As Ranai approached the final landing of the great stairway and collapsed from exhaustion in front of Ashe. She had been sitting there for nearly an hour waiting, her long smokey tail gently swaying behind her. Three thousand stone steps running through a thick forest had led them to the peak of the ruined kingdom of Fesor and before them, the last standing castle of Fesor. Covered in cracks permeated with dead moss in its walls, a broken metal gate laid open in a mess of stone, one side half bent in after an attack long forgotten about. A courtyard beyond parted two large towers that stood opposite each other. In the center of the courtyard sat six statues around a fountain of blue stones. Two of the statues had crumbled with time, and one other had gone missing completely. Looters had likely dropped it down the stairs on their way back down a hundred or so years prior.

Fesor Manor still stood within the grounds. Large wooden doors, engraved with the runes and prayers stood wide open, almost inviting. The castle grounds had been a beacon for looters with enough stamina to make it up and down these stairs during the last uprising. This castle was a great monument to the area’s prosperity. The mountains were littered with caves that ran deep with veins of copper and caverns encrusted with gems.

Stories say the keep itself is filled with riches that would “change the skies.” Unfortunately, like most of these types of stories. They’re followed up by “anybody who entered never came out.” Which is a fine warning in itself, straight to the point with a flair of scary. Ranai hadn’t made his living on listening to warnings though and that wasn’t changing today.

With his back against the cool stone, he breathed deep and tried not to accidentally die. Basically his life philosophy. “That which accidentally dies doesn’t die accidentally” he once said to a creepily hooded figure in a bar and yes, he was drunk of course. Ever since it became his unwritten unspoken mantra.

“You aren’t the only thing with legs!” he shouted at the rodent sitting in front of him. “I just wish I had your dexterity you know? You lept thirty stairs back there!” As his breath came easier he got back to his feet. Ashe still sat, her eyes fixated on her owner. Furrowing her nose she displayed her annoyance at being kept waiting. She had gotten bored, stacking stones in large towers replicating the castle on a micro-scale. 

“I get it, I’m slow. Not like I don’t try, I hustled up those steps! How the king decided the top of a mountain would be a good place to put a castle, I'll never understand. Sure you’re secure and all but imagine if you left your dinner at the bottom!” he proclaimed gesturing back to the steps. “Are you going back for it?” he paused, turning to Ashe for a response he knew he wouldn’t get. “Doubt it. Well, maybe it depends on what was for dinner. I’d go back for a good stew or maybe a roast. But then... why would you leave food right? Hard to forget.” he smirked as he grabbed some heartthorn bread from his bag and took a big bite. It was dry but would suffice for the day. They were reaching the end of their journey and his supplies were running out. Thankfully Ashe doesn’t require food most days. “Just give me a minute and we’ll head in. Why don’t you see if you can find any traps near the door?” he waved her off towards the door. Ashe rolled her dark eyes and turned, heading through the gate into the courtyard of rubble.

Ashe headed into the debris-strewn courtyard out of boredom. Sure, it was why they were here but it wasn’t her choice. Previous raiders cared less about preservation and more about their quick profits, stripping the area of its riches. Pillars had been knocked over in order to get the jewels that had been displayed at the top. She surveyed the large pond at its center. It had an aura to it that told her a very specific story. This place was still held in great reverence. The people who survived the tragedy of Fesor grew older and their nostalgia for home had caused this location to grow more powerful. Those memories were connected directly with their original sources. The aura Ashe sensed was the spiritual representation of something’s presence on this plane. 

Time was an arc’s worst enemy. As people die, their memories no longer make those same connections. Given enough time, every arc’s light would fade. That power that drives an arc directly connects to its history. visible only to her that indicated how powerful of a memory the statues held. People still held this place in great reverence some thirty years after it’s abandonment. This place would make a perfect Arcstone if they had time.

It wasn’t easy being one of Ranai’s Arcs. Not that it was necessarily hard really, she tended to do whatever she wanted when she was free.  He wasn’t exactly the hero his stories portrayed him as. With a little imagination and a lot of storytelling. 

