The Start of an Adventure!
In the beginning....
A young man, looks of someone in his early to mid twenties awakes in a dark room unfamiliar to him. A trickle of light dances off around a corner, he cant make much out as his eyes have yet to adjust. Waking in the dark, eyes and mouth dry, the floor he lays on is ice cold. He places a hand to the floor in attempt to lift himself up. He feels weak, enough strength to move his arm but a long shot from enough to lift his own weight, he collapses back to the floor. The cold chill feels like it is saping the little energy and strength he has left in him so he attempts to call out. His attempts end in failure as his throat is too dry to let anything besides breath escape. Thinking to himself he must still be dreaming, this cant be real, when he last fell asleep it was in his home with his long time girlfriend in his arms and his dog curled up at his feet in his warm bed.
Realization hits him hard, so hard he can almost feel it like a kick to the teeth. That wasnt the last time he fell asleep. Wasnt even close, he wasnt sure how long, but it has been a long while. Everytime he wakes, he wakes the same. Weak, thirsty, hungry, and believing it must be a dream. He hears footsteps approaching and a shadow cast along the wall the small light illuminates. The memories rushed back now, this has been going on for way longer then he would care to of lived through. He was ready to die. Everytime he woke, a man in a hooded cloak would bring him a thick cold drink. At first he refused, then it became apparent that is the only thing they would be offering him, besides the chains holding him to the wall and the cold floor.
The hooded man approached him again, crouching in front of him, in a deep but soft voice he spoke. "Drink this and become one with this world." The man sat the drink down and reached to the young man. Grabbing him under his arms the hooded figure lifted the young man to a sitting position and leaned him against the wall as he always done. Lifting the mans hand, the hooded figure placed the cup in his hand. The floors chill had nothing on the bitter cold of the cup. It was a different chill though, invigorating, full of energy, and a promise of escape. The young man thought to himself, how could a cup posses the ability to make me feel this way. The hooded figure sat down in front of the young man, something he hasn't done before. "I am sure you have questions. The answers will probably not be what you want, but we will have answers. They may not come in the time you wish, but we will have answers." Adjusting himself for better comfort the hooded figure paused for a moment then continued. "This is the last day of your binding. Drink, and in short time you will be unleashed upon this world."
As the hooded figure gestured to the drink, the man looked at what was in the cup. It was a bluish-gray thick liquid, like he always recived. He expected the same as the countless other times he gave in to salvation and drank. Expecting shortly after consumption, his mind would begin to wander on it's own, things he could of never thought of rushing into his mind. Memories that wernt his, knowledge that wasnt his to access. Then a fade to darkness and a feeling of his collapse back onto the cold hard floor to sleep until the next time. He then recalled what the hooded figure had said, this would be the last. Maybe it was poison, his want for life lingered, but a need for a way was more of a need. This could be his was. With slight hesitation he glared at the drink, then chugged it to the last drop. His path presented itself and he was going to take it.
The room started to brighten from behind the hooded figure. The young man wondered if this was from the drink, was it the light at the end of the tunnel that everyone spoke of when concerning death? The light continued to brighten, the room was clear to see now. His chamber of stone, with one small entry way with nothing blocking him from exit aside the shackle and chain holding him to the wall that he never even had the energy to attempt to free himself of. The lights had almost become too much to bare, he raised his hand to sheild his squinted eyes. He hadn't seen anything in who knows how long his first glimpse wasnt gonna be swindled away by dry, unadjusted eyes if he could help it. Then he felt it, a surge of energy shot through him. He played with the thought of trying to speak, but he knew last time he tried it failed and drove him into a even deeper feeling of captivity. The hooded man still sat in front of him. The young mans shackle showed little slack, he was almost to its edge of reach. The hooded man sat just outside of everything the young man could reach, even body fully extended. A shadow covered most of the hooded figures face, aside from a small corner of his mouth and his chin. The young man could see the corner start to raise, was the figure starting to smile?
The hooded man stood to his feet, and removed his hood. Gray hair flowed down to his shoulders, eyes dull green, a milky gray wanting to take over, and sure enough a smile shined on his face. Unremarkably stright clean white teeth for a man with as much age as his face told, he had to be atleast eighty. "You wished for light, to see what you need to see. To see who holds you, where you are held. To see yourself. Others have wished death, upon me, upon theirselves. Others have wished for freedom, for the shackles to be gone, to be back at home, in their meaningless lifes." The old man preached more then spoke. He preached as if delivering a message of new life, a new found hope. The young man didnt understand how to feel of the situation he was in now. Was light to see what he had wished more then anything? How could he crave death to escape and attain freedom from his captivity as he had, but wished for light? The old mans words betrayed the young mans feelings and thoughts. His words created doubt, and gave hope.
