The door opens

Stumbling across twisted roots and slipping into mulchy divots, I struggled onwards, the ragged forest was old and claustrophobic, warping my sense of direction, the shadows about me becoming darker and more foreboding with every passing hour. I pulled my fraying woolen scarf tighter about myself as the wind picked up and whistled through the grey, gnarled trees, the hem of my long leather coat whipping about my ankles. The hour was late and a glance up through the tree canopy allowed me a sight of the heavy and swollen Grey sky as the patter of rain began. Before long the rain was coming down hard and I willed myself on, desperation lending my limbs fresh vigor as I made for the nearby settlement of Ultwald. Breaking through some thick brush, thorns and leaves tearing fresh holes into my dark clothing, I noticed a trail at the bottom of a small escarpment, following this the trees gradually began to thin, and the ground became firmer underfoot. As my line of sight widened out I felt a moment of relief at the sight of civilization, more the prospect of warm food and a soft bed than the company of others, but even I had to admit, conversation would be welcome, at least for a while. Brushing the worst of the detritus and dirt from my person and re-shouldering my small pack I approached the outlying gates of Ultwald. A creeping feeling began to creep up my spine the closer I got to the towns edge, something did not seem right. It was too quiet.
 
Crossing the threshold into the town proper my fears were realized. Instead of the thriving foresters hub I had expected to see, all I found was a broken ruin. Buildings tumbled in on themselves, stone and woodwork scattered as though torn down by the hands of a giant, scorched and blackened remains of homes and wagons lay among piles of ashes and dirt. I gripped my battered staff tightly as I picked my way through the grim desolation, suddenly wary of danger that may lurk around corners and in the deep shadows. I began to carefully explore, picking my way slowly through what remained of Ultwald.
 
Without warning a high pitched squeal tore its way into my mind, setting my nerves afire, I reeled back and fell to the ground as the noise rose in volume, my staff clattered to the floor as I pitched forwards, clutching my head with the palms of my hands and crying out in pain. My vision blurred as ,y body was wracked with involuntary convulsions and then, as quickly as it started, the noise ceased. My breathing came in ragged gasps and I ached from the convulsing of my muscles. I opened my eyes. I looked down to see my hands, covered in ash. A trio of human skulls stared up blankly from among the broken ruin about me, I knocked them away in disgust, feeling judgment from their silent gaze. I stood up, groggily, and beyond my periphery I heard the faintest of whispers, as though carried in on the silent breeze. I whipped around, bringing my staff up to bear, but all before me was ash and rubble, silent as the grave, while the trees beyond swayed in the ominous breeze.
 
I made my way onto the main thoroughfare of Ultwald, as I looked down the street, into the centre of town I saw the road carried on for about 500 yards, up to the foot of a grand church, its façade wide and imposing, a mighty edifice in its day, only now, it was a humbled and broken shell, its architecture sullied by whatever calamity had befallen this town. I approached slowly, and with caution, my senses stretched to their limit, the creeping whispers never far away. I looked for any who may still draw breath, stealing glances into tumbled homes and collapsed shop fronts, finding nothing but emptiness and death. Feeling at once very alone and as if the eyes of thousands were upon me I stood before the crumbling church, it's entrance smashed and the spire above hanging limp and close to complete collapse. I climbed the white stone steps and passed through the cracked archway before disappearing into the black shadows within.
 
Nothing moved. Only the sound of the wind and the light rain outside, I wiped the water from my pale face and cast back my hood, brushing my damp black hair away from my eyes. As the wind gusted into the once grand chamber the faint whispers became louder for a brief moment and my hackles were raised. I yelled out a panicked shout, “Show yourself! Come out from the shadows!” my voice echoed briefly in the ruins of the vaulted chamber and after a few seconds of pregnant silence The whispering began again only now as though it were all about me, I swung around behind himself with my staff, the smooth wood gripped in my dirty hands, it passed cleanly through thin air and my momentum carried me forwards in a fall, tripping over a shattered pew. I landed hard and there I lay, my body sore and aching from my long, arduous journey. my vision began to waver and I felt feint and dizzy as if a vertigo were taking hold. As the fogginess of my vision began to obfuscate my surroundings the whispers returned, stronger than before and louder than I liked. I began to crawl, assailed by whatever malevolence held sway over this accursed town. Pulling himself onwards I tried to escape the darkening, deepening whispers that wracked my mind in a language so guttural, so ancient I had no comprehension of its meaning. I cried out for release as I tried to clear my mind. In a panic my vision began to swim before eventually, naught but blackness was all I could see.
 
