Frozen still with an expressionless face that was a tad too handsome, devoid of knowledge of the world’s suffering, a young man slept beneath the surface of a bath filled to the brim with enchanted water suffused with numerous portions, humming with the touch of magic.
At first glance, it almost appeared as though the man was dead. With great patience, however, one would learn to notice the minuscule rising of his chest as continued to breathe through the help of a Breathing Spell.
The serenity of this room almost followed the boy into his dreams. Vague dreams of tranquillity kept the young man’s mind company bearing with them a monotony that could have driven even the strongest mind mad.
In these dreams, he dreamt of a neverending meadow. A meadow where the sun never rose or fell, where the winds blew constantly and the smell of ripe wheat filled the air even though there was no wheat to speak of.
Alaric’s vision was not as clear as he remembered it but oddly enough, that didn’t bother him. And in this meadow, he would spend nearly every hour of his neverending day, playing with a young girl. Naturally, he knew this young girl since the two of them shared a very strong bond. How this bond came into existence was none of his concern.
The girl wore glowing golden armour which… sometimes puzzled Alaric.
Oddly enough, his confusion always lasted a short while before they continued playing in the beautiful meadow. They played hide and seek in the tall grass and chased themselves around in a game of tag. They played puzzles and joked repeatedly for what felt like an eternity.
Much of the world didn’t make sense… and yet, Alaric found that even this detail of the odd world didn’t matter. Everything simply… was. On occasion, his mind would grow muddled with worry.
The more he felt as though the world did matter, the more he furrowed his eyebrows and felt his stomach twist into a knot. Something wasn’t right.
In moments such as this, he would turn to the girl and ask her to tell him what was wrong. Each time, he was perfectly positive that she would give him the right answer and each time, she dismissed his question, distracting him with more games.
In the incident that he grew persistent, she would ask, “Does it matter?”
And before he could press the matter, his mind shattered and his thoughts were scattered in the wind, leaving him exactly where he started, “You’re right. It shouldn’t.”
Then, he played some more.
This cycle went on for a very long time… until the day it stopped.
It was a sunny day just like any other… Time flowed—or didn’t—as it always had, and Alaric, as usual, had no idea of how long he’d been here.
On this day though, the armoured girl was less playful and more… wistful. As Alaric approached, he felt a foreign pang of pain in his chest, an indication of an emotion he’d never felt coming from the bond he felt with the young girl. Normally, he felt a few tinges of sadness coming from her, especially when he asked her weird questions of why the world was the way it was but this was different.
He almost expected her to break down into tears and yet at the same time, that thought seemed so comical that he could have laughed at himself.
‘As if Alia could ever be caught crying?’ he mentally chided, then froze, ‘Who is…’
The pang of sorrow roused him from his thoughts. With a sigh, he approached the girl from behind, emerging from the tall grass and onto a small hill. Growing from a small mound of earth raised above the neverending sea of the great meadow was a great oak tree that went high into the air, casting a shade onto the small island of shot grass above the tall stalks.
He paused for a bit, then took a seat next to the girl, looking out to the meadow. Somewhere out there, Alaric saw the grass shift and the tip of a large black wing emerge only to dive back into the sea of tall grass, “Can’t believe we still haven’t caught that cat?”
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The girl chuckled, “He’s not going anywhere. If anything he’ll come to us when he’s no longer shy.”
Something in Alaric’s mind told him the girl was not lying… but that same thing also told him he didn’t understand the full implications of her words. Shaking the confusing thoughts away, Alaric decided to approach the elephant in the room.
“What’s the matter?”
The girl looked at him, her radiant beauty and kind demeanour shining even through her sadness, “Our time together is coming to an end.”
“What?” Alaric blinked, “That doesn’t make any…”
“ You need to wake up, Alaric. You need… to breathe.”
Alaric’s mind shattered like glass and the image of the radiant girl blinked like a malfunctioning flashlight… then, he took a deep breath.
His muscles, which had been resting for longer than they ever had in his life, were suddenly jolted awake pushing him a meter above the surface of the water before he crashed back into the tub with a loud splash.