She tended to just float about relaxing and taking in the world when she wasn’t needed. While that was nice most of the time, there was always that piece in the back of her mind that yearned to fill her life with meaning. Not that this was her life at all. She was an arc and arcs always needed an owner. She knew that much about herself at least. Given the alternative, existing was definitely a plus. Ranai once spouted off, “Nobody remembers what they don’t remember remembering,” at her in one of his late-night escapades, another in a series that ended in her needing to rescue him.

Step by step he had made his way to the top of those damn stairs. Finally, a moment to pause. Just peace, quiet and treasure. Treasure at least if not the other two. They had been on the road for the last month, trudging across two kingdoms. Almost didn't make it out of the first. Liats are very touchy about their sacred objects. Some ancient spear that supposedly killed Ank and liberated a city. Not that he believed it. It wasn’t even that nice if he was being honest, it looked like one of those spears they sold in the markets. Only ended up getting them enough for the rest of the trip. Which had dried up in the last tavern they had stayed in. One last night of comfort before they were back to slumming it in forests.

Now it was time to make another score and keep that from happening. As Ranai rose and turned towards the keep, he signed searching out Ashe. “She hasn't had much time to ruin everything so he should be safe.” he thought and started towards the fountain. “Ashe!” he shouted as loud as he dared. He felt confident that they were alone. Setting a trap up here would be a very long con considering all the easy riches were down at the base of the mountain. But… this wouldn't've been the first time he got caught in a trap he didn't think was possible. “Where is that blasted puff?” he scanned the grounds and the doorway. As he stepped through the arched door all he noticed were the stained glass windows that made up the walls and roof. Most of the ground-level ones had been removed or destroyed. But the ceiling was a work of art. Orange and purple light danced across the hall’s open interior, turning the destroyed tables and chairs into a playground. “Beautiful.” he slowly mouthed as he calculated how much he could sell the entire set for, he wasn’t here to be a tourist. Today was about profits and survival. He took another step into the hall and noticed a throne with a figure seated in it, his eyes adjusting to change in light bringing the details of the room to light.

“Ashe?” he whispered, squinting as he heard a noise off to one side of the hall. He continued to walk into the long hall slowly pulling his dagger from its sheath. As he did the sound of grinding rocks could be heard in the distance which caught his attention quickly.

Shrouded in mist, the figure rose from the throne. Greystone mesh armor draped across its chest. A bright blue gem-encrusted deep into its chest. Heavy cloak hid its features, everything except its piercing white eyes. Those eyes stared deep into Ranai’s soul as he stood at the far end of the room. Greystone. At least that part of the myth was real. It wasn’t every day you got to prove myths. Well, live to prove it at least. We’d see about the rest of those myths.

The great hall was adorned with pale blue crystal lamplight. Tapestries hung in tatters along the walls, some with scorch marks. Discarded furniture, broken and burned lay across the walkways and high pillars connected to an arched ceiling covered in stained glass skylights cascading multi-colored light across the floor. The hulking figure at the far end of the room was some sort of trap placed to protect against burglars long ago. Castle Fesor had been abandoned for thirty years now. Most of the servants killed along with the royalty in some sort of uprising. The few that escaped had laid out stories that became the myths of this area. Fesor wasn’t a very rich land originally and without royalty quickly became a sad disgrace of a community. Even a poor city can attract treasure hunters though.

“You can’t just be absurdly huge, menacing, and make me regret most of my life with a single glance! That’s just... rude! Being real is more than enough in this situation!” Ranai yelled across the long hall. “I only have three swords, a fluffy smoke monster where is she by the way? and a couple of potions. Give me a second to err.. prepare.” he mumbled while fumbling through his bags, tossing things aside as he found some useless junk from old adventures “Hold on hold on, I think I have something for you. Maybe? No. Yes!” Ranai smirked as he withdrew an orange sphere glowing with an energy that coated the inside of the glass sphere like liquid. 

Rolling the sphere across his palm and across his fingers he slid the sphere into a slot on the back of the leather glove of his left hand. The glove had multiple layers of decorative metal wire surrounding three circular slots, one of which was already occupied by a small pale blue sphere. The wire intertwined and came together in his palm to form a star. Half of the sphere that would have embedded into his own hand, phased into mist as it was slotted. A faint orange light radiated from the star pattern on his palm while the brightness of the gem itself dulled.