Hope was the last thing the young man wanted at this time, but what he most needed. He just wanted his torment to be over with, at whatever means would mean a quick end. He has been rationed just enough to keep alive, put through mental torments he never could of considered possible. Over and over he was spun through a wringer of impossibilities, broken time after time. Never having enough strength in him but to breath and barely move his limbs, frozen from the coldness of the floor he was confined to, and the icey liquid that kept him alive. Pushed to the limits of longing for death, to have the only option one he could not come to end by, starvation and dehydration, not when they always provided a fix for the most primal of needs. Now he was full of hope that it was truly the end, but it wasnt poison they had given him, if it was, it was slow working. He fully expected to be dead by now. His stomach churned, growling for real food but wanting to up heave all of its contents. The young man let the hope swell up in him and asked in a soft weak voice "How long?" The old man looked at him with a smile still gleaming on his face. "How long till it kills me?" The young man asked letting his head hang low. The old mans smile vanished and he tilted his head. "Hopefully never." He answered, then continued "What is going to kill you?" The young man looked up, and for the first time attempted to stand, and much to his surprise it was easily accomplished. For the first time he noticed he was wearing nothing but a robe. The thick fabriced dark blue robe hung down to his ankles and smelled of urine. He guessed that made sense as he had no memory of using the bathroom anytime recently.
As the young man stood across from the old man they looked each other in the eyes. The young man began to speak. "I assumed since you said this was my last, that this was poison. That my torture and imprisonment were finally coming to the end I began to beg for." The young man took advantage of being able to finally move and tested his legs to find surprisingly they were comfortable with the long forgotten act of walking. "Tell me old man, who are you? Where am I? Why am I here?" The young man demanded, emotion starting to bare. The old man watched in wonder as the younger man showed his emotions, tears were starting to form on the young mans cheek. "Those are the most important question, are they not" the old man asked, but not giving pause for a answer. "You probably do not wish to hear this, but they are the ones hardest to answer, or I am not currently able to tell. For me, I am but a old man. For where, I can just tell you we are not on the land you know to be home." The old man paused, placed a finger to his chin and appraised the emotions of the young man, then he continued. "As to why, that is the answer that would being you the most distraught. It is a tale you must tell though. Or should I say, one for you to write yourself. For you are all but a king in this land." The old man flicked his hand towards the young mans shackled ankle, with a clatter the shackle fell to the ground, still fully clasped shut. He then turned and left the room, pausing before taking the step through the rooms only exit. "There is water to clean yourself, and a new outfit beyond this door. Take your time, seek me when you finish taking care of yourself. There is much for you to do." Then he vanished from sight.
The first step is taken
The young man waits in wonder, thoughts running wild through his mind. The one to the forefront, what is going on? Figuring no answers will come from standing here any longer, and feeling disgusted due to his urine soaked clothes he headed for the exit to of his old prison. Upon exiting the room he was faced to a small room with a oil lantern lighting it from the corner, he noticed the room behind him went compleatly dark again. The room he now stood in seemed like freedom compared to what he had suffered in the recent times, still unsure how long he been there. It could of been a few hours, days, weeks, who knows it could of even been years. Off in a corner stood a shoulder high divider with wooden barrel behind it, accompanied by several dark colored clothes he assumed were ment to be used as rags. A waist high table about four feet long ran along the wall to the other side, inbetween stood a very aged wooden door. Taking notice of what was on the table he seen a dark blue robe and a pair of what looked to be hand made cotton pants folded neatly ontop. Next to the sat a small bowl full of something white and fluffy accompanied by something about 4 inches long and dull silver. He approached the table and looked over it, the full silver item was a straight edge razor, unfolding it he seen the blade was a shiny clean silver with a sharp edge, so the bowl must of been shaving cream. He looked over the clothes to see if they contained anything else within but nothing else to find his eyes shifted to the wall in front of him. There set onto the wall was a mirror, the face he seen in it shocked him. His dark brown hair had grown several inches from his short cut he always kept, it was a true mess in his eye. His beard had grown aswell a couple inches. He must of been there for quite a while. He always kept clean shaved for his office job he worked back home.
