It was a mere 300 years since the last of the Asumati were destroyed. Yet, looking through the inn's window at the festivities before him Korin couldn't believe they had anything to do with the Great War. The celebration unfolding before him had more to do with flashers bursting in the air; charlatans selling toys at extravagant prices or raising false hopes of passersby to win a prize by playing games. Some market venders were taking advantage of the crowded streets to peddle their wares and these competing with a few magic wielders entertaining crowds for coin. This last group was what drew Korin's interest the most. He chuckled almost scornfully that magic could be used in such a way. But it was a time of peace, and had been for a long time. Magic the likes of which he was familiar with had not been seen in a long time.
He eventually turned away, unable to witness how far the human race had fallen any longer. Korin tapped his palm on the counter then waved away the innkeeper's daughter when he realized she thought he wanted a drink.
"Where has Itsep gone on to?"
It wasn't like him to be late, especially on a festival night.
"I've been waiting for a few hours at least..."
"Korin," said a female voice from behind him, "is that you?"
As Korin turned to face the speaker he barely had any time to register the long slender blade the woman held before it pierced him just below his lower rib. He tried to grab for his longsword but his hand seemed frozen in place. The blade must be magical!
The woman came closer to Korin's ear as he began falling forward off his chair. "Thank Itsep for me. He was very helpful in telling me where to find you."
"Who--who are you?"
Catching him and holding him up, she answered. "I am the nightmare that haunts your dreams. I am the one who teaches fear, shapes your dread, and grows when your light fades. You know who I am, for you killed my brothers: and now I repay that debt. I am The Forgotten One, and we are not few. Goodbye Korin Tiliûn."
She pulled the blade free and Korin felt heat spreading from the wound. Grabbing his sword from his sheath he looked up and saw the woman walking away casually, he tried to call out to those around him, but no words could form through the froth in his mouth. The one who had called herself The Forgotten One faded from view as Korin's vision slowly turned black.
--- ~~~ ---
Esmeralda, Devin's daughter, was busy tending her father's bar on festival night when a handsome elf with a small scar across one eye sat at on a stool across the counter and ordered a tankard of ale that he didn't seem too keen on drinking. She returned to her duties and forgot the man, perhaps only hoping for a brief moment that such a man might one day sweep her away from this inn and take her on an adventure.
She later returned to refill his tankard when he tapped the counter with his palm but he had waved her away. Soon after he had turned from the stool and took a half-stumbling step toward the door before stopping as if frozen in thought. She went to go clear away the cup and prepare it fresh for more customers on such a busy night, not giving much thought to the clearly drunk man, when she realized the cup had barely been sipped from. She looked up to where the man remained frozen as still as a statue and thought she saw his lips move before some sort of foam began spilling from his mouth and he collapsed to the floor still seemingly frozen in the same position. His hand halfway to his sword. His once olive skin a stony grey.
--- ~~~ ---
A short distance to the South--passing through the gate that divided Lower Ganint from the wealthier Upper Ganint--lay another body, this one belonging to Itsep Swallowtail, another elven man who had participated in the Great War. His body lay in an awkward crouched postion huddling against the railing of a nobleman's second-floor balcony. His expression was a vibrant one. The only sign of death being a complete lack of motion; and grey, cold skin. He was not alone on the balcony, for several friends had come looking for him, as he was missed at the party happening on the floor below. Around his body gathered a woman dressed in a flowing green robe and two men. One man in all black ornamental chainmail, the other wearing a rather thin shirt against the cold night air and carrying a staff.
Looking down at Itsep's face it was the woman who spoke first, "he was afraid, you can see it in his face."
"Yes, and he appears to have known his attacker, or, at the least, he would have brought his daggers to bear," growled the voice of the mail-clad figure.
"He may not have had time Doragan," said the other man, "as far as I can tell his death involved magic... magic that has not been seen for nearly three centuries."
"You don't mean Asumati magicks?" came the woman's surprised reply.
"They would be the only ones who could use petrification magic, as we see here, in all my research."
Doragan was none to happy, "are you suggesting what I think you are?"
"Unfortunately, I believe I am, I think we may have missed a few of our targets."
"Bethel, this means we will need help. No human is strong enough or prepared enough in this age and we elves grow faint with our own magicks."
"Sinyra, calm yourself, I'm more concerned that this one seems to be targetting those that could kill it. I don't think finding a changeling will be that hard, and our magic is not gone. It's more a question of how much time The Council has to find this creature while it seems to be hunting us."
"I am calm. I just don't think we can do what we were capable of 300 years ago. At least, not since the Closing." Sinyra said, but staring at Itsep's face, frozen in fear as it was, she felt far from calmed.
Bethel looked out over the city spread before them. Ganint was a sight to behold, especially now with the various colored lights bursting in the sky. He felt a small tug toward the lower city, near the docks.
"Doragan, you and Sinyra should meet me at The Council's hall in a few days time. I have a feeling Sinyra's 'help' is closer than we think; but I must verify it is so. Doragan, will you call the councilors?"
"Yes my Lorde, I will. All will be ready in two-day's time."
"Very well. Farewell my friends." And with that, he vanished.
"Doragan, do you really believe the Asumati have returned?"
"Perhaps, perhaps not. I believe that whatever it is, we will be able to deal with it in short order. Shall we rejoin the party?"
"I think we should, but allow me to send young Itsep to his rest. Then you must inform the other Coucilor's of his Lordship's call. And, I think, we should tell the others of our findings, we are not all of Itsep's friends." reaching out her hand she touched the cold skin of Itsep's forehead. A bright light showed briefly from her fingertip before Itsep's body slowly turned to petals and drifted on the night's breeze from the balcony, shining slightly in the light of the world of Remial's two moons.