The moon is bright in the sky when the strange man stumbles through the temple covered in blood.

He falls past the great wooden door with a thud and it's only after an attendant confirms he's still breathing that they are sure he's alive.

“Lay him on the stretcher!” the head healer orders as an army of acolytes run through to lift the hulking figure unto the flat surface.

No one present is sure it can carry him until the acolytes are stumbling through the hall to the infirmary.

Amias watches all this from the top of the spiral staircase with narrowed eyes, just who was that man and why was he so heavily injured? Snapping the ancient tome in his hand shut he retreats to the library, it was late and surely the man would be there tomorrow when he came to inspect.

He nods to himself, continuing his stride up the staircase back to the library and perhaps he would be able to find out if the man had seen what he'd been searching for.

The tower of Wynd

The roaring fire soothes his nerves as he chews nervously on his thumb nail, sleep wouldn't come but Amias supposes this is what they call excitement. He paces his given room as a master cleric in the temple of Edain waiting and waiting until first rays of dawn fall through his open window.

It's then Amias realizes he hasn't slept. He looks over at his bed, not a pillow out of place just as the attendant had left it early yesterday morning.

He shakes his head.

“I'll sleep when I'm dead.” he mutters to himself, running a hand through his dark hair. He prays to the Holy one that this wasn't another false lead, that the battered frame that made it to the temple last night knew something.

A knock comes though the door, disrupting any further thoughts Amias has passing through. He pulls the knob to find one of the acolytes standing before him, bowing deeply she says.

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“Master healer, Master Anok has requested your presence in the infirmary.”

Amias is taken aback by her words and it shows, the girl quirks her brow, asking if he's alright.

“Fine just surprised.” he replies. “I'll be with him in a moment.” he says. She nods, stepping away from the door and leaving. Amias assumes she's on her way to study.

He liked her spirit, she would be a good cleric one day.

The road to the infirmary is straight path from the main entrance of the temple,his shoes clack on the hard stone floor as he walks, tracing the worn stones.

The temple was older than anyone who lived in it currently, so old no one knew who or what had built it, even in his books Amias could not find the answer.

There was always something new to learn, his master used to say. Amias clenches his fist, willing away the thought.

It wouldn't do to think of that right now.

“Master Anok you wanted to see me.” Amias says straightening his back at the sight of the older master. Anok, the stoutly old man stares Amias down with a look that could only be described as intense and utter dislike.

The older man bares his teeth getting ready to address the younger master cleric.

“Speak to him.” Anok says nearly barking as though having to address his colleague was a the worst punishment one could receive.

“Yes.” Amias says with a bow to the older man as he storms out of the infirmary.

“He doesn't seem to like you does he.” A deep voice says from behind him. Amias turns around to find the injured man sitting up on his cot with a smirk.

“Master Anok doesn't seem to like anyone I'm afraid.” Amias says good naturedly. “I'm a healer as well, do you need me to attend to you?”

The injured man shakes his head beckoning Amias closer, it's only then that the cleric realizes the man has no left hand.

“I'm not the same as I once was, but I used to be a cleric right here at this temple.” the man says looking over the stone room he was being kept in.

“How long ago was that.” Amias asks curiously, taking a seat beside the cot and listening with interest.

“Too long.” The man replies grimly. “I remember when the infirmary used to be on the other side of this temple.”

Amias laughs in disbelief, ridiculous!

“That would make you more than a hundred years old!”

“One hundred and thirty I believe.” The man replies soberly. Amias sobers up at the serious expression on the stranger's face.

“That's impossible.”

“Do you know why I requested you specifically Amias.”

“How do you know my name.” Amias asks, reaching for the small dagger he keep strapped to his waist. “I did not tell you.”

“Gaius.”

“Liar.”

“He's alive.” the man says, Amias pauses. Stunned into silence at the words. His old master, the one who everyone said had deserted the temple, fell to ruin and...

“That can't be, who are you?!”

“Boaz.” the man says placing his only hand to his chest. “And if I am correct you know he's not dead, you know he made it to the tower of wynd.”

Amias stands so abruptly his chair clatters over. How long had he waited to hear that, to know he was just not insane. All his trips to the libraries, across towns all in the name of searching.

“How do you know about the tower of wynd.” Amias asks.

The man lifts his arm to display a unique mark tattooed across his wrist.

“Because I escaped it.”