Krasis’ footfalls kicked dust into the air behind him as he steadily trod up the disused path leading to the summit of Lenheim, the tallest mountain of the Droman Range. The mountain range was on the westmost seaboard of the Kingdom of Bravinia. If there was any place in all of Jialin that nobody would ever have any reason to visit, the Droman range was it. Over a hundred and fifty miles from the nearest population center Port Frakes, the location’s lack of resources and remoteness made it a pointless journey for anyone but the most dedicated of explorers to travel to. But the characteristics that would drive any normal person away made it the perfect place for Krasis.
The sun slowly dipped down in the sky as Krasis continued his ascent. Hours and hours of seemingly endless upwards trudging passed as Krasis baked under the sun, his scant possessions swaying back in forth in a sack hanging from a stick draped over his shoulder. After a while, he stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow, his gaze directed off the pathway.
A sole green conifer stood some fifteen feet off the pathway, gently swaying in the breeze. The tree was enormous, easily over seventy feet tall, sparsely studded with only the stoutest of branches, totaling less than ten. Looking at the tree for a few seconds, one might realize something incredibly off about the tree. It wasn’t the tree’s size or characteristics. It was the fact that it was the only tree for another two leagues back down the mountain.
Krasis turned off the path and stepped into the loose shale and dirt surrounding it. His feet kicked through loose pebbles and small rocks as he strode towards the tree, sending them skittering down the mountain a short ways. He paused next to the tree, leaning over to carefully regard a certain section of notched trunk.
“O’er hill, and under tree,” the man muttered the words scribed on the trunk under his breath, “‘tween the rock and the teeth, you will find our street.”
Krasis looked up and took several seconds carefully regarding his surroundings.
“‘Tween the rock and the teeth,” Krasis muttered the words again, glancing at the tree in confirmation, before giving his surroundings another careful look. After a couple brief seconds of hesitation, Krasis shrugged and set off towards the second, much lower peak of Lenheim, which much resembled a massive boulder.
After hours of walking, Krasis had finally reached the second summit of Lenheim. The sun was rapidly descending towards the horizon and the shadows would soon encompass all, but the darkness held no terrors for Krasis. He was, after all, a creature of the darkness himself. Additionally, he’d found the path. Soon, he’d be home. Halfway between a massive cave full of stalactites and the peak of the second summit of Lenheim was a massive arrow pointing downwards slightly off to the right. After following the arrow and searching for a short while he found the second trailhead.
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This one was much shorter than the last. Still, though, it took Krasis a good hour to traverse the last leg of the journey, one which ended not long after the sun had finally finished its gradual descent below the horizon. He stopped in front of a massive, dust-covered, half collapsed temple. Once, the temple may have been quite the breathtaking sight. Now, it appeared a ruin abandoned centuries ago.
Krasis wasted no time shouting greetings or peering around inquisitively. He knew the temple was empty. He set down his travel sack and strode forwards into the dusty courtyard in front of the temple.
“A son has returned.” The words rang out in the air, reverberating off the stone walls of the courtyard with their power. Seconds passed as Krasis waited. Then, flickers of movement. In the darkness, a mortal’s eyes would almost assuredly have missed them. Krasis’ didn’t. Shades. They swarmed out from everywhere. From the cracks in the temple’s sides. From the shadows in between boulders. From the loam beneath his feet. Silently they surged through the air towards Krasis. He didn’t even flinch. His eyes closed briefly before they sprang open again, awash with purple light. He raised his hands into the air and called for the Void. The Void called back. Reality shuddered as the black grains of nothingness sprang into existence into the air around him. With a nod of his head, the Void surged through the air and blew the shades apart just as his stomping feet had blown so much dust into the air, lost forever in the wind.
The shades gone, Krasis directed the Void towards the door of the temple. It surged in through a set of small holes designed precisely for this purpose, and after a short second, a massive thunk sounded as the door unlocked and swung open. Krasis strode back to the place where he’d set down his pack picked it back up. Then he turned around to stride back towards the temple before pausing outside of it, ruminating. The temple of Mallisant, god of the end and all things inevitable. A god hated nearly as much as Krasis’ own kind, so much so that his last temples were long lost relics undestroyed only in the most remote reaches of Jialin, forgotten by all but those who claimed Mallisant as their patron deity. If Krasis was going to die anywhere, forgotten, hated, and alone, this was surely the place.