Welcome. Im glad to see you returned. It has been some time since we last met. In case you had lost some memory, allow me to refresh it for you. I am telling you the story of one young man, whose impact on the whole Realm of Arda he knew only after it had happened. A scholar, historian, and illusionist (as was his family gift), Erik Browden was an average human who had a few tricks up his sleeves. Today, however, he would meet a new and frighteningly powerful turn in the twisting tale of his fate.

Erik poured over the wording before him. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of the library, in a dark corner, Erik studied the book carefully. Searching, researching, investigating for answers of every sort. Learning more and gaining wisdom in the past of Arda. The old and hard to read writing was opposing the young historian at every turn, but he fought on the good fight. Turning a thin, yellowed page, Erik began his duel with the next foe.

Faint footsteps coud be heard, heading towards Erik, but no person was seen. It did not surprise nor cause him to be wary, however, because it was simply his unseen servant. A book was seen, appearing to be floating in midair, which gracefully made its way to the floor next to Erik where it landed softy. The pitter-pattering of the servant's busy feet travelled off again, to find another book which may reveal a cipher or some translation to make it easier to understand the current one being studied.

A feeling had entered the streets and alleyways of Lomedor. A thought, a whisper, a emotion. Something was awry. Erik was desperately searching for the answer. For he knew the feeling all to well. Others had forgotten, but not he. No, the Illusionist would never forget. Never. Strange and powerfull forces were at work.
A way had to be found to prevent the one fear from being released.

Concentrating hard, Erik slowly deciphered the strange meaning of the words. "...a fear, a fear, a one known fear. Forgotten but never erased from the minds of those whom... a prey, a wearisome prey... comfort, false comfort befell them before the day...

(A part of the page is missing, and words are too smudged to be read in some places.)

... square two will spring it... cold clear prison in the heat... a shadow, a maiar, a debtor, and a sc..."

Eriks eyes widened in response. He had finished the last word in the string himself.
The man quickly shut the book and set it down. His heart sank hard and fast, and a strange, inky feeling came over his fingers. Like he was dirty. Erik rubbed his face stressing over it. Then, a thought came to him. A ray of hope! What if it wasn't him? Somebody else? That would have to be it! Erik was positive it was his destiny to stop, not aid, this horrid thing.

Then, something went awfully awry. Erik had always been attentive to his surroundings, near impossible to sneak up on. A necesarry trick if you were to keep your secrets safe as an illusionist. The dark corner he was sitting now was now black. The space beyond seemed an eternity away. He was trapped...

Xoco had been instructed on what to do by the Shadow, who he had met earlier in the Swamp. It seemed a very simple task: convert one book-buried scholar into the ranks of evil. It was foretold by the prophetic shapeshifter that this man’s services were needed, one way or another, to free a Chaos elemental by the name of Tithdaeron. Xoco had agreed to help simply because bringing back Tithdaeron would prove a thorn in Ita’s side. Doing her a disservice by returning one of her most strongly disfavored subjects would be a subtle attack that likely would just provide some comedic entertainment. If not, it was always possible that some good fighting could ensue, which would provide a much different form of entertainment. Either way, Xoco had little else better to be doing at the moment.

However, to do this out of boredom was not quite the entire explanation. The Acrid Shadow had been very convincing when last Xoco had spoken to him. The shapeshifter’s prophetic abilities combined with his mystical demeanor lead Xoco to believe perhaps there was something genuinely interesting going on here. Sure, annoying Ita and picking on her subjects was always enjoyable, paranoid as she was. But that was not something that would fully propel Xoco into an effort like this. He was really interested in how this would play out.

Xoco had been told that his target, persay, would be studying in the Lomedor library as always. As he entered the building and began to ascend a staircase, he reviewed his course of action. The plan was very simple, really. First, Xoco would create an optical illusion using his element, making it seem as though the both of them were somehow removed from the physical world. To turn the tables on an illusionist like this had a certain irony that was too sweet to pass up. They would be mostly alone, in a dark corner of the largest library in the entire land. Xoco would have a good talk with him. If efforts at peaceful persuasion failed, use of force was acceptable to ensure the scholar’s compliance.

Sure enough, as Xoco made his way onto the third floor of the library, there was the illusionist, huddled behind many a large volume of lore, sitting at a wooden desk reading. The floor was deserted save for the lone scholar. Xoco doubted anyone could actually read half the books up here anyