Aiyan

Listen forth to the tale of Aiyan Eldera. A human from the outer reaches, son of Lord Eldera and Lady Meladie. He lived a normal childhood, deep in the mountains where his father and mother had long since retreated from city life. He was not burdened by his lack of education, he could neither read nor write the languages of Darkstone. He sought pleasure deep within the treacherous mountains, forever pushing himself beyond his own limits. Some would even say he had a certain disdain for his own life, clearly prepared to sacrifice it for that one last thrill. The beasts of the mountain held no threat to him, his skill with a sword was sufficient to fend off the mountain beasts and the more dangerous creatures that dealt in the region had become accustomed to him.

Aiyan was ignorant, raised in solitude with little to no interaction with anyone beyond his parents. He knew little of magic, only what tall tales his father would tell him after some ale. Stories of great Sorcerers challenging the gods themselves, Necromancers summoning forth the spirit and body of those gone before and Enchanters creating artefacts renowned throughout the realm. Stories however, were all they were to Aiyan who lived a life forever grounded in the present.

It is with a certain irony that Aiyan sought his path only after an event which skewed him and twisted his very mind to the edge of madness. For Lord Eldera was a skilled smith, his work renowned even amongst the Dwarves as being "not bad for a human". So it would be that Lord Eldera was approached by a Warlord, hell-bent on taking the nearby villages. He sought weapons by which his warriors would be feared. Lord Eldera refused, citing both his actions and creations had spilt enough blood. The Warlord did not take refusal well, sending a detachment of some of his finest assassins and his most trusted mage, a necromancer of notable power.

They struck in the night, while Aiyan lay asleep in his bed. Lady Meladie was slain, pierced through the heart by a stiletto dagger as she slept. Lord Eldera awoke before the assassins turned their lethal gaze to him. He looked upon his slain wife and roared with rage, taking up his sword and battled his way out to the front of the cabin. Lord Eldera slayed many of the warriors numbers until all but a few stood dead beneath his feet. However, years of inactivity had dulled his senses as the Necromancer summoned forth magic and used it to strike Lord Eldera down. He drew his very life from him, his son watching horrified from the doorway as he saw the very essence of his father being devoured.

Perhaps out of malice, or more likely out of pity. The necromancer and the remainder of his men left. Aiyan was left surrounded by the dead, as he rushed to his father. He touched his cheek and withdrew it hastily, as a bitter cold rushed up his hand. There were no tears, only rage at that which caused his fathers demise. Not rage at the Necromancer, whom Aiyan saw only as the user. His hate like a lens magnified against the tool itself. He looked upon magic as his one true enemy. He would see it destroyed, decimated so that his father could be remembered. A fitting tribute.

Aiyan left home, daring the plains which surrounded his home. It was here he met "The Fallen". They were Knights who had turned their back on the ideals and beliefs which defined them as such. They bore the title only out of a twisted respect, they were not particularly bad men so much as they were morally unburdened. They took Aiyan amongst them, accepted him as one of them. They taught him the ideals which they had derived from those of the Knight. They taught him that everything is a means to an end. That occasionally good people must suffer for a better resolution. They honed his skills, teaching him the arts of smithing and swordplay. Aiyan became a young man and an excellent combatant, his enthusiasm for battle was well noted amongst his peers.

Fate dealt a sly hand. Aiyan was travelling alone through a valley pass, having heard rumours of a Wizard whom made his home there. He wished to see magic destroyed and he created an image in his head of the wizard, tall and menacing, feasting upon the flesh of those the magic he called upon had sapped of life. He thought of him as a guardian of magic and as such Aiyan would see him changed or slain, either way was acceptable to Aiyan. Thus it was he came upon the home of the wizard, deep within the valley. He saw the wizard, outside of his cabin tending to a small herb garden and was shocked. The figure he saw was old and looked harmless, bent over his herbs and slightly hunched, idly humming a tune to himself.

Aiyan approached the wizard and announced his intentions, that the Wizard must give up the way of magic or surrender his life. The wizard seemed more shocked than scared of Aiyan's brash announcement and did something Aiyan did not except. He inquired as to why the young man in front of him sought so desperately to end the life of one he had never met before. Piece by piece, the Wizard prised the story from Aiyan. Having learned the truth and sending that his own time was nearing, he agreed to give up magic if Aiyan would allow him to cast one more spell. Aiyan agreed, the Wizard simply smiled and nodded. He then placed his hand on Aiyan’s chest and a small jolt of energy shot up around his arm, embedding itself deep with Aiyan and his very soul.

Darkness consumed Aiyan, days, perhaps even weeks passed. Eventually Aiyan awoke, he found himself in a small room lying upon a soft bed. He had been stripped to his undergarments and his armour had been placed on a chair next to him. He felt light headed and slightly queasy. He put his armour back on and feeling less exposed explored the small hut he was in. He discovered that it was the hut of the Wizard who he had spoke with, who was nowhere to be found. Slightly bewildered, Aiyan decided to make his way back to the plains to his kindred.

Therefore it came as a sizable shock to Aiyan to step outside and see the world glow as if encompassed in a wave of colour. He blinked his eyes several times, shaking his head. Thoughts of a cruel joke by the Wizard rushed through his mind. He could feel something, something dreadfully familiar. He had felt it once before as it had drained the life from his father. He felt it within him now, beating like a second heart. The Wizard had awoken him to magic! He was encompassed by it now, a prisoner to it.

Madness overtook him as he took to the familiar mountains, he ventured deep within the caves. He lived off the land, scavenging what he could and surviving off whatever nature would give him. He sought to blind himself to the world, many a time he raised his dagger to his wrist, willing himself to end it. He cursed at himself, muttering madly as he realized he was too much of a coward. Time passed, the band of Knights he travelled with assumed him dead. Those who knew him forgot him and his name came but another whisper on the wind.

Yet he lived on. In time he came to explore his curse, he wished to learn of its nature. He was not satisfied enough to merely use it, he wished to understand it. As an assassin would know his enemy before eliminating them. He learnt of its nature, learnt to read the intricate flows it cast upon the world. It was this way he came to knowledge that not even great sages could match. His understanding of the spirit of magic so great that if he closed his eyes, he could feel the very heart of the universe.

Time changes many things; Aiyan's perception was one of them. The lessons he had learnt, that occasionally some must suffer for the better good. He believed it with all his soul. He no longer wished to destroy magic, he wished to change it. He wished to make the universe itself perfect so no other must experience what he had to. He was prepared to suffer, to try to become one with the universe itself and allow himself to be consumed by it. He had the means and the will to change the very essence of being. The gods take note of such people.

The tale ends here; all that can be told is that Aiyan has been seen again. Those who have met his company again described him as being detached from the world around him and in position of an eerie foresight. He walks the world as if looking upon it from far away, seeing the flow and pulse of being. He has displayed acts of magic that brings even the greatest mage to awe, thus they call him the Spellblade Aiyan, whom sought to change the world. Perhaps, he will succeed.

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