Oblivious to the mess he caused, the boy staggered out of the tub in a coughing fit only to drop to the ground… He stared back at the tub whilst still struggling to catch his breath… ‘I was… underwater. For how long?’
[I… don’t know myself,] Alia’s voice replied. A sense of warmth swept over the boy’s body, ushered in by his guardian’s voice. It was good to hear Alia’s voice, like a reminder that a vital part of him that he could not live without was still safely with him… and not going anywhere.
As he looked around, he noticed a few makeshift beds, a pitcher of water, some cups and a tray. All looked vaguely out of place in the glowing room covered with runes and glowing crystals.
When Alaric noticed the other two tubs, he rushed over to them, only to find them empty and clean. ‘They… already left.’
From the looks of it, his friends had woken up and even had the time to clean out their tubs. The boy ran a hand through his hair. His memories were fuzzy and his mind was still struggling to recall everything that happened before he went into the Tempering Ritual.
Flashes of a beautiful meadow went through his mind in a convoluted haze, devoid of any sense of time…
[ Thank you, Alia. For keeping me company, ] Alaric finally said.
[ It was my pleasure, ] Alia replied.
Alaric took the time to look around. A subtle sniff around told him this chamber was visited a lot. He walked to the bedding near the door and checked the pitcher.
It was half-full with water which he downed with an inhuman thirst, never taking the vessel from his lips. Once he had finished the water, he felt a bit better. He was still hungry… but that was something he would solve later.
Now, he needed to get back to the orphanage. Before he could stand, he noticed a pile of folded clothes by the bed. The clothes were white and made of fine material, soft to the touch. More importantly, however, they resembled a unique colour theme he’d seen before. Checking them, he noticed the insignia of a pot of ink and a quill embroidered into them.
[ The Tower of Seekers. Are these for me? ] he wondered, then sniffed them. They smelled fresh… and new? ‘Is that what a new cloth smells like?’
[ Try them on ] Alia edged him on.
Alaric stood and unfolded the clothes. Holding them to his height, he realised they were slightly shorter than he was…
Shrugging, he took off his wet clothes and waited a bit for his skin to dry, then put on the clothes.
During the time that he changed, a black hand rose from the shadows and held the door shut. Of course, Alaric was oblivious to this and didn’t notice at all.
Once he was dressed and made sure the fancy clothes weren’t uncomfortable despite not reaching his ankles, he walked to the door and opened it.
[ Was the entrance always this short? ] Alaric asked.
[ No, you’ve grown taller ] Alia replied.
The boy froze for a bit…
He’d grown… taller? That didn’t make any sense at all. But then, when he looked at the ground, it did seem a little farther down than he remembered. His heart quickened… [Mirror…]
[ I’m sure Sister Marla has one, ] Alia comforted him.
[ Okay, let’s get back to the orphanage, ] Alaric breathed then stepped out of the door.
Outside, he froze. Rather than being met by the elegant forest he knew and loved, Alaric was hit with the worst kind of unfamiliarity. The trees were at least twice as large in girth and the leaves were a bit too thick even to be called leaves. At this rate, each leaf resembled a cactus leaf. Vines had grown all around constricting around the road they used to get to the cottage.
The sun was even less and instead, large strange crystalline objects were growing out of the ground in scattered clusters and lighting it up in an ethereal glow… ‘Aether Crystals.’
[ Just great! ] he sighed.
Almost as fast as the unfamiliar scenery had bombarded his eyes, his senses were bombarded with an immense wave of aether. ‘Aether… So much aether,’ Alaric breathed.
When did the Five Hills gain so much aether? He wondered to himself.
It was a question he would have to ask the others once he’d returned to the orphanage. There was so much Alaric didn’t know. Where were his friends? How long had been asleep? Why was the air so rich in aether now? What happened while he slept?
“Alaric? Is that you?” a familiar voice suddenly interrupted the boy’s thoughts.
A large man of familiar build appeared at the end of the path as a bright smile bloomed on Alaric’s face, “LionHeart!”