He really did enjoy having the beard, he always wanted to grow one but his job didnt permit it. Feeling this way, he knew he still had to shave it. There wasnt a way to clean his face from what had to of been two or more months through his beard. He slapped the shaving cream all over his face, it smelled strongly of mint and felt refreshing on his skin. He proceeded to shaving with the straight edge left for him, stripped of his clothes and tossed them as far as he could into his old prison. The further that foul smell the better. He scrubbed himself over and over till he felt as clean as he could get. There wasnt anything he could really do about his hair at the time besides wash it after it was cleaned he kind of liked the way it looked. Using the left over dry clothes he dryed himself and dressed. He approached the wooden door almost expecting it to be locked in one way or another, it freely swung open with a light push.
The young man, now clean and shaved poked his head through the doorway and glanced around. The door lead to a narrow passage just a few feet wide. Behind the door was another stone wall, so he followed his only path to the other side. The path had no source of light, but it never grew dark, a faint light always seemed to illuminate the area he was at. The path was fairly short and lead to another wood door, this time it looked quite solid and new. He pushed it open and seen the old man waiting at a rather extravagant looking wooden table. The old man sat in a chair fit for a king, a chandelier hung over head with several oil lamps lighting the room brightly. The table was lined with a feast, meats, breads, cheeses, vegetables, and even a few pies. Cups made of gold sat on the table, one at each chair placed. For a table this large, there was only four chairs counting where the old man sat. Guestering to the seat across from him mid table the old man spoke "Please come sit, we can speak. I'm sure you are hungry." The old man waited for the young man to sit before continuing. "I have a couple other people of importance to this situation coming. I do hope you dont mind, if you do I can do nothing to help that though. Help yourself to whatever you wish, no need to wait." The old man smiled.
The young man looked over all the food in front of him, his stomach twisted in a mighty growl. He was starved, he thought of manners then excused them thinking back on his imprisonment. He reached over the table grabbing food by hand when there wasnt anything readily avalible to dish it with and piled his plate high with food. "What is your name old man?" The young man asked setting back down with his mountain of food piled in front of him. Starting to shove food into his mouth devouring it as fast as he could with slight glances up to the old man waiting for an answer. The old man began to speak "That is a question I have not heard in a long while. I am known by many names. My name though is Vayne. Honestly, you will probably be the only person alive to know me by that name. All the others have died a long time ago. In the company of the other who will join us I must ask you only refer to me as Master though."
A man and a woman entered the room shortly after he finished speaking, before the young man could ask anything else. They approached the ends of the table opposite to one another where the other two chairs stood. With a deep bow from both and a simultaneous "My lord" they both took a seat. Vayne stood from his chair, and the young man took notice. For a moment he stopped eating to get a feel for what was going on and to look at the new comers. The man and woman shared similar facial structures and both hand long black straight hair reach down to their shoulders. With their sharp features, the man was everything that would be considered handsome, and the woman everything that would be considered beautiful. With a hand held towards the young man, Vayne drew attention to himself and the young man. "I introduce our newest guest of this world, Rykar." Vayne took his seat again. Rykar looked shocked, how did this man know his name? The woman spoke up "I am Terra, and he is my brother Torren. The Master is our father. We have been asked to help you get your bearings before you take your leave."
Rykars suspicions of the two being related was right, but he hadn't expected the old man to be their father. They looked to be in their twenties, he was far too old for children of their age. Finishing up his plate of food Rykar gave his full attention to those at the table. "Tell me, why am I here, and where is here exactly?" Asked Rykar. Torren spoke up this time "You are here to save us. We dont know the true nature of the threat, but we know you will be the one to save us. Now, the here part is harder to explain. Where we are is very defined to us. To you, you most likely wouldn't have a clue. We are connected to your home, Gaia. We are however very far disconnected from your home Earth." He paused a moment to see if Rykar followed. Without actual understand he followed, and waited expecting further explanation. Torren continued "Gaia and Earth are on in the same, yet exist on two separate levels. Earth is connected to Gaia, and to space. Gaia is connected to earth, and time. You are on a different plane of time from Gaia now. We used the connection of time to remove you from Gaia. We still exist on Earth though. We have the same connection to space as Earth, but our plane connected to time is called Tellus. Civilization advances at different rates, is in different stages depending on which plane you are on." Torren reached over to a plate of meat and started filling his plate, Terra had already filled her plates and started to eat. Rykar sat in silence trying to take in what he was told.
