Prelude

[Lunever]

I wrote s short intro story that might be used for a custom dungeon idea I'm currently thinking about. Yet, since I'm not a native English speaker I'd be glad if someone could make me aware of a couple of errors that are probably to be found in there.



It had been quite a while since he had returned from the Forge of FulYa. He was meditating in silent contemplation, feeling the warm rays of the sunrise on the summit of Mt. Anaias in some distant corner of his being. "It is easier to think than not to think" was one of the most important things he had to learn in regard to meditation. Yet even after all this time of learning to master meditation today he felt some inner unrest that was hard to accurately pinpoint.
His thoughts welled up unasked for during meditation more often recently. His intuition told him that severe changes were imminent. Sitting on the summit he fealt past and future flow into one another, especially now that he was all in all rather relaxed because the training lessons taught by the Grey Lord had become less frequent. In the past he had often dreamt of the day he would finally have his archmaster initiation celebration, and after it the wedding with Veyla he'd been longing for so long. He knew very well that he had achieved archmasterhood way back. All that was still missing was the final and formal celebration. Of course, right after having learnt the final secrets and mysteries that enabled him to be a true archmaster, he had to undertake the dire quest of descending into hell once more and ascending to the Forge of FulYa, and of course there had been neither any time nor any inclination for a celebration in these dark times. Later he didn't press the issue because he assumed that his master would need some time to recover from Chaos' recurrence. But now that a considerable amount of time had passed still his master didn't bring up that issue again. It's been said that the the final step of truly becoming an archmaster could not be taught, but only be understood by one's self. Didn't the quest for the corbums qualify for that? What was his master waiting for? Was this another, a final lesson, that he would have to understand that the important thing was to be an archmaster, not to hold such as a title? How long would he have to wait until he was considered to have understood that in the depths of his heart? Or was the lesson that no one could make him an archmaster and he would have to do the final step by himself and declare himself archmaster rather than be declared? Or would the latter be the ultimate failure showing him to be unworthy of being called an archmaster? Was he to let pride humbly go, or was he to assume independant responibility of his actions to prove his worth? Was proving his worth an issue at all?
A distant corner of his mind told him that some time ago he had heard the silent, gentle rush of feathered wings. He receded from his trance and turned his gaze outward again. He felt Fulcrums sharp claws subtly yet noticably pierce his the fabric of his tunic and call out "Theron! Theron!" with his coarse raven voice.
That probably meant his master was about to summon him. Would he today provide answers to Theron's doubts? There was but one way of finding out. He floated into the caves of Mt. Anaias and found his master sitting in his large chair in front of the table, where Theron and the Gray Lord supped, and played chess, and debated ancient philosophies.
"Theron, it is good that you have come here right now, for I think we have to discuss an important matter." Theron felt his pulse accelerating. Would he finally be allowed to begin a new chapter in the book of his life?
"Certainly after all these years you have served me so well, you may have wondered when you will finally released, free to make your own life, haven't you?"
"Yes master, that thought had occured to me", Theron admitted.
"You know that I'm always trying to make decisions in your best interest, don't you?"
"Of course master, your decisions are always carry the intention of doing the best for all living beings around us."
"Ach Theron, you know very well people say that the path to hell is paved with good intentions. Yet despite my compassion for all living beings I have failed to act in their best interest."
Was he ashame of the past deeds of the parts of him that were and were not himself? "Master," Theron began to protest, but was silenced by a wave of the Grey Lord's hands.
"Have patience Theron and let me explain. After all, I can assume a true archmaster has learned patience, doesn't he?". A true archmaster - Theron felt that he would get some answers this day after all and felt silent.
"You know as well as I do that there is not much left that you can learn by being taught, even by me. Yet there is a reason I withheld the final and formal honour for your dedicated work for me."
The Grey Lord intense gaze rested for an eternal seeming moment upon Theron. "Theron, once there'd be a true archmaster here, I will have no choice but to ask such a person for a great and dangerous task that can not be postponed forever"
"Master, I've followed you through fire and storm, through death and darkness before. I will not waver from this path, not now, not ever. Send me where you need me to send, and after that I shall be ready to complete the path."
