Etan Za'Darmondiel.

***

My day of destiny was upon me.

I was born in that foul pit of crimson webs for a sole reason: to be trained in the harsh light to fulfill this divine task; to be drilled in the Halls to become the finest head monk; to be instructed in the ancient tomes; to have centuries of knowledge and experience beaten into my being from the moment I was born up until these very moments for the sake of teaching him, Telin's Champion.

Days. Years. For a decade and more, I asked myself, 'Why? Why me, to live such a singular life? And what? What would happen come my destined day plus one?'

They obsessed my mind, those questions. No matter how much I meditated, trained, and fought, I thought of them. I thought of Him, a being none of us had ever seen, and yet a being I'd been made to obsess over for every waking moment of my existence. Every feeling, every emotion was projected towards that faceless being, the Champion of Telin. Anger. Confusion. Sorrow. Joy. Even indifference. So much indifference. Then so much fear.

It budded like a seed on the first of the year, sprouting concern. It pushed through the layers of snow and grew as the days turned to weeks, blooming frustration; and now, as… signs began to appear, the petals of frustration wilted to fear. Then fell, utterly confused into that pit of emptiness that was enlightenment.

The irony was not lost upon me, for enlightenment was something I found a year ago. Yet…

"Nest."

Such a simple word was spoken in the Common tongue but it may as well have been spoken by the forest itself. Predators and prey alike responded to the sound. Wolves trotted beside deer, tossing up a field of untouched snow with the enthusiasm of their steps. Rabbits thumped beneath swarms of moths, weaving between leafless trees and frosted brush. Even the silent masters of the night, the elegant owls, screeched and hooted as they flew deeper into the forest.

Breathing, mantras, nothing worked to steady my heart. On the contrary, the drumming seemed to beat with more fervor as the songs of the forest died to a whisper. It boomed as the seconds went on until… I saw movement.

Deer. Ambling. Dipping their silvery antlers with each step. Steps made with such calmness I was forced to believe they were blind to the wolves trotting next to them; and the rabbits; and the moths; all escorting curiously larger- no, giant wolves, who in turn escorted… children.

Human... children.

A million thoughts ran through my mind. The what, the how, and most importantly, the why in all the Hells were human children here. I thought them to be escaped slaves. Runaways far too lost. Polymorphed or disguised humans seeking a fight. Any and everything except for a drow walking among them.

He walked in the middle of them, a curiosity in itself, but what was more curious was the amiable visage I saw after focusing on him. He was having… small talk. With human children. Paying no mind to their endless annoyances.

Looking at him closer made it clear that he was someone I had not met. Though he had a face to match one of ours, not that the same could have been said for his clothes. He wore sleeveless robes embroidered with a great leafless tree over the front. The Great Leafless Tree, I realized on closer inspection. Solid black with a radiance that shifted between silver and gold behind it. His greater piwa was feathered in its entirety, with the same Great Tree emblazoned on the brooch.

Like any drow, his locks were white and again, adorned with a hairpin in the same shape as the mark on his chest. However, how it was wrapped gave me pause. More pause than his eyes or the two obviously celestial wolves lumbering closely by his sides or the two starry-eyed owls perched atop his shoulders.

Luckily, he was quite a distance away, allowing me to regain my composure and speak out in our mother tongue. <<"Name and house.">>

<<"Amun, Twenty-Fifth Child of the Nox. Or should I say Cole?">>

I felt half of my frame relax while another half stiffened. Though his eyes were suspicious still... <> I shamefully paused once I met those indifferently piercing eyes. <<"White hair and draconic eyes.">>

He stepped before me, saying nothing but giving me a clear look at his features before his eyes rose to a point above my head, where they remained.

He was undoubtedly of that sorcerous Clan. I could see it clearly- the constitution born from human blood. But, he was undoubtedly drow also. As frail as any of us, but with the thickly corded muscles that came only from days upon years upon a decade and more of harsh training. I wondered how strong he was. Moreover, I grew disturbed at the notion that, like many half-elves, he neglected using mana in his arsenal. Instead favoring the elements or whatever affinities he possessed.

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Even more disturbing was his lack of a family name for his drow blood. That and the… familiarity, of his visage.

More even than that, though, I wondered aloud… <<"What are you staring at?">>

<<"The building.">> He said with monotonous finality. Like saying grass was green. Not a lie, it seemed, but not something that felt like the truth either.

<<"Greetings, Champion, and welcome to Nydorden Monastery. I am Head Monk Etan Za'Darmondiel, destined to be your teacher in all things.>> I pressed my fists into a bow. <>

<<"Very well.>> He nodded, subtly raising his brow before returning the gesture.

A notion of uneasiness crawled up my spine as he stepped past me, leading the beasts to step behind him, growing smaller with each step until they were pups lying in the arms of those human children. Then they were inside.

I was at least thankful that the other beasts followed not. But there were beasts of a different nature to face further in. If they would bark at me, or Amun, was the question.

