, hardened and smoking, and reeking of some profound electrical execution.
   ?Confounded, IGNORANT boatmen! I told you that none of your men are to so much as GLANCE at my cargo, captain. . . You must?ve mistook me for someone who can?t enforce the rules. Or maybe you?ve spent far too much time away from the civilized and educated world to comprehend deeply involved concepts like ?no?, ?don?t touch? and ?take a bath? ? So let me speak slow enough for lowbrow Neanderthals to understand??
   The wizard had red robes, and a tall red hat. Too red. He seemed to glow like a dying, scarlet star, spreading a warmth that was anything but comfortable. More like negative energy that had nowhere left to go but outward. He calmly floated towards Ashwin and laid his lanky, pale fingers across the drow?s pearlescent white hair. It was the last thing the boy remembered before falling back into his oblivious slumber.
   ?Don?t look, don?t touch, and don?t even bother coming near the lock on this door. This little elf is worth more than all of you, all of your families, and all of the families of those who built this big chunk of floating debris you call a ship. I will turn you all into single celled bacteria! Protoplasm!? The red wizard rambled on.

[Ashwin]

?Monotonous, tedious, frustrating ocean! I would?ve teleported us weren?t it not so vast and unpredictable.? The red wizard grabbed Ashwin?s wrist and tugged him up onto the deck. It was terribly bright. Too bright for a drow. His fair skin felt agitated under the harsh sun. There were traces of dust blowing over the side of the ship, but the drow could not force his eyes open wide enough to see where he was. So very bright?
   Eventually, his pupils became forcibly small enough to take a gander at his destination. The wizard dragged him along down a long, wide wooden plank that led towards a twisted, old dock. There was new noise everywhere, and this was the noise of a bustling desert city, with all of its people arbitrarily going about their daily business with no second guess as to any other possible version of life. The city itself seemed a few decades behind, with quaint, dusty cobblestone roads and poorly maintained architecture; entirely surrounded by large, less-than-promising mountains that lacked any foliage whatsoever. There were areas of road where bails of hay lied scattered asunder. Clucking chickens in large wooden kennels, merchants advertising their wares with thoughtless hollering, dogs barking, children playing and armored guards clattering by on patrol.
   ?Forty days, forty nights, alas, we are not in Kansas anymore, boy. Three seas away, we are here in the merchant city Ataka, far to the east. I am actually impressed that the old rundown boat was able to move so quickly. This is the continent of Erenia, and far to the south is Wolong, where the legendary jade temple lies. And that?s where we?re going. Stay near, for there are far worse atrocities in the bowels of this place than I??
   Ashwin was drained, and very ready for food and good sleep. Again he was hauled away by the archmage, tugged along through the curvaceous streets of this new, strange town. It wasn?t long before they were standing in another small, uncomfortable room. The drow was startled back into alertness by the crash of a sack of gold against a dark stone counter.
   ?Dariou, my old cohort. . . You know why I have come, and what I pay for. I expect nothing less than your classic hustle. Chop chop.?
   The human behind the counter was bald, his skin dark from much exposure to the barren sun outside. He smirks, remaining silent as he overlooks the lot of coins.
   ?You?ll find in some places, your money and influence is powerless, old mage.?
   ?That may be, but certainly not here. If not because of your notorious greed, then because of my twitching, threatening urge to scramble your organs like eggs in the morning. We?re in a hurry, by the way.?
   Dariou sighed and snapped his fingers, one of his lackeys lumbering out of the shadows and leaning down to receive a whispered order. The man nodded and walked around the counter, beginning to collect the wizard?s one large piece of baggage.
   ?Come through the back, you old tarantula. . .? Dariou muttered and gestured that everyone follow. ?We?ve already prepared a carriage.?

[Ashwin]

