“Sydius, tell me of your travels. What pages have you unfurled? What dark corners of reality have you unearthed in your escapades?”

Asiah – Master Wizard at the Academy

I travelled North, through the ice plains. Through bare rock and snow I crept; past the Academy borders, past the seven caverns. Into the endless night, with only the eternal stars to light the way forward.

Barren and lifeless, the Northern realm is a true void. Elegantly designed to strip the soul of any wandering traveller, encouraging deep contemplation, and often, as I came near to it myself, insanity.

I was alone in this venture. The others back home could not know, because they would not understand. I had told them I was going West, on an expedition into the Ryzen forest, to study spectres and cats. My true quest was a product of mere ambition, ungrounded by the confines of any real perceivable outcome. Plausibility was of no concern to me, it was more the idea, that a soul as simple and as underdeveloped as my own could achieve such a feat. It was natural that the others would not understand, this was a vision, and visions can only be properly interpreted by their witness.

So, for seventy-two days I trekked the ice plains, following Auzard’s scriptures;

"Follow the stars of Osiris

Pierce your eyes beyond the veil of experience

Let go of all preconceived notions

and find real truth,

in all its indeciphereable forms"

But after seventy-two days, I had encountered no sign of my quest’s goal. ‘A perilous voyage running on blind faith’ I thought. The only thing that kept me going was the fear of turning back at the cusp of my journey.

My legs were weak, and so I collapsed at my knees at the sight of a Grand Aurora. Remembering Auzurd’s training, I listened to the sky.

In a beautiful dance of violet and green, it sang to the snow below.

Breathe. 

Deep. 

Flow. 

Wind. 

Sleep.

And I listened for hours, days, weeks, on my knees. The snow building around me, and planting my position as a part of the scenery.

This was no meditation, no teaching or ritual, but a rebirth. A divine moment of truth.

-

I cannot begin to describe to you, the significance of the following events, Asiah. For after three weeks, my mind was bare. Three weeks of an endless night, with the Grand Auroras singing overhead. And with only the sacred hymns taught to me by Auzurd, to keep my body from freezing into the ice.

It seemed as though, for my patience, the Auroras granted me a gift.

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On the twenty-first day, I opened my eyes. I was in disbelief to see the previously endless stretch of snow and sky, masked in a soft grey fog. With the faint indication of a sun hanging low to the horizon, and a small figure standing ahead of me, not far off in the same direction.

“Who goes there?” I cried.

But all I received back was the turn of the creature’s head towards me, and a short and brittle quack.

Standing to my feet for the first time in what felt like eons, I limped forwards.

Quack

It stood still as if waiting for me, and as I came closer it turned back around, signalling me onwards with its right flipper. I followed.

I was once again in a blind tribulation. What I had learned earlier was finally coming into play again. That we are clear when we stand still, and blind when we move forward, expanding our scope into uncharted territory.

At last we stopped. I stood closer as the creature raised its right flipper out again, pointing ahead. And after a brief moment, the fog parted, revealing an enormous open cavern of unexplainable proportion. Dotted with millions of creatures like my feathered companion

Could this be… The Oracles, guarding the entrance to the eternal caverns. I never expected to behold my eyes to such a sight, or to ponder such things in front of me. Why had they led me to it? What was it that they wanted me to see?

A short trek down the cliff face led me to the large cave entrance. A wide glacial hollow of deep blue greeted me. The light from the sun, refracting down in spirals of aqua and green, until it dissipated into the deep dark. A hollow ocean that I was about to enter.

It took hours of slipping down ropes and inclines, with nothing but a small burning torch to aid my sight. Reflections of my face against the dim light echoed down the halls. A true house of mirrors. A deep cold labyrinth.

At last, in a large opening from the twisted ice tunnels from before, my torch pierced through the veil of darkness and revealed unto me; Dragons.

Trapped in the ice, preserved for all eternity. Warriors of old, from ancient battles in even older wars. No one had ever seen what I was seeing now, or so I thought.

I walked close to the walls, observing each fallen warrior as if in a museum or library. Some were riddled with intricate working patterns of red and gold. Others with spirals of green and purple that stemmed from the eyes. A beautiful war paint, emanating naturally from a perfectly designed creature.

The halls stretched on for miles, in the form of thin twisted walkways and large open crevices. Among the Dragons were thousands of brass soldiers littered throughout the ice. They were suspended gracefully, as if they had drowned together, forever sleeping in a frozen sea.

It was eerie, but at the same time, peaceful and silent. These souls had no earthly worries to cloud their minds, they were now floating forever in harmony.

A rumble interrupted me as I went further down through the graveyard. A low bellow from the deep.

With fear in my eyes, but no lack of determination, I sought out the source of the sound.

As I moved further down into the depths, the ice grew more black.

I turned a corner, and for the first time in hours, felt a breeze, it froze me solid. The air drew inwards and back out again. Repeating, echoing around the ice.

A breath.

Gradually it formed into a bellow, and a rumble, and then a voice, blasting out from the darkness;

“Who dares to wake me from my slumber.”

I raised my torch, revealing the source.

Osiris, Lord of the Dragons

Slayer of Thousands

Ancient Wizard of the Arcane Arts

Older than the dawn of time

His body was frozen solid in the ice, leaving only his head and a small portion of his neck exposed. He stretched it upwards like a snake, filling the entire cavern with his presence. Looking down again he spoke, and even in a calm tone, his voice thundered.

“Speak, mortal. Who are you and why have you come here?”

Carefully, I responded, my voice stuttering initially. “I… I come in search of answers. A clarification of past events if you will.”

Osiris drew his gaze closer, the black horns making themselves more prominent, as well as the coarse trails of red and white that ran beneath his scales.

“And what is it that you seek to be clarified? Archaic alchemical wisdom? The unearthed secrets of Siah and the Timeless? Or perhaps, how to live a life, unbound by the conditions of your own skin…”

I was quick to respond. “The battle, I wish to know more about the battle on the ice…”

Osiris took a moment to ponder before refraining from his interrogation. He slithered back towards his wall.

“Curious. A lowly apprentice travels for months through the ice plains, down into the Guardian Cliffs, and through the cold blue deep of the Grave, all in search of a lesson in history. Perhaps I have misjudged your character.

Very well.

You will have your lesson, but on one condition. You will never again mention my name or my whereabouts to any soul.”

I agreed and sat down against the ice with open ears…