Suddenly a high pitch scream pierces the air, startling Ranai out of his focus. Greystone ripped at its cloak and threw it across the room exposing an entire body made of the same grey armor of his chest. Mist poured out of the cracks in his body and glowed with bright pale blue light. The mist rose, hotter than the air around Greystone as it took its first step towards Ranai. Another scream as its jaw flew open exposing the same blue light radiating from its throat ending in a loud crack as the stone jaw snapped closed. Eyes still locked onto its prey.

Ranai stared back, dumbfounded that he’d found himself in another situation where his life was in danger even though he knowingly went looking for it. He unsheathed a dagger from his lower back with his right hand. Blade engraved along its entire length. “Can’t I just have one month where the danger is bar fights? Oh! Or a food fight. Those are fun.” he said under his breath. Sighing, he looked around the room searching out Ashe.

“Anytime you feel like you know, helping. That’d be just fantastic.”

She’d slipped out of his sight right as they entered the castle grounds and hadn’t been seen since. Ashe was the size of a large ferret, white eyes, and purple fur that ended in wisps of dark purple smoke. She was a slippery little thing, capable of phasing to smoke whenever she wanted. You really couldn’t keep her put if she wanted to do something else. Most of the time it was to go play with the local critters. Or eat them. She had her uses though.

Ranai finally spotted the grey smoke streak leaping from the back wall to one of the rafters right above Greystone. Satisfied he wouldn’t be dealing with the situation alone he went back to focusing on his glove. A series of small gestures manipulated the glow in his hand. It extended in two directions as he continued the manipulations. Ashe materialized hanging upside down on the rafter first looking down at Greystone then back at Ranai. Ranai’s eyes widened, head shaking trying to stop what he knew was inevitable, it always happened. “Why do I even bother bringing this soulless smoke demon!?” he thought right as Ashe dropped.

Greystone stopped for a moment after being smacked on the shoulder. Looking to his right and making direct eye contact with Ashe studying the semi-translucent tail and ears. Greystone suddenly screamed directly into Ashe’s face, blue light and mist fluttering her fur. Ashe held her ground, claws embedded into the stone of his shoulder. Greystone’s jaw cracked shut again and Ashe resettled onto his shoulder again furrowed eyes staring into his own. Ashe opened her maw slowly, letting out a very quick “Vraao!”. Instantly phasing into smoke, Ashe entered the cracks of Greystone’s body. Howling, Greystone clawed at his stomach where smoke dripped from and then his shoulder as the cracks started to widen. Greystone’s eyes went frantic as his shoulder exploded into chunks of stone. The blue light faded from the stones that hit the ground. Ashe phased back into her physical form sitting on the floor next to Ranai as she watched Greystone collapse to its knees while clutching its chest. 

Ranai stared down at her. “I really... really hate when you do that Ashe. We have a system damn it, come on! Remember the Cryvia job? We had that in the bag. But you had to go bust down a wall because you thought it’d be faster, three dead guards later we got out!. I just needed you to delay. You’re made of smoke most of the time!” Ashe let out a small satisfied squeak watching Greystone struggle. 

The energy in his hand finished forming and he let out a sigh of relief. He now held a glowing orange Arsyn, an ancient ornate double-bladed sword. One side twice the length of the other at arm’s length. Gripping the now-formed handle between the two blades, he relaxed for a few moments. Arc binding took time and energy. If you run out of time, you could use more energy to speed it up. The same would work in reverse if you were exhausted. The energy needed for this wasn't specifically your own. Ashe had helped him bind a few times when they were in a pinch. Poor girl would be useless afterward though. 

“Think you can relax for a bit and get your energy back without bringing down the whole castle on my head?” Ranai stared down at Ashe who puffed a line of smoke out of the side of her mouth. Glancing at Greystone who was just now making it back to his feet, one arm completely shattered. “Take that as a maybe!” he yelled at Ashe as he started to run forward, orange blade in one hand and dagger in the other. Greystone screamed raging from the sight he grabbed one of the pillars near him and ripped it out of its footing. A faint blue light pulsed on the back of his glove and Ranai leaped effortlessly over the hulk’s pillar swinging through the air, arcing over Greystone coming down with a single slash across its back. Greystone bellowed as the cut in his back exploded with light, he lunged around nearly hitting Ranai with a backhand. The only thing he did hit was another pillar. “If he keeps this up it won’t be Ashe that brings this place down,” he mumbled to himself as he skirted another swipe.