"Say I do buy what you tell me. I'm not anyone to save anything or anyone. I really just want to return home. If I was someone to save you, why would I want to help since you are the ones who removed me from my life I enjoyed very much?" Rykar asked of them all. Vayne looked over them all "Its probably not what you wish to hear, but your time in my keep is close to a end. We do not ask of you to do this. We force you into our world, and know you will make your own choices. To obtain what you wish will take you on the proper path needed. We have a few things to help you on your way, but we offer no further help. After we all finish our meal, Terra and Torron will see you to what you require and set you on your way." Rykar decided to take his fill and eat what more he could. He was ready to leave, and from the sounds of it he would leave with more then he has now, and on a full stomach. He was all for the idea. They finished eating in silence, and when everyone had their fill the siblings led Rykar out of the room.
The two led Rykar through halls, up one set of stairs to go down another at a different point. The path soon turned into a maze, it was a wonder these two knew the way by memory. They walked mostly in silence till Rykar spoke up. "You know if I wasnt ready to leave here I would have alot more question for you two. It seems you guys truly believe what you say though. Might you beable to point me in a direction that can lead me home when you finally get me to the door?" Terra looked him over and found him to be quite attractive. "It is a shame we must send you on your way I could enjoy your company. Maybe even take you in marriage but we must do what we must do. For a way home, we dont even know if it's possible. The efforts it took to get you here were very taxing on everyone involved. I'm sure it wont help to set you to do the right thing, but twelve great warlocks died to get you here. Self sacrifice to perform the ritual. You are the first one that actually consumed their souls upon you being brought here. They all survived all the others we have pulled through, and none of the others pulled through have never been unshackled while still alive. You are very special. It is a real shame we can not teach you." She told Rykar. They reached a door leading outside, and off to the left stood a smaller building. Looking up Rykar realized he just stepped out of a very large stone castle surrounded by a very strong and tall wall of smooth surfaces stones. Probably be impossible to climb without proper climbing gear. A large gate that stood all of fifty feet tall separated the inside from the outside of the wall. They siblings led him to the smaller building and opened the wooden double barn style doors, inside waited a small covered wagon, with a single large black horse covered in leather armor attached to the front. "This is for you, we have coins for you. There is a stock of dry meats and breads in the wagon, along with plenty of water, and some wines for times you find yourself longing for something else. You will leave here very wealthy in this world." Terra told Rykar. Torron walked to the back of the wagon, and returned shortly after with a sheathed sword. "This sword is made with remarkable skills. Terra is on of the best blade makers in this world, you will hardly ever find better. If you do never pass it up. You should have all the knowledge from the medicine of how to use a sword, but you must figure out how to access it yourself. Live well Rykar." Torron turned and walked back to the castle. "My brother gives my work too much praise. The horse is trained well. The wagon should be easy to drive even for a child with Gilgamesh at the lead. You must set out quickly. One more night here and your mind will collapse on itself and you will go mad. I will find you one day, and we shall enjoy each others company. Hop on, and I'll open the gate for you. Go quickly now." Terra leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then turned and walked out towards the gate.
Rykar placed the sword onto the bench of the wagon, and climb on himself. Looking into the back he seen several small sealed barrels, and corked golden jugs. A bedroll played in the center and it looked like the most comfortable bed to a man who had spent a couple months unconscious on a cold stone floor. He figured this wagon would be his new home for awhile from the looks of things. Grabbing the reigns in both hands and giving a sigh he shook the reigns. "Let's go Giglamesh." The horse started forward and headed right to the gate stopping next to Terra. She flicked her hand from the bottom of the gate gesturing up and noisily it began to raise. "The horse is smart Rykar. Your thoughts can control him more then your actions. Your mind is very powerful. Live well Rykar. I look forward to when we meet again." She gave Giglamesh a stern pat and he led the wagon out the gate which instantly closed as the wagon cleared.
Rykar and Giglamesh entered to a dirt road leading to nowhere to be seen. Without a clue of where to go or what to do, these are the first steps of his journey. When he goes now he knows not. Trying what Terra said he made a suggestion to Giilgamesh to take him to wherever he could, and off they started.