Wrimaal's Arrival

Heavy iron horseshoes fell brashly upon the cobbled roads of Hartend; worn by a stoic and reserved palfrey, its coat sleek and black and showing a streak of the sun’s warming light drawn across it. On the beast's back rode a grey-cloaked figure, estranged from the beauty of the mount.

The cloak itself was the colour of sadness, a dusty grey with no life, it had been worn more than it ever should have with stretched wool and messy stitches showing where it had been torn in the past. The cloak concealed the rider well, all that could be seen of the rider was their long, silvery beard tied in a knot at their chest, and their pale, wrinkled hands that held loosely onto the reins of their horse.

Speeding through the outer parts of the town came to a halt upon reaching the inner city walls. The palfrey came to an abrupt halt, kicking its front legs up in the air and making a loud, distressed neigh; the rider managed to keep their hold and gently calmed the discomforted beast, returning back to the ground.

The cloaked rider carefully dismounted.

A well armoured guard ordained with cloth depicting the banner of Galadonn cautiously approached while the cloaked character tended to their horses saddle and pack.

“State your business traveller.” Proudly announced the guard, trying to look more intimidating than he truly was. His only response was a murmur and turned back.

“State your business in this town at once.” The guard emphasised this one a bit more.

The traveller took a deep breath, “I… am looking for someone” His voice deep, calculated and strained.

“And who may this someone be?” Their intimidating demeanour receding.

Another pause followed, “I am looking for Gus Potentia.” And they turned to look the guard in the eye.

After a short period of thought, the guard looked up to another looking out from upon the inner city wall. “Bring Ernst,” He said, “Tell him it's about Gus”.

While the rider waited at a stump laid out beside the road, the guard attempted to make some conversation with them which came to no avail. After some time the wooden inner gates were parted and through came an immaculately dressed gentleman with a strong look upon his face and white hair that gleamed in the sunlight.

“My name is Ernst Ven Ishtara, Earl of this here settlement” Said the white haired gentleman.

The cloaked rider slowly brought up hands to push back the hood which covered their face, behind it was revealed long hair of the same silvery-grey as their beard and sun beaten leathery skin.

“So… You can lead me to him?” The cloaked man did not look at Ernst, he seemed distant.

“Sir, you cannot arrive here unannounced looking for a citizen of this country and expect to be able to led to them” His voice changed “You could be an assassin, I don't even know who-”

“I have told you… I am looking for Gus Potentia… I can help. '' And as the words rolled off of his tongue Ernst’s face dropped, his voice became a hushed whisper-

“...What do you know?” Ernest said, turning to the guard and sending him away with a brisk hand gesture, “How do you know about him? Who are you?” He had a slight tremble in his voice.

“The stars guide me, I follow.”

Ernest spent some time evaluating this mysterious man more thoroughly. He wore the clothes of a peasant, rode the steed of a lord, and spoke like a scholar. The man in this moment of silence took an item from beneath his cloak, a hat. But this was no ordinary hat, this was ornate, a velvety night sky blue with golden thread splayed out across it, silvery speckled stars covering the top part. It had a flat top with a short black rope with a golden tassel at the end of it that hung slightly lower than the base of the hat.

As the man surgically placed the hat upon his head he spoke, “My name… Wrimaal Eremok,” He stood slowly and began to dust off his clothes, in doing so, his cloak turned from the lifeless grey into the same fabulous patterns as on his hat, “I prefer to keep a more casual look while on the road, you see, bandits tend not to see much value in those dressed in the peasants attire.”

Ernst stood blankly. “I mean only to help,” Wrimaal said, “You know of his state. You know he needs help. Do not deny it when I offer.”

“Why did you come here first, surely you could have gone straight there?” Ernest asked.

“Like I said, the stars guide me, I merely follow.”

He took a deep breath, “I know not of your intent here, whether you are truly here to do what you say… I will take you to the castle.”

The two of them in under an hour had set off to Galadonnia. Wrimaal was reluctant to leave his steed behind but he eventually agreed to it after being assured it would be given the best of care. They travelled in a small carriage pulled by two draught horses, much larger than Wrimaals, but nowhere near as beautiful.

Their arrival into the city wasn’t remarked much, they were let in hastily and it seemed as though the ongoing matter of the castle’s construction was more important than a pair of well dressed gentlemen walking around, one of them far too relaxed, and the other frantically looking for someone to take them to where they needed to go.

“I think you worry a lot good sir.” Wrimaal calmly stated

“Have I not a good reason?” His palms formed a light covering of sweat which pressed into a white silk cloth he had pulled from his pocket.

“Have you?” Wrimaal had begun leading the way though it was clear that he didn’t know where he was going.

“What if you’re some sort of assassin, here to-”

“I am no assassin. I assure you.”

“I really feel like I shouldn’t trust you.” Ernst spotted someone who could be of use to them, a knight of the crown, and called them over. He took a quick glance over at Wrimaal and then went to whisper something into the guard's ear.

This knight had taken them past all the fray of construction that was going on, people moving around frantically, wood and stone being carried everywhere. Systems of weighted cranes and pulleys being used to hoist material up to the higher floors of the castle where hundreds of people were all working. They made their way up the many stone stairs of the castle's entrance and through the torch lit hallways and corridors, up more stairs and through more rooms. The place was like a labyrinth. The guard walked with Ernst a bit ahead, out of earshot of Wrimaal, but he seemed more interested by how strangely calm and quiet it was inside the castle compared to outside.

