The atmosphere crackled with tension, and wizards materialised in the hallway, staves in hand, gleaming with ethereal light. Alistair, clad in invisibility, tensed. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline spiking. He strained to hear anything. "Sir Wizard, what seems to be the issue?" One of the four guards inquired, brows furrowed and eyes darting between them.

The wizard paid them no mind, eyes narrowing to slits. "Reveal what thine eyes are blind to, cast my senses to the beyond, so thou are known to me." The chant twisted in the air. Two voices spoke as one.

Sensing danger and imminent discovery, Alistair whispered into his wrist. "Latch." Within the room, the paper floated, unseen by the three latching to Jasmine's back and melding into her clothes.

The wizards sensed the aberration, their gazes narrowed and locked. Time was of the essence. He summoned the ancient power etched in the runes tattooed on his shoulder blades. They flared to life, dispelling the invisibility with a burst of light. A fierce gale whipped around him. He felt the exhilarating rush as the tempest propelled him skyward.

As the wizard stepped onto the balcony, he felt the gust of wind pass his cheek and tug at his robes. Catching the sight of a figure disappearing into the clouds, his eyes narrowed in frustration. He released a low, exasperated growl, cursing under his breath.

Soaring into the sky, Alistair's heart beat frantically, his face distorted from the wind shear; his body moved at speeds he had never dreamed of. The sight of the sprawling city vanished, and he ascended to the clouds like a rocket. With a wailing scream, he shot through the rain-soaked clouds; the droplets drenching his body. The cold enveloped him, the air thinned, and desperately tried to inhale as much air as possible.

His head swam, but with enough mental energy, he fought to steady himself, his muscles protesting against the exertion. Frantically trying to tame the chaotic velocity, he re-entered the world from orbit. Barely registering everything speeding around him, he noticed a patch of green, a lust forest ready and waiting to catch him.

Trying to slow down, he attempted to lessen the massive flow of mana. His tattoos were drinking in like they were dying of thirst. Constricting the channel, he did what he could with the time he had. It felt like trying to constrict a hose blasting a steady stream of water.

The runes on his back flickered, and the mana lessened. Finally, with some progress, he turned his disorientated mind to the world. With a loud crash, he descended into the green, blacking out on impact.

The light of the world descended, swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Memories flashed before his eyes, sinking beneath the watery depths of the past. Vivid scenes of the long-forgotten past crossed his mind. The appearance of a well-dressed man, seated on a throne, urgency in a gruff, impatient voice. "Please, hero, save my kingdom. We need you." The scene shifted, dissolving into a dark room, illuminated by shining crystals.

Seated at a desk, a bearded man in a grey robe, read from a book. The bespectacled man looked haggard and aged. He scowled at whatever had gained his ire. He spoke with a shrill voice that belied his appearance.

"No, my dear boy, that is insane. The practice of engraving runes of power upon your body is the height of foolishness, even for a hero."

Transitioning to a new room, the scene faded as candlelight provided the only source of illumination. The feel of satin sheets and feather pillows pressed against his back, lulling him into comfort. The figure of a beautiful naked woman, only a thin sheet, granted her modesty. Her hypnotic silver eyes drew him in, mesmerised. He doubted he could look away, even if he tried.

Her soft, sultry voice resounded in his ear, laced with desire and sweet nothings. "You can stay the night, my love. Isabel can keep up the charade a little longer. Right now, I'm no longer the Queen of Asteria, but the Queen of this bedroom." She purred, leaning over like a cat ready to pounce. She leapt over to a straddling position and he looked deeper into her eyes, her mouth stretching into a mischievous grin. "And as queen of this domain, I demand obedience from my only subject. This is a decree from Her Majesty. Kiss me, dear Alistair. Hold me and never let me go." She declared haughtily.

He nodded, compelled by certainty, he leaned forward, gently caressing the nape and pulling her into a tender kiss. Holding her tightly, his heart beat rapidly, and as a thrill coursed through his body, he buried himself into her arms. Her lips pass down to his neck, kissing it lightly, tickling his skin with every graze.

Reaching up to his ear, she whispered. "Don't go, please don't leave me. Come back, my love, come back." Her words faded, and the darkness cruelly swallowed the past and tore him away and into the light.

The sound of chirping birds and the gentle rustle of the wind caressed the trees. Gradually pulled him from the depths of his slumber. He groaned in pain, his whole body ached, and the sensation struck him the moment he regained awareness. He assessed the condition of his body, luckily only minor scrapes and bruises.

Turning his gaze to the remnants of his tattered clothes, reality sank in like a knife. A sigh escaped his lips. The dull ache turned it into a groan. Reaching for a lifeline, he instinctively turned to his right thigh. He gave his leg a good slap, and a glow seeped over his body.

It slowly covered his whole body, washing away aches and pains. Every limb the aura touched became pleasant and warm. His wounds healed rapidly. He sighed, content that his pain had finally subsided. He assessed himself as the aura faded away.

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His jacket had several open seams but remained still intact, a testament to its resilience. The pants were a different story entirely. It had a few rips at the bottom, near his ankles, but still not too bad. Dusting himself off, he assessed his surroundings, taking in the scent of trees and dense foliage. Recalling what little he could remember; he tried to divine a direction. Guessing that north was the best idea he hiked through the forest.

Taking only a step, the sound of swaying winds brushed past his ear. It whispered, the voice sending a chill down his spine. "Hello, there, my little invader." The voice was neither feminine nor masculine. It shifted in pitch, a chorus of many voices.

