Darkness surrounded Alex as he fell through the void. One moment he had been bathed in the bright light of the moons and the next, an all-consuming veil of shadows had consumed him. He fell for what felt like several minutes, yet he never seemed to gain momentum. It was as if he was slowly floating down toward the ground.
Melodi was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he couldn't even see more than a few inches in front of his face, let alone feel her presence. She had just been beside him a moment ago. Yet now, she was completely gone. Panic gripped him as he considered the possibility that this had been some kind of Order trap, and he struggled to try and move through the darkness more quickly.
However, despite his best efforts, he couldn't even tell if he was making any headway. It was as if the void was infinite, and with no light or landmarks to guide him, he felt lost and disoriented. A light soon came into view, however, and he, for lack of a better word, swam through the murk toward it. Seconds turned into minutes, and even those soon lost their meaning.
After what felt like an eternity, he reached the light, which turned out to be a wooden door. Fear gripped him, and a wave of crushing sadness engulfed him. He knew this door. It was one he was all too familiar with. It was quite a plain-looking wooden door. Yet its most striking feature was a copper doorknob that was polished to perfection.
Alex struggled to breathe. Behind this door was both the worst moment of his childhood and his greatest sadness. He reached out a hand slowly towards the doorknob, but he couldn't bring himself to even touch it. Crimson eyes shone from just above the door frame. Flaming wings shot out on either side and curled around the door. Still, he pressed on.
Fear intermingled with a sense of deep sadness and froze him in place. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his arm began to shake as he forced his hand forward despite it all. His will had grown over the years, and while he still wasn't ready to face the truth of the matter that plagued him, he still had to press onward.
He forced his hand to touch that polished copper doorknob. If nothing else, he had to accept that this event had happened in the first place. He had to see 'that' all over again.
"HAAAAAAH!!!!!" roared Alex as his hand was forced to touch the knob through the sheer pressure of his own will. All his years of training and effort seemed to fall away in an instant. All else that had once mattered only moments ago now meant next to nothing in the face of this truth. The light quickly absorbed him, and before that plain wooden door, he was laid bare. Time slipped away, and Alex lost himself in his past.
A young boy stood up on his tiptoes and placed his hand on the doorknob turning it slowly with fumbling fingers. The light from the other side filled his vision as he stepped through.
A woman clad in cracked, broken armor and dirty linens lays in the bed at the center of the room. Her left eye was covered with a bandage, and blood dripped steadily on the floor all around her. The woman struggled to turn and face the young boy who had just entered, and her face twisted in a look of pain before a faint smile was forced across her features.
With a warm and loving gaze, she held out a bloody hand to him, and he walked forward. Each step was slow and deliberate since the young boy hesitated to move closer. Still, the woman reached for him with that smile. Her face was bloody and bruised, and her eye was obviously missing and still bleeding. Burns covered the other parts of her that were exposed to the air. However, despite all the carnage, the young boy still knew who she was.
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The young boy finally reached her and squeezed her hand firmly. She mumbled something that was lost to him and she gave him that warm look again. A large hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder, and the young boy looked up to see his father, tears streaming down his face. The young boy couldn't have been older than three, yet even one as young as he could tell what these tears meant.
His own tears began to form in his eyes, and he squeezed the limp hand tighter with his own. He looked back towards the woman, only to see her gaze empty, and her eyes glassy and half-closed. A surge of sadness welled up inside the boy and with it, a bright flame of despair was born. He couldn't know it then, but it was at that moment that he had chosen his path.
With a flash of light, the young boy found himself much older and holding a long, bladed staff. Opposite him stood a powerful woman clad in red. She swung her Scal'tar with ease, twirling it with grace and skill. It was from her that the boy had learned the skills he would use to embark upon the path he had chosen years ago.
Endurance. Strength. Force of will. Speed. Accuracy. All these things and more she had taught him. Yet still, the boy never found himself before the door from his early days. He didn't lack courage for the most part, yet he could never bring himself to come before that door even with his newfound abilities. His master taught him discipline, yet he couldn't face his greatest pain.
Was that a failure on his part? The boy didn't know.
The Academy appeared next. He met another young man with striking features and black hair pulled back into a stylish display. He was skilled but very rough around the edges, however, he was trustworthy and honest despite being younger. The two sparred, fighting with everything save the intent to kill, and a strong friendship quickly formed between them before either of them could even realize it.
Perhaps they saw something in one another that they were missing in themselves. Perhaps they saw what they could become. Perhaps they saw an opportunity to reach the peak and stride proudly down their own paths. In any event, the two grew close in an astonishing amount of time and the flame within the young man grew brighter, stronger.
A flash of lightning left the young man gasping for breath and in pain. Darkness. A white room. Weeks of solitary recovery. However, his friend soon came to visit him and the young man could almost feel the guilt the black-haired boy felt. Forgiveness was not withheld and the young boy saw the accident as a trial. He had passed that hardship and his flame had grown brighter still.
Years passed, and anger rose in the young man. His friend had vanished without a word or even a goodbye. The young man knew that his friend was not dead, he could feel it. Although he was angry that he had been abandoned and cast aside. However, he let the flames of that anger and frustration burn brightly and used their heat to become stronger.
Still, he could not bring himself to open the door. Was he a failure now?
The abyss appeared once again. This time a pale white figure appeared and with him came the iron embrace of cold death. Helplessness. Powerlessness. Fragility. All his skills. All his abilities were worthless in the face of this absolute terror from an age long since passed. His flame wavered and almost went out in the face of that horror.
And yet…
He pulled through. He fought for his life in a hopeless battle that he could not possibly win, and that same wavering flame exploded into a wildfire that scorched everything in its path. His path.
A new course was revealed to him that day, but the threat of oblivion now lingered, adding fuel to the fire. It spurred him on and he once again grew stronger because of it. His life and his struggles were each a gift that would empower him to face even greater hurdles. He would overcome. But could he overcome his pain? Could he open the door?
He found himself standing before the door once again surrounded by a void of darkness. His hand was cold upon the polished copper. He had come this far. He had struggled, but it was still not enough. The door would remain closed for now. But progress was progress. He pulled back his hand and gazed at the simple wooden door.
He would one day conquer this hurdle too, but it was not this day. He fell back and his sight failed him as darkness consumed him once more.
He opened his eyes and found himself lying on a cold stone floor. A small torch faintly lit the area and beside him, Melodi was kneeling over him calling his name. He sat up and rubbed his throbbing head.
"What happened?" asked Alex. Melodi only shook her head. Worry was etched all over her face and all he could do was stare questioningly at her.