"Ach Theron, despite all you have suffered, you have not lost the eagerness of youth. I'm glad to see that. Yet you do not yet understand what I'll be asking for". He paused for a moment. "Theron, it's him again, he's still there". The pain in the Grey Lord's face told Theron about whom he was speaking. "But master, Theron interrupted, He cannot have survived the implosion of the Forge of FulYa".
"Theron, don't you understand that He cannot die, not as long as I exist. He and Librasulus are me, as long as I exist, They will exist".
"Yes master, I know that, but I thought They have been reintegrated into your being when that wave of Mana absorbed into the Corbum Pillar was released."
"They did", the Grey Lord replied, "But once an entity so powerful as Chaos or Librasulus have achieved independent self-awareness, it cannot ever again be completely quelled. At some level at least a spark of each of Them will continue exist on its own. They are inside myself, and I have wrapped a part of my mind around Them. There they dream, building fortresses of thoughts and digging deep caves of desires, waiting for the day I will be weak and distracted so They can emerge once more."
"That means that I shall project my mind to the one place where you cannot go, into the isolated space inside your mind, where I will have to banish Them once and for all in order to save the world from destruction by their hands.", Theron observed.
"No Theron. I want you to walk the mad dreams of Chaos and Libraulus in order to heal them, bring them back into the embrace of balance and harmony, so I will be able to destroy the world myself on the end of days, before the long winter comes, as it has been prohesized at the beginning".
Theron stared in disbelief at his master. Had he finally succumbed to Chaos thoughts? Theron couldn't believe that, for his master made a calm and serene impression.
"Theron, remember our philosophical debates. All things immanent in this world are finite, all things will pass one day. Only the soul is eternal. Even the very world we inhabit for ages to come will at some time die, will sleep in the calm darkness to be reborn into a new cosmic spring after an aeon of cold and silence. This is what the world is destined for, if I close the door by speaking the final word of uncreation as the Prophecy tells. But this moment will take all my being, all my power, all my thoughts, all my concentration. If They still exist independent imprisoned inside my mind, it will be then, at the end of ages, that They will finally break free. If Chaos gains the upper hand in possessing me and speaks the final words of destruction, there will be no new aeon, no new spring, just enternal coldness. And if Librasulus takes over and speaks the first word that will manifest the next world, it will be a dead, lifeles world of ordered matter. I cannot allow that. Yet I am the only one who cannot face Them. But you can. Will you help me to allow all things to be released when the time has come?
Theron slowly nodded.
"I always trusted that I can rely on you. Yet I am sad to put such a heavy burden unto you. You see, if you manifest directly into the abyss of my mind, they will immediately become aware of you, for they know you, and they would destroy you. For archmaster you are, but you are not what people call a High Lord, and you cannot overcome them by battle alone. This is why wou will stay in an unmanifested state while travelling the maze of nightmares."
"But master, if I don't manifest, how am I supposed to interact with that dreamworld?" Yet, the very moment that question left his lips, in his heart Theron already fathomed the answer.
"You will guide champions against Them, as you have done before. You will enter a protion of my mind I have created specifically for that task. There, in the hall of mirrors, memories of champions fallen victim to Their previous attempts to rule the world are stored, as well as memories of me, of Them, and of yours, about what we perceived in these champions. Instead of composing dream-creatures from these memories and guide them against our enemies I can also give you the power to take real, living champions along with your projected spirit, that is, if you are finding someone who is actually willing to take the risk of discorporating from his body and possibly never to return there. Yet champions with real experience might be have an edge over dream creatures taken from mirrors made of memories.
In any case, the secluded part of myself cannot hold more than four champions beside Them and you, without becoming instable, never forget that."
They didn't speak more about this on that day. All that was to be said had been said. Theron went to make the preparations for his journey. Hardest among them were the responsibility of deciding whom to take along on this dangerous mission, and last but not least, explaining to Veyla that he would have to say farewell for an indefinite time.

"Veyla...", his thoughts echoed through his spirit as he descended into dark blackness of the astral void he had to pass to get into the abyss, a cold place where all things ended, even hope and love, and just the merciless forces of Chaos and Order persisted...

[Tom Hatfield]

I recommend some paragraph spacing. I shall then read it.