Balance

The road to Andisine had not been an easy one. The headstrong determination of Dmitri and his companions to head through the Grey Wilds had not gone exactly according to plan, to put it mildly. Still, just like he'd thought, they had made it through alive and, in the end, none the worse for wear. While the thought of death along this path they were walking was still present, brooding in the back of his mind, Dmitri felt somehow vindicated, strengthened in purpose every time they made it through another conflict unscathed.

Andisine was not much further; after the confrontation with the fallen mage of Liet, things had been relatively smooth. By night, they huddled inside the safe confines of the tent (and it was a true stroke of luck that it had been purchased, though really Dmitri couldn't say who had spent their silver on it by this point), and by day they trudged wearily, warily onward. And so, this night, just like the others before it, they settled within their shelter, despite the cold, wet winds outside.

And, unlike most nights, Dmitri dreamed. It was in this dream, the usual nebulous landscape with nothing of note happening, that he saw her. Dmitri saw, for the first time in his life, his mother.

The familial curse was strange, in some ways. While he had constant interruptions from his relatives, there was a sort of block on the recently dead, almost as if they were still trying, futilely, to get through the seal that had been placed by Malvis so long ago. In the hundreds of years that they could speak of, no one appeared to any of the Maltavis clan sooner than a generation, more usually two or three, from the time of their death. Dmitri knew this, but could not deny seeing her there, knowing her face. Ylena, slight of form but radiant with her own energy, reached out her hand, beckoning him to follow her through the landscape of his dreams.

With a shrug, he did. The path wound and spiraled, with his mother's form always just ahead, urging him further. Through shadowed ravines and up half-formed hills, he followed, always just out of reach of her light. He trailed her down, deeper, through a canyon whose walls towered above him, almost losing sight of the gleam around a sharp turn, and knowing, somehow, that he would be lost here for good if he let that happen.

Dmitri charged around the corner, and almost barreled headlong into the man standing there. It was hard to make him out, precisely; all at once, he seemed young and old, vital and atrophied. The only truly clear feature was the red robes he wore, emblazoned with the crest of Gamasen. The man seemed to smile at Dmitri's baffled stare, and spoke.

"Dmitri Maltavis. It is good of you to have come this far to speak with me. Now, please, I ask you to let me speak; this form of communication is a terrible drain, especially as I have to make it...shall we say, 'concealed'. My name is Father Terrilion, a priest of Gamasen in the capital of Andisine. You, and your friends, are coming here. This is known to me, and doubtless to some others. Likewise, your quest, and challenges, are not unknown to me; Gamasen has spoken to me of them, and I know the trials you will face.

"But Dmitri, there is another calling for you as well. Andisine is in upheaval. Nicolas has fallen, leaving only Devinar and Carolinus to manage the city. Devinar has taken it to his advantage, and Carolinus is not able to bring such an unbalanced scheme to equilibrium. Gamasen has followed your path, granted you powers and, of course, the odd bit of help once in a while; oh don't look surprised! Surely you didn't think that all those miraculous happenings were completely random, did you? Regardless, all things balance for we who wear the red, and now...now, Dmitri, is when your help is asked. Increasing power demands increased responsibility, and it has been told to me that this task is partially yours.

"You are fated, my son; for what, precisely, I can't say. Gamasen has not deigned to share the outcome of your struggles with me. Still, I can see with my own eyes that you have the ability to change things, especially with your companions at your back. You, and those you travel with, have the opportunity to help restore the balance in Danmier. You are an unknown factor, and stronger than anyone gives the lot of you credit for. Come to Andisine, Dmitri. Find the cause of Nicolas' disappearance; restore him to his position if possible, but, above all else, help restore the balance to magic in Danmier. If Danmier falls to one faction, it will not be long before the rest of Macinar follows.

"Find what you can. Seek me at the temple of Gamasen when you're ready, and I can help further you along your path; there's more to the mysteries of the Red God than self-serving spells from a pretty book, after all. Find your way here, learn, and help us set things right."

The vision faded, and Dmitri felt an inescapable pull backwards. He felt picked up off of his feet, as if by some coursing wind, and was propelled backwards, faster and faster, until, with a jolt, he found himself awake. He sat up with a gasp, looking around the inside of the tent, finding everyone else asleep still. Dawn was hours away, but he couldn't help thinking that he saw a bright glow fading just over the horizon.