CHAPTER 2: THE PRISONER

Norrin woke up gasping for air. He thought for sure he was dead, but the stinging of the cuts on his arms, and the throbbing soreness of the bumps and bruises he received in his fight with the griffon signaled to him that he did not reach his end. He sat upon a smooth, dark and cold floor, and damp but fresh air cooled his skin. Norrin survived the fall; however, he didn't have any idea how, and no clues to where he was now. The Hollow Cliffs, the blue griffon and the crystal lake were all fearful memories, and he sat alone in a shadowy and cryptic chamber.

Norrin tried to get his bearings as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and emptiness that surrounded him. He compared the space to the large communal dining halls located around the lower-class sections of the citadels. But instead of being filled with tables and seats, it was completely stark and hollow. The walls of the chamber were covered in large ancient runes of which he did not recognize, that reached up to the high dome like ceiling. The runes flickered and glowed in the same soft blue as the feathers of the griffon, giving the chamber a cool ambiance. The room hummed with power; a hushed low tone similar to the chants of the old monks of the Temples but with a softer, more enchanted timbre. Norrin lifted himself up on shaky legs and started to move towards the walls to get a clearer look at the runes, but stepped back at the last moment. On a second inspection of his surroundings, he realized that he was standing on a small pedestal in the center of the room. Besides the pedestal, there was no other floor, only a great dark abyss.

Where am I?, Norrin thought as he peered over the edge in confusion. He could discern that the walls of the chamber with their runes continued down into the void but could not tell how deep the drop went. He took another pulse crystal from his pack and dropped it into the darkness. He reasoned the blast would light up what was below him and give him an idea of the depth of the chasm. Only, the blast never came. Minutes went by with nary a blink of light indicating the bottom of the void. Norrin escaped the griffon, but quickly realized his life was still in peril.

“Okay, what can I do, what can I do?” Norrin asked himself as he re-assessed the hall. Now was not the time to panic, even though he felt it creeping into his mind.

When a Chaser succumbs to their emotions a Chaser dies, the words passed down to him from his training popped in his head. From early on, learning how to keep his wits about him in impossible situations was an important lesson he was told to master. He reminded himself to focus on the circumstances he could control, and the things he could do to change his fortunes.

“First off, it’s too dark here,” he spoke to himself, hearing his voice to echo around the chamber. He produced a small tube from his pack called a firelight, shook it, and snapped off the top to produce a bright white flare, holding it up to get a better look at the hall. But, the room lit up much brighter than he expected, and Norrin glanced at his firelight in surprise. It serves as an adequate light source but is in no way capable of illuminating a space this large. No, there was something else cutting the darkness. The runes themselves were glowing brighter, and light flooded the room from every corner.

“What is this place?” Norrin thought, awestruck as everything in the grand hall came into focus. Mixed between the runes, lay grand murals of people in strange clothing and far off places, the artistry and definition of each character was unique and painstakingly designed. Also featured upon the walls were gigantic illustrations of fantastical beasts so beautiful and powerful that they almost appeared real. Plus, there were inscriptions written in a language he had never seen before and could not translate, but he somehow knew they conveyed a message of instruction and authority. Norrin was hypnotized studying every minute detail, but his focus was broken when a voice resounded behind him.

“Who are you? How did you get here?” The voice was soft and high toned, but also very commanding and echoed throughout the chamber.

Norrin spun around startled and dropped his firelight. He could not believe what his eyes were seeing. An enormous spirit-goddess looked down upon him, with an inquisitive glare. The deity’s face was youthful but serious, with eyes a bright shade of green that sparkled and flashed like multifaceted jewels. Her full lips were accented with a small beauty mark on the left corner of her mouth. Her ethereal skin was the bright blue color of the sky on a cloudless summer day and radiated with a cool glow. Her hair was colored the same turquoise blue as Norrin’s bandero and floated in long waves which framed her face.

She wore light silver armor, with detailed and elaborate adornments engraved in the chest plate, shoulder spaulders, and vambraces on her arms. Even though the armor was completely translucent, it still shined as if it had been polished to perfection. But this was not some ceremonial armor she wore, because her confident and intense demeanor gave the Norrin impression that this celestial being won many battles, and was not a warrior to take lightly. The goddess may not have been what some considered to be fashionably beautiful, but there was only one word Norrin could use to describe her, and it was perfect. He stared in shock at her, mouth agape, dumbfounded by the sight of the deity that appeared before him, and also the immense power she projected.

“Who are you, and how did you get here?” The deity again asked. Her tone changed from curiosity to annoyance at having to repeat herself.

"How did I get here?" Norrin asked himself dumbfounded by the question.