“We have arrived.” Ernest said. They had arrived, but the place was quite unbecoming. It was merely a wooden door, with a large iron handle set out on the side of a long hallway covered in depressing paintings.

“Before you go inside-” But it was too late, Wrimaal had already pushed the door open and was walking inside. Ernest hastily burst in after him and started apologising profusely after seeing that a large majority of the Potentia family had gathered in the room. Wrimaal had seen this also, “Ah, perfect, everyone got here before me. I don’t like being early.”

“Ernst!” The king exclaimed, “Explain this madness at once! Who is this… Person?”

“Sire… He says he can help… He says his name is Wrim… Wrim-”

“Wrimaal, Wrimaal Eremok. Your majesty. I am indeed here to help.” He glanced over to bed in which a very unhealthy looking being was laid. The person's skin was a pale pink, almost colourless, his body shrivelled like an outdated fruit, he held onto the hand of a younger boy with pale skin and auburn hair. The boy had tears in his eyes but tried to look strong.

“I do not know why I have been sent here,” Wrimaal said, “But there are things I must do. I know that much.”

King Cassius rose from his chair with an aura of power around him, he slowly paced towards Wrimaal and looked at him with a blank fury in his eyes, “I should slay you where you stand.” There was no reaction from anyone in the room, until Cassius placed his hand on his blade and brandished it a hair's distance from Wrimaals face.

Gus spoke in a tragically worn voice, twisted and broken, “Still, you are as untrusting as ever.”

“Stay out of this, Uncle. You are unwell.” Cassius lowered his sword

“Yes, yes. As I am often told. Let me talk with this man, if anything goes wrong… Well, you’ll know about it.” After some time everyone other than Gus and Wrimaal had evacuated the room. There were many confused and irritated looks sent around.

“You’re a mad old man.” Wrimaal started. Gus only laughed back at him.

“You lie to those you love.” He continued

“You are a-”

“Enough!” Gus snapped, “Why would I need your help?”

“The stars tell me.”

“The stars tell you nothing. You lie, you lie just as you say I do.”

“You knew me once. You won’t remember now, but I do.” Wrimaal said calmly

“LIAR!” Gus shouted

“Gus Potentia. You were once the second most powerful being in the universe, that must be hard to comprehend with a mortal mind. You must know that when you passed on your power the transition was not complete... In some ways, you’re still a watcher Gus.” When Wrimaal spoke it seemed like he was the only other person in the room, which he was in this situation.

“I know…” Gus said reluctantly

“Watchers are not supposed to keep their memories of being a watcher when they reincarnate… But you never passed through the Yamdall. You're stuck in stolen time.”

“So what. Let's say this is true, let's say I am some crazy fool. How are you supposed to help me?” Gus asked

“You need to make a decision. You can give your time back. Or you can live out your days where your delusion can't harm anyone.”

“You say that as if it's my choice if I die.” Gus chuckled.

“I thought you were supposed to be the all knowing, great Abnar Gus Potentia. I'm underwhelmed.” Wrimaal said

“As you say, I'm just a crazy old fool.” Gus slouched back down, somewhat defeated. Wrimaal paced over to sit beside him in the chair Cassius was sitting in.

“So either I can leave. Or I can die… Why should I leave, how am I harming anyone?” Gus asked.

“You have the entire country convinced that there is some otherworldly being prancing around and is going to destroy the entire world. This Grus idea, it's ludicrous… You really are mad.”

“HE IS REAL! I have seen him myself!” Gus snapped

“Isn't it weird that he looks exactly like you. That nobody has seen you and him in the same place. That your only point of validation for him was a singular vision for someone you had tainted with your mad ideas?”

“How can I leave? I'm on my deathbed.”

“Not quite. You do not need to die here. You can be healed.”

“How can I trust you?” He asked

“You did know me. You told me many things once, you told me many of the things I have told you now. I wish I could give those memories back to you. I am so sorry I cannot take away this madness.” Wrimaal was sincere, he looked Gus in the eye and they stayed like that for a moment.

“What would you do?”

“Me? I'd have given up a long time ago, I wouldn’t have made it this far. But you’re stronger than me. I believe that the sickness you experience now is a symptom of your madness taking control of you, you need to fight back against it. You will never truly beat it, you won't even know this conversation happened soon.”

“I think I understand.”

Wrimaal stood up and started walking to the door, “Drink more water, you'll start looking less like a raisin.”

Wrimaal walked out of the door and said nothing to the crowd that was waiting and instead started walking off in the wrong direction through the castle. While he was walking seemingly aimlessly, Ernst caught up with him. Wrimaal did not acknowledge his arrival.

“So?” Said Ernest

“So… That's it, we're done here. We can go back.” Wrimaal responded.

And so they did. They went back under the setting sun, the crisp Galadonni air began to arise - cold, but refreshing. The cart remained the same level of excitement as it did on the journey there, not a word was spoken between the two of them.

Upon reaching Hartend again the two of them stepped out of the carriage. It had become dark and the street lights had been lit, providing a flicker to each of their faces.

“Which way to Guslandia?” Wrimaal asked

“Wh- Oh, Follow that path through the mountain for a few minutes and you'll get there,” He said, pointing south towards the town, “There's not much there for you though.”

“I know…” And with that, he collected his horse from the stable and rode south, through the inner walls and through the mountain.