Ranai backed down the hall towards the throne where Greystone first sat. The creature paused as Ranai stepped onto the first step of the throne. As he claimed another step, Greystone screeched loud enough to make Ranai flinch and then lept at the throne, taking out a line of columns as he did and crashed right in front of Ranai then reached for him with his good arm making him stumble back into the seat Greystone once occupied.

Silence.

“Ashe!” he yelled as he peeked around the mammoth stone statue that stood towering him. “You stupid rodent get over here!” Ashe jumped on top of the statue and looked down at her owner, no orange sword insight. He was now trapped between the throne… and the hand of Greystone, frozen in place against his chest. “The throne was the key by the way.” Ranai chirped out, winded from the pressure of the hand. Ashe merely rolled her eyes and jumped down onto the arm, squeaking what was definitely laughter. “Give me a hand before you start laughing at me!”

Ashe phased. Her smoke form dripped across the hand of the frozen creature, permeating the cracks that no longer glowed. Piece by piece the hand crumbled into palm-sized chunks, falling off the throne as she worked.

Ranai took a deep breath as soon as he was free enough but didn't dare move from the throne. He knew the trigger now. Getting off it would not be good. “Ok.. so we know the key yes?” He said slapping the throne with his palms. “Where is the treasure then?” he talked to himself while examining the throne, looking for any signs of a lock or hidden mechanism. Standing upon the throne he notices a gem in the center of the previously cushioned chair back. “Wait wait, here we go. Got it Ashe.” he declared as he examined the small white sphere embedded into the stone of the throne.

Ashe, now in her usual form stared at the gem inside the golem, still glowing faintly. “What’re you thinking Ashe? Still a life in there?” Ranai said as he noticed his counterpart’s stare. Ashe didn't reply. Instead, she used her tail to phase into the stone, destroying a part of the chest to pull the gem out of the statue. 

“Wait, not yet I’m not done!” he yelled just as he pulled the second gem from the throne and got out of the way. The statue crashed down into the throne, cracking the large chair. Once the dust settled he could see Ashe sitting on top of the rubble, gem glowing at her feet. “Why?” he asked, sighing as he once again felt that she just wanted to accidentally kill him on purpose.

Ashe growled a series of responses

“Without me, you’re not getting very far.”

She continued her purrs and growls that made up her language. It was an amalgamation of a cat, ferret, and lizard. Sometimes she sounded slimy.

“So you just don't care about my safety then, do you? I could have been smashed by all that!” he gestured wildly to the pile she stood on. “I’m done, I’m done!” he yelled as he lightly gripped the muted purple half-sphere in the second smaller slot on his glove. Ashe picked up the white gem in her mouth, hopped down off the pile of previously menacing monster, and headed for the door. As Ranai pulled the gem from the slot in his glove, she instantly phased. The smoke of her outline which normally contained itself into a form burst like a bubble and faded through the air. The gem she was carrying clinked to the floor a few hops and rolled a few feet to a stop.

“Why do you always fight me? It was your choice to bind with me, little one. We make a damn good team when you cooperate.” he mumbled to what looked like himself now as he leaned over to grab the white gem. Quickly tucked into a hidden pouch in his vest he scanned the area before heading to the the door with a skip. She could still hear and see the surroundings through his eyes but was now confined to the purple gem he held. He loved having her around. The beautiful little thing was mischievous just like himself and was always up for an adventure. She was bound to him through the use of an arc. Much like his weapon of choice but with more finesse behind it. His sword was bound to him through legend. It was originally a sword held by the Osina, Lady of Spiras, a noble that fought off the surges that threatened their society centuries before Ranai was ever born. He wasn’t even sure if the stories and legends behind the sword were true, but the wielder Osinar was and it was his life that fueled this arc. He picked it up while in a tavern years ago in Culsin Varia, accompanied by a lengthy story told by the merchant. An arc was a story or a memory with enough energy behind it to be solidified into a physical representation. 

Ashe was special. She was the stuff of legend after all. A fairytale of sorts. Ranai and his brother grew up listening to their mother tell stories of Ashe. Every kid did in their town had. 

You never forget your favorite fairytale.