"Why did the High Commander decree the banishment of Averan powder, fair lady?" inquired Brad, his voice laced with curiosity.
The woman regarded Brad with eyes that carried the weight of ages, holding within them the echoes of profound history.
"Ah, Brad, it is a tale that spans time and space. Yet, permit me to pose but one query. Do you presently find yourself engulfed in a state of desolation? Weary to the core, mayhap?" Her words hung in the air, filled with a sense of foreboding.
With a heavy heart, Brad nodded, his gaze cast downward, unable to escape the weight of his exhaustion.
"That feeling shall grow more potent, my dear knight. It shall reduce you to fragments, leaving you adrift in a sea of confusion. For you have ventured into the very crossroads where two realms converge, and its consequences manifest tangibly within our own. Alas, the majority of souls, veiled in their ignorance, perceive Averan powder as naught but a trivial drug, offering them fleeting illusions. They are but shallow beings, their eyes unable to perceive the truth that lies beyond. Yet, I shall unveil the secret to you, Brad. Averan powder is naught but the essence of ashes, remnants from the enigmatic Hatt Realm, intricately intertwined with our own. It serves as the key that unlocks the gates where these two realms entwine, but solely for those whose eyes are touched by enlightenment. Now, dear Brad, do you possess knowledge of the origins of these sacred ashes?"
A faint glimmer of confusion flickered in Brad's eyes as he slowly shook his head, admitting his lack of understanding.
"From the mist-shrouded shores of the long-lost continent, Endrarun, these sacred ashes are gathered," she revealed, her voice carrying a tinge of melancholy. "From there, they embark upon a journey to Tyranny, their essence dispersed across the vast expanse of our world."
A profound sigh escaped her lips, laden with the weight of countless burdens.
"The Empire, driven by a burning fervor, amassed an army of two hundred and fifty thousand souls to exterminate the very source. Cursed be the Archmage Laneth, Illuen believed that the wizard king had unearthed a passage from the Pheone Continent leading to their discovery, concealed beyond the veils of mist... Alas, he was deceived. Nay, it was his supposed accomplices who played him as a pawn in their game, stringing him along until their own desires were fulfilled, only to abandon him, leaving no trace of their malevolence. The gods' sacred pact was shattered, forever altering the tapestry of our existence."
The elderly woman's lips curled into a sardonic smile, as if emerging from the depths of a reverie. "Forgive my meandering, Brad. To be succinct, Averan powder is treacherous. More precisely, those who fathom its true purpose are the ones who wield peril. They become the genuine addicts. It is a wellspring of power, yet its toll is exorbitantly high."
* * *
Initially contemplating ascending the stairs, Brad realized that the weighty door of his room would reverberate with clamor in the stillness of the night. Hence, he opted for the window, endeavoring to muffle any noise. With deliberate gestures, he unfastened the window adorned with a metallic frame, producing a faint, protesting creak.
Ascending onto the window ledge, Brad cast his gaze downward. The chamber he occupied loomed at a formidable altitude, surpassing thirty feet above the ground. The stone blocks lining the window's periphery protruded intermittently, creating niches. Assessing the situation, he surmised that scaling the wall would not prove excessively arduous.
Gripping the gaps between the cubic stones, he commenced his ascent. Despite his sinewy arms ablaze with fatigue, he made swift progress, climbing a level in a remarkably short span of time. Carefully maneuvering to the window's side, he tentatively extended his head inside. Sunlight pierced through the parting curtains, casting its rays into the room. Within, an elf with pointed ears, tresses of brown adorned with fiery streaks, sat in a cross-legged position, eyes tightly shut.
"Come forth, Asvelas, commune with me. Do you perceive his presence?" a voice entreated. It resonated with the timbre of Caleb's voice.
"Nay, the entity abides within this edifice. Its essence lingers close, yet veiled from my sight," the elven seer responded, his eyes sealed shut, enunciating in a listless and lethargic cadence.
"Indeed, I speak of that very being. I harbor trepidation, Asvelas. A seasoned sojourner or a pernicious specter lurks nearby, concealed from our gaze."
The strain in Brad's sinews burgeoned, burdening his arms with growing weariness.
"'Tis akin to... to an eternal clash betwixt two ethereal forces," Asvelas voiced, his tone trembling.
"Two spirits, you say?" Caleb sought clarification.
"Aye, albeit one diverges remarkably. It is of profound intricacy, whilst the other is simpler. Yet, within and without… they seem conjoined."
"Ah, you spin enigmatic webs, my companion. Yet, an inkling of comprehension stirs within," Caleb averred, his eyes ablaze with understanding.
At that precise moment, Brad's grasp faltered. His vision dimmed, and he endeavored to propel himself towards the window.
Caleb, attuned to the voice, hastened to the casement.
Summoning the last vestiges of strength, Brad clung precariously to the precipice of the window ledge, his fingertips gripping with desperate tenacity.
There, he glimpsed Caleb parting the swathing drapery. In the interlocking of their gazes, tension pervaded the atmosphere.
Then, gripped by panic, Brad relinquished his hold. He hurtled earthward, hurtling toward the jagged embrace of the rocky abyss below.