[ WP ] The sky ripped open , and through it fell a book .

Exhausted, Pyral fell to his knees. 
 
 Beeathing raggedly, he tried to pierce the fog clouding his mind, he tried to remember why he was here. A great feeling of urgency crouched at the back of his mind. There was a reason, he knew, for that urgency. A reason that eluded him the more he tried to focus on it. But his brain was too slow, his body hurt too much and he was far too tired. 
 
 Gasping in pain, he rolled onto his back. 
 
 Dimly, he was aware that he hit his head on the stone path. Images flashed before his closed eyes, leaving behind impressions. Desperately, he tried to capture an image. Tried to hold on to one. Any of them could be the key he needed. Any of them could be what he needed to answer the only thing that mattered. 
 
 What the hell was he doing here? 
 
 Soon, that question was the only thing that pounded through his mind with every heartbeat. He could n't even think to ask himself his own name, nevermind remember it. He had no idea how long he focused on that one thought, holding on to the only thing that kept him from giving way to his pain, his exhaustion. All notion of time faded away. 
 
 Slowly, he noticed his breathing evened out. Clutching at the one thing that could help him escape, he concentrated on his breathing. The question began to slowly dissolve in his mind, giving way to all the aches in his body. He had to take it slowly, one step at a time. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. 
 
 Above him, clouds floated calmly against the blue sky. The sunlight was burning his eyes, but he forced himself to endure it. Lying there, staring at the sky, the feeling of urgency seemed to grow. It threatened to engulf his mind, to drag him back once again to a state of utter uselesness. 
 
 No, he could n't let that happen. 
 
 Struggling in himself, he quelled the feeling. He did n't know how long he had lain there, doing absolutely nothing. He did know that it had been too long. Ignoring every instinct in his body, he turned his head. 
 
 Tall grass sprouted by the stone path, rippling gently in the light breeze. He marvelled at each individul stalk, perfectly synchronised with all the others yet in its own way an individual. He could n't tell one apart from another. 
 
 Pyral frowned. Why was that important? Why was he thinking about individuals and groups? Somehow, he knew that his feeling of urgency was related to that but as elusive as an eel the connection flew around the back of his mind. 
 
 As he was concentrating, he barely noticed the bird land in front. It was a pretty non-descript bird. It was small, orange-beaked with a white and grey plumage. Standing there, it eyed him curiously. 
 
 In an instant he remembered. Eyes wide with fear, he struggled back to his knees. 
 
 Suppressing the pain that lanced up his side, he found his staff at arm's reach. One end was vaguely shaped like a claw, the other was metal-tipped for fighting. Sticking the metal end in between the stones of the path, he clambered laboriously to his feet. 
 
 Dizzy with pain, he practically fell on to his staff. His legs were so weak it was a wonder they could even hold themselves connected to his body. Trying not to fall over, he vaguely noticed the bird had flew away. 
 
 The view was decidedly beautiful but the same in all direction. Fields and hills of grass extended to the horizon. The only interruption was the dirt path he wandered. Alone, as usual. 
 
 Shaking his head, he snarled at himself. He was pathetic, he could n't even stand properly. He could spew forth enough destruction to kill a dozen men before they even saw him but he could n't even make his legs work. 
 
 `` Is this what you want for me?'' He shouted at the sky. Atleast his voice was still working. 
 
 No answer. Why would there be? There never was. He was less than a pawn in a game far too large for him to understand. 
 
 He was relieved to find he was thinking clearly. A bit slowly maybe, but he had dispelled the fog in his brain. His job left no space for clouded thinking. 
 
 Looking back down the path he had come from, he wondered how far ahead he was. Had he lost them perhaps? Left them behind with no idea where he went? 
 
 Not likely. 
 
 Turning the other way, he forced himself to try and take a step forward. His whole focus, every part of him, was bent on completing that one, simple task. Pain blossomed up and down his leg as he slowly lifted his foot an inch off the floor. Shakily, he dragged it forward. 
 
 Wailing, he collapsed once again. As he stared down at his knuckles, he wondered what had motivated him all this time. What had dragged him all this way? 
 
 `` Look at me.'' He said softly. `` Look at how I am. Are you proud?'' 
 
 *Proud that you can not move? Proud that you have a whole Yttigal camp coming after you? * 
 
 Finally, he was answered. 
 
 `` Yeah? Well take a guess at who did that.'' Pyral snarled in reply. Anger filled him like a wave stronger than his feeling of urgency. He let it, revelled in it. `` Guess who made me a broken piece. Do you not love reminding me I am your pawn? Have you forgotten a pawn can only go forward?'' Taking a deep breath, he howled. `` *Look at me! I ca n't go forward anymore! *'' 
 
 *Enough! * The voice was like a hammer beating through his skull. 
 
 But it was not enough. Now he had started and he would finish on his own terms. 
 
 `` It is not enough!'' He felt like he was hearing himself from far away. Pyral felt as if the voice was n't his. `` I am sick of your games, of your petty maneouvres! I have done enough for you! I'll take everything I have with me to the grave, I'm sure the Gatekeeper wo n't mind having *it*, now will he?'' 
 
 A long pause ensued. *You dare challenge me? * 
 
 `` I agreed to help you a long time ago, when you had no other choice.'' His voice was barely a whisper, but still not his. `` I think it's time you repaid the favour. Do you remember? Do you remember feeling hopeless, powerless? Who got you out of that?'' It did n't make a difference, but Pyral lifted his face. The dirt path before him seemed very long. `` Who saved you?'' 
 
 His sight began to waver, he was going to faint. No, he was going to die. Stranded on a dirt road, in the middle of a strange land. 
 
 He'd never imagined a teary departure amongst friends, he'd never had many of those, but he did want to have some dignity. He wanted to be remembered. 
 
 *Fine. * The voice was barely a whisper. 
 
 Pyral felt his limbs grow stronger. He felt the healing spread rapidly across his whole body, banishing the pain like a bad memory. 
 
 A thunderclap rang above him. Perplexed, Pyral began to look up. There were only half a dozen clouds lazily floating by. Where was the lightning? 
 
 With a loud thump, a book landed beside him. 
 
 Staring in amazement, Pyral could hardly believe his eyes. He began to shake again. Not in exhaustion, but in anticipation. Savouring the moment, he reached out a hand. 
 
 The book was an old friend. A really old friend. 
 
 *See? * A different voice said in his head. *Pawns can become queens. * 
 
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 Wow, thanks for reading. That took me a long time to write so any criticism would be appreciated! 
 
 Dive into my world at r/PhoenixWriting 