?What is the meaning of this?? Was the first thing Ashwin could think to say. The mage looked at him in surprise, his bushy white brows furrowing. ?Never you mind yet, there are things far out there that would melt your innocent little brain. But I shall open that third eye you possess in all due time. You?ll get more answers than you bargained for, with patience, little drow.?
   The wizard seemed overwhelmed with anticipation. ?So much, you will learn about yourself. You really have no inkling yet!?
   The carriage was made of darkwood, a type of tree very scarce in Erenia, said only to be found in the Living Forest; a place far from anywhere, and most dangerous - a place where it is always twilight. Because of this, the very approaching image of the large room-on-wheels was a haunting sight. The wide, shine-finished door opened slowly by itself, beckoning the travelers with a creepy, silent call.
   Ashwin was quickly pushed up into the carriage by the old wizard, who then himself climbed in and poured himself into the lap of luxury; fine black cushions stuffed with eider feathers. There was exotic food and cold drink here, assorted along the opposite side of the coup, and looking mighty welcoming.
   ?Eat, boy. You look a little thin. There?s a long road ahead of us, and I don?t know these areas enough to portal us anywhere.? The mage adjusted the cuffs of his elaborate red robe as he spoke, and a team of black horses began pulling the carriage quickly as soon as the door shut.
   For hours, and hours, the carriage rolled on. It was a smooth and comfortable ride with very much to see. They had passed desert, dry grass, and had spent most of the ride descending into some massive valley formation that led into the east, and south, away from the dying sun.
   And as the black carriage was submerged into a thick fog in the night, they could hear the river beside them, coming closer. The old wizard was by now, cozily reading an old tome in his lap, with a small lantern lighting the inside of the carriage. Ashwin could feel a bit of air come through over a small window, and knew it was becoming very cold outside. He closed the window of the warm cabin and continued looking out into the distance, as much of it as he could see anyway. The valley at night was thick with a sea of shadowy foliage, fog, and worst of all, moaning and howling.
   Ashwin fought to stay awake, as he lingered somewhere between consciousness and dreaming. He had forgotten that this mage was his captor, sometimes, and had forgotten that once, he had his own free will. The hours of the night were relentless, as were the layers of twilight that the carriage gradually rolled into. The fog was still, entwined through the endless legion of somber weeping willows. nothing but the muffled sounds of hooves against the mud?
   As abrupt and as startling as could possibly be, the entire carriage was rocked by its foundation. One or two seconds later, as the large transport was gently tipped up on its two side wheels, a magnificent force blew the carriage over, with a massive dent in its side. Immediately as the archmage bounced and struck the walls, a sort of automatic swirl of bright blue light gathered at each point of impact and absorbed him safely. Ashwin wasn?t sure, but he felt the same sort of refreshing net of energy grabbing him in mid-crash, and cradling him to a safe rest.
   The drow?s head was shaken and unclear, as a silent hand swept him from the sideways carriage and swiftly drew him out of the window. Ashwin was taken by surprise, as he turned his head to meet the dark eyes of a tightly shrouded ninja. And the eyes were all he could see. Even clearer, were a couple of similar figures in black, who lanced across his line of sight and slipped away into the near darkness. The shadowy man begun to drag the boy away from the wrecked carriage, but did not get far. The vehicle exploded behind them; a powerful red ring of energy growing outwards from the eruption of fire, riding the blast wave into the sky and ground. Ashwin, and the one who tried to take him, were now lying on the ground trying to regain their breath.
   The wizard was furious, and as scarlet as ever. A blinding white light followed behind his head, fusing his silhouette into a red, brooding shadow as he slowly approached. ?I see you were all very impatient to see if it was true. I did not think you had the gall to actually come and try to take him from me, though.? The mage sighed, and pointed towards the ninja who tried to get up and head for Ashwin again.
   Time seemed to slow down, and the young dark elf gazed into the eyes of the weary ninja as he ran towards him. Slower, and slower. It was odd, Ashwin swore that time was now standing still, and the ninja was but a motionless statue of a running man.
It became clear, as Ashwin continued staring into his eyes, and those eyes became lifeless, gray, and cracked. The red wizard sauntered up towards Ashwin and pushed the ninja over, whose flesh was turned entirely to stone. As he struck the ground, he became nothing but dust. Nothing but the memory of a few unknown people, who were too far away to matter. The drow gaped in awe.
   The spidery old man stopped again, and knew they were still not alone? He glared angrily, though his face was mostly a look of irritation and inconvenience.
   ?VERSUS OS!? The red wizard?s voice boomed and echoed, open to the ears of whatever ominous beasts denned in the thicket. Birds and bats evacuated the trees and filtered the moonlight, filling the sky with harsh screeching and flapping. Like all of the spells memorized by this mage, his true sight spell was powerful and ineluctable. A great transparent eye glowed like a ghost over the wizard?s head, blinking and twitching as it spun left and right. It found what the old man sought; a helpless ninja, confused, unable to melt so easily into the black, decrepit swamp. The poor spy backed away in terror as the mage approached, crying out for his life in a strange tongue.
   Ashwin?s mind could think about nothing but what terrible gruesome fate awaited the fleeing ninja, when his train of thought was interrupted by yet another outstretched arm. The dark elf was plucked from the ground and held against a third ninja?s bosom, truly stolen from the mage this time. He felt incredible g-force as he was carried away with superhuman speed. The bright, roaring fire of the overturned carriage quickly became a dim, flickering flame in the night, the fog, the woods and the past.