Alistair spun around and scanned for threats. Only the scent of foliage, the whistling of the wind, and the rustling of trees greeted him. Just as he thought he was alone, an unsettling voice brushed against his cheek. "Do not be frightened mortal, I won't tell the others of your deed."

Frustrated by the creature's evasiveness, he readied a spell. "Show yourself!" Growling, he revealed the dragon tattoo.

With a thought, it writhed across his hand, opening its maw and producing a fierce gout of fire. The flames coiled and danced within his palm. He could feel the heat radiate outward and the nagging desire to set this world aflame.

"Hmm, now where did you get that? Have you been dealing with Pyrus? I doubt he would grant dragon fire to a mortal, even to his summoned." The voice conveyed intrigue and surprise.

Following his words, the wind slowly travelled around him, circling him in a dance he couldn't fathom. Concern etched its way on his face, and Alistair poured more mana into his dragon fire. The flame engorged, swelling larger than expected. The inferno erupted from his hand, staggering him backwards. Just as he fell, an air current cushioned his fall with a soft embrace.

Thrown to the side, Alistair landed hard against a tree, the impact knocking out the breath from his lungs. Dazed, he observed the swirling winds dance around the flame, a mesmerising vortex. The fire exhausted, its heat sustenance drained away to embers. With the fire gone, the wind dispersed before reforming into a figure.

Its entire body, composed of air currents, swayed back and forth, giving it a vaguely humanoid appearance from the torso up. The apparition stared down at him, its fading and reforming eyes shifting like a whirling storm. Its mouth formed and dissipated, a mockery of human expression..

"Greetings, stranger from another world. I am Ventus, the spirit of the wind. I greet you and congratulate you on your impressive deed of hijacking our summoning ritual." Manifesting a fedora made of air, the creature tipped his hat.

Confused and aching from the impact, Alistair racked his brain, and adrenaline surged his body alerting him to the danger. "I don't know what you're talking about, spirit." Trying for a bald-faced lie was not his initial intention, but he was never one to back down and roll over.

Snickering derisively, transforming into a hearty bit of laughter that echoed throughout the forest. "Don't be coy mortal, my siblings and I had already sensed your invasion the moment you arrived," he declared with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Alistair's racing heart signaled that someone had found him out. Yet despite the fear gripping him, the spirit didn't seem to be angry or threatening. "No need to be so fearful. I will not tell my kin where you are, alas I have taken an interest in you and now offer a deal that can be mutually beneficial." Intrigued by his words, Alistair nodded.

"You see, I and my siblings were initially unaware a mortal hijacked our masterpiece summoning ritual, only sensing a fourth energy signature." Gesturing, he began pacing in mid-air, manifesting legs for the effect.

"That energy could be anything from a demon to a stray bit of magic, likely they will accuse me of bringing my hero, which I can deny, reinforcing my neutrality towards current events." He leaned down, his billowing smoke-like body shifting in the breeze. "I got out of the summoning hero business, never liked the pompous Empire, even back when we agreed, yet you are indeed a new variable I would very much like to exploit. Interested?" Manifesting eyebrows, he raised one.

Detecting his presence, Alistair had to continue cautiously as he contemplated the offer. With an answer in mind, he replied. "What did you have in mind?"

Shifting his form to a complete humanoid appearance, limbs and all, it descended to the ground, mimicking an earthbound human male. Still, his form shifted, but was substantially more solid than before.

"Well, I need to fulfil. There is a war heading our way and the division between the races threatens a conflict that may engulf the entire continent." The being's words struck Alistair as wholly familiar.

"I withdrew from the Empire, yet I still have a vested interest in the preservation of the mortals. So, an unseen figure like you would be of great help to me." Floating, Ventus swayed from side to side, maintaining his upright posture.

Alistair painted a mental picture of the situation and yet the nagging feeling at the back of his mind whispered suspicion. "I offer you my patronage, the blessing of the wind, you shall gain power and my favour. In return, you will be my agent within the realms of mortals. That is all I ask." His offer piqued interest, the gnawing need for magic pressed against the back of his mind.

Despite being saturated in oceans of mana, the need for it still plagued him, as if all this was still not enough. Wanting to agree immediately, he restrained his thoughts and asked some questions. "Is there anything else you wish to inform me regarding this deal If I choose to accept?" Prompted by the nagging desire to understand all facets of the situation, Alistair questioned.

Letting out a small chuckle, Ventus placed an illusory finger on his chin. "Nothing much really, unlike me siblings. I am not a complicated entity. I find you intriguing and so I act." The spirit spoke with complete nonchalance, as if it were obvious.

Shrugging as a gesture of acceptance. "What happens if I refuse your gracious offer?" Thinking there was some risk to asking such a question, he asked anyway.

Tilting his head like a confused puppy, Ventus grinned like a child. Floating above, he turned himself upside down, the ancient entity or a childish creature. "Nothing really, you may go on your way, but alas it won't take long for my siblings to find you and throw you back to your world." Smiling mischievously, the wind spirit knew he had him in the palm of his hand.

"Of course, accepting my blessing shall not only grant you power, but conceal you from my kin." The notion was too tantalising to pass up. With a few thoughts, he agreed, nodding in acceptance.

Rising to his feet, Alistair gazed up at Ventus expectantly. The wind spirit only reached out with his half solid, half gaseous hand. "Take my hand and it will be done. What is your name, anyway? I forgot to ask." Reaching out, Alistair watched the spirit's actions with interest, yet cautiously prickled at the back of his neck, trying to get his attention.