Cast into this pitch and knowing I was completely helpless I crawled, feeling for a way out, for an escape. I fumbled my way through the smashed rubble and splintered wood, my hands and arms bloodied and torn. I felt the floor beneath me begin to suddenly slope downwards and I began to slide, my weight and lack of purchase carrying me. I could feel the heavy flagstones underneath me cracked and broken before suddenly an emptiness opened beneath me, I scrabbled in vain for purchase and I cried out, my gut lurching with weightlessness as I felt nothing but an abyss around me, I was in free-fall. A sudden burst of pain smashed into me as I landed hard among a pile of stone and rubble. With the wind knocked out of me I felt as though I had been pummelled by an ogre. I reached down to the sharp pain in my leg and feeling through my padded breeches I realised my leg was badly fractured, I slumped back in agony. Exhausted, buried in darkness and suffering from heavy injury, I was far from prepared for what happened next.
 
A purple glow, soft and gentle became apparent from somewhere in front of where I lay. Wisps of violet mist began to surround me, seeping out from the shadows. The light was faint, but pulsated and throbbed as though alive or breathing, the chamber I had fallen into appeared to me in shades of grey and mauve as the mist slowly coalesced into the form of dozens of long writhing tentacles. They caressed my body and as I looked on in puzzlement they beckoned me to move. The whispering becoming deeper and clearer, forming from many disparate sounds into one single voice. “Thazarr....”
“What do you want!” I said surrendering to my pain. The voice continued on in a formless unknowable tongue. I yelled in frustration “I don't understand!”
I could barely make out my surroundings. Bathed in the sickly purple hue emanating from the gently writhing tentacles of mist, I could make out that I had fallen through a smashed and demolished portion of the floor above, into this subterranean catacomb. The walls to either side of me seemed to be covered in small tubular holes of stone and glass that seemed to contain parchment or linen scrolls, they were mouldered and dusty. The closer I looked the more I could see, seemingly coming out of my blindness. Stone shelves and surfaces had upon them skeletal fragments of creatures, small gemstones and books. I worked himself free of the pile of rubble I lay on and scrambled forwards, crawling towards my nascent discovery. I pulled himself painfully up to my feet, ignoring the mists that clung to my arms and body. I rounded a corner and before me was a lectern of dark stone, the surface of it resembled a great maw, toothed and jagged and upon it lay an ancient, but well preserved leather-bound book.
 
As I gazed upon its cracked leather and brass bound corners the whispering voice became punctuated with a sick gurgling laughter that echoed and stretched as though born from another place far, far away. I inched closer, my hand reached out through the gathering purple mists, I felt small needle-like pains scratch and prick at my exposed flesh as I reached out and moved closer to the stone dais. Jagged teeth, claws and talons formed from thin air and slowly raked across my body before dissipating like smoke and I felt incorporeal tendrils worm into my ears and nose. My fingers wrapped around the tome atop the lectern and as I lifted it off and held the grimoire with both hands, the whispering, the mist and the sickly mauve instantly light vanished. I was alone, a weightless island of one in an ocean of utter blackness and silence. The book was heavy, very heavy and as the void threatened to overwhelm me I lifted the book, and without another thought, opened it.
 
******************************************************************
 
The void watched and raged. Stars died, galaxies splintered and reformed, the cosmos turned and wheeled in the fathomless depths of the time consuming abyss. Entities older than the forming of the world looked on and weaved their intricate web of schemes and plans thread by thread. All the while, the tumultuous expanse of the universe flared in a chaos so vast that a singular consciousness could not begin to comprehend its enormity, let alone the myriad skeins of fate, time and destiny that intertwined it all in a grand, impossible symmetry.
Yet, there are those who are chosen. Those, who at first glance seem so small and insignificant, but are bent to be pivotal to the twists and turns of the great design, vital to the fates of the Multiverse. Souls that are steered and guided by those who see beyond the material, by those who are enlightened.
 
Thazarr opened his eyes. Four years had passed since he had been shown his potential, since he had been shown the thread of his own destiny and been allowed to grasp it in his own hands. He would not suffer fools gladly - not any longer. By himself, but not alone, Thazarr De’jassan listens to that which chooses to commune with him. A search for knowledge, a lust that is unbridled and pure drives him ever onwards. To begin to understand the realities beyond our own is but the first step on the road to true enlightenment. No faith, no God, no pantheon has ever held such a power as Thazarr has witnessed, and he will stop at nothing to unearth the secrets of the void beyond the material and the elemental. And so he wanders, and listens. Heeding the voice and the guidance bestowed upon him by the Great Old One. Despite his misgivings and discomfort at times his, patron, has gifted him not only his true name, but powers beyond the scope of imagining. Powers heightened by his own potential. Powers, that sweep aside those who oppose him, and powers that allow him, at times, to see beyond, into the tempest, to follow his thread into the unknown.