Wind

The Lady of the Tower of the Stars had taken him to the top of the tower. A room that seemed rather plain – having its only furniture a cushion in the center of the room for sitting in. And a green curtain hanging over one part of the curved wall that looked rather out of place in a room that was mostly meant for divining.

By the curtain was a rolled in cart that had some instruments on it. He pulled out the potions his sister had sent with him and handed it to the sorceress.

"Go ahead and sit down Ariwynd." She said as she set it down with the other instruments. "While I prepare you."

He sat down on the cushion, "You can call me by my first name. I know you know it after all. And you'll need to use it for the spell anyway." After this ritual and test he was planning on telling his Princess his name anyway – for part of what he would hopefully gain here was that it would be harder for others to use his name against him.

"Yes. It does require me to say your full name. I see you are not completely unaware of the ritual, Sylvanus."

"I'm a historian after all."

"Yes, you do have a passion for it – it's always nice to note the ways you are different from your father. A bit sad that your mind slips faster."

"Well, the burden came on my shoulders at an earlier age."

"That's not the only reason. The burden in many ways was relieved for your forefathers. Because the Crossroads is here, Xi'eli has allowed your curse to hit you full on."

He nodded. It was not much of a surprise to him – for until his mother had died his father had had very little in the way of the madness.

He waited patiently on the unageing woman to get the tools ready. Soon she was walking over to him, holding a bucket and a ladle.

She began a low chant – and he found himself listening to the words – a benediction. One that held power in it.

Water sloshed over his head, dripping down his hair into his eyes as she ladled water over his head, sprinkling him with it.

Then she walked back over to the table picking up a bundle of grass. This she ripped over his head, still saying the benediction. Finally she picked up the potion his sister had made and dumped it entirely on his head, it soaked in and he felt a shiver go through his entire body.

As she finished the benediction she called him by name, "Sylvanus Ariwynd Shadowstar, go through the veil, and until you have completed the test do not return."

Another involuntary shudder ran through his body but he stood up and headed for the green curtain. Drawing it back he gazed at a door – that was not even set entirely against the wall but stood straight up and down. It was not wooden, nor stone, but the material that made the door was such as he had never seen before.

He opened the door and stepped through, wondering quietly how long it would take him to make it through this. And not knowing quite what to expect.

It was wrong. All wrong. There was no life here. Nothing. It made his skin crawl. Even when he was in the caves of beginning he could feel life on the edge from outside of it. But here, there was nothing that he could feel.

It was almost like a part of himself was missing. There were no plants, no animals, no spirits. He had never felt so isolated before.

Not quite sure what he was supposed to be doing he started walking and as he did, visions assaulted him – immersing him in them – though he still felt no sign of life.

He saw armies clashing, people fighting – killing each other senselessly. The ground was utterly ravaged and all the races were at each other's throats. His throat tightened at the sight – for this was what was not supposed to be.

He saw those who wished to steal power for themselves performing dark rituals to satiate their own dark thirst. The creation of a curse that would make wraiths, binding them to the earth until the end of time.

There seemed no end of it. Dark scenes were thrust against his vision – some he had had an inkling to, some he did not understand.

As he watched, he felt his body trembling. It was all the worst because he knew he was seeing things that had happened – from before the kingdoms had formed. Before the old kingdoms had formed – he was seeing the nations that had existed before them, though truly nations was a strong word for what he was seeing – closer to tribes than to nations.

He clutched his arms to his chest, as his skin crawled and horror filled him at what he was seeing. A desire to run came over him but he did not. He wanted to scream out to make it stop but stomped the words down. No, it wouldn't help anything.

Instead of screaming or running, he mouthed the words to a prayer, which worked to calm him down as he continued to walk through the visions. As he walked, he began to feel just the tiniest hint of life somewhere – and if he had not been calm he might have missed it so faint it was. Relief flowed through him at the fact that he was not entirely alone here and he began moving towards where he could feel the pinprick of life. Curiously enough he could not identify what it was.