There is no shame when I write the truth of me hanging as far behind the group as possible. A cautious task, for Amun looked around with just as much wonder as the children. Likewise, I watched Abbot Eiriol incredulously. Specifically, the pride in her eyes when she looked upon him.

<<"Welcome to Nydorden Monastery. I have waited for your arrival for some time, Destroyer.">> She bowed in the way she would to a Matron. Champion or not, I couldn't believe my eyes. Abbot Eiriol, showing a half-breed- a male- levels of respect befitting a matriarch; it was unbelievable.

<<"Thank you for your patience, Abbot.">> Amun bowed in turn. <<"I hope the wait was not too long.">>

<<"Not too long.">> She quickly waved the matter aside, forcing more curious exchanges between the gathering crowds. <<"I am, however, curious about these... children. Human children. And this, the smallest one, standing without fear in the face of drow. Is she ignorant of where she stands?">>

"Hi!"

The room rocked backward as one. Not from the sheer volume of the small one, but from the uncanny timing. The Abbot wasn't even looking at them. Yet the one in the blue hooded tunic waved the moment she was mentioned.

"I'm Iris Cole!"

"Hello." Abbot Eiriol feigned a smile, then looked to Amun for an explanation. But he only shrugged without a care.

<<"She's my daughter.">>

The Abbot's head shook like a snake's rattle. A tame reaction compared to the rest of us. <<"You are supposed to be no older than sixteen.">>

<<"Adopted.">> He corrected, gesturing to the other girls. <<"All of them. They're here to train.">>

The Abbot flicked a disgustedly cold gaze over the four humans. I was told a cunning smile would have followed such an event in years long past. But what I saw was something different. Something I could not place; although the smile was the same. <<"We will not coddle them. They will train as you do- as we do. By my hand.">>

<<"Understood.">> Amun bowed. And the little one in blue mirrored him.

Using the common tongue, Abbot Eiriol then waved to the surrounding monks, signaling them to bring out some friendly faces to the strangest drow of all time. Some laughed. Some sneered. Some were disgusted. Most were curious by the way Amun greeted the two humans and the cat. They laughed and shook hands, exchanging stories to catch Amun up on what he'd missed; unlocking their ki and being nearly complete with their first phase of brutal training. Strangely, there was no gloating. Not in the way we usually saw from those of the Bodhi Tree. They talked of their endless battles and their many kills in excess. But only in a matter-of-fact way. They spoke of their new skills, but in ways as to offer or request advice. Most curious of all, they spoke of countless subordinates and an unbelievable future. And then, they were shuttled away to get back to their training. Yet, many- almost every drow in the Halls remained to meet the last monk of the Bodhi Tree. The Half-Drow of the Nox. Telin's Champion. Amun.

As creatures of magic, we were eager to document his ki nature and explore his ability in earnest, sacrificing as many slaves as we needed to bring out his power. Thus their presence was no surprise. The pestilent curiosity spread throughout the caverns like toxic gas, infecting several thousand at least with a bug that forced them to rise from Zimysta to bear witness to this historical event. The eight High Matrons and their eight lessors, with their hundreds of High Priestesses, their thousands of Priestesses, their tens of thousands of soldiers, and their hundreds of thousands of slaves., it seemed like all were here to witness Telin's long-awaited Champion with their own eyes. Or, perhaps it was because they heard of the prowess of the other monks and wished to compare them to the Champion. I knew not. I only knew that I hoped they grew bored and left as quickly as possible.

The Halls were beginning to smell.

"You have catching up to do, Elg-Horr." Abbot Eiriol snickered in the ways of old, despite her use of the common tongue. "You and your… girls, are on the accelerated track, as the humans would say. These Halls hold knowledge of the arcane, compiled and retained in the Motherland since the Rending; and we are drow, pragmatic, unmerciful, and relentless in our endeavors. You will see this course is at the peak of efficiency. Like those who came before you and all the drow monks you see around you, I will ensure you leave this peninsula at the Nineteenth Step of your Path. That is a guarantee. If that takes the rest of the year depends on your tenacity and devotion.

"Five hours of meditative rest and twenty hours of training will comprise your days in these Halls. Healing, eating, drinking, relieving oneself, bathing oneself; these are all to be done when you are able. If you are able."

He accepted the challenge stoically. And, of course, the children, not knowing the weight of her words, took it excitedly or with determination. Even the celestial beasts remained stoic about the situation, distancing themselves from the children to move behind the scattering monks and lounge atop each other.

"Now," Abbot Eiriol stood before the four and gestured them to her side. "I understand this class of Bodhi Tree monks are special cases in regards to their Paths. You all have Master Classes, if I understand correctly. So pray tell, what path do you walk?"

The room itself seemed to lean forward in anticipation. Even the girls and the dogs seemed to expect an answer, and many were openly debating on the nature of his path using the silent language of our hands.

Personally, I expected the Way of Shadows. Or, if he was like the cat, the Way of Twilight. Some, perhaps the Abbot herself, hoped to witness the Way of Void for a second time. But what Amun wound up saying made me morbidly excited for the near future.

"My path is the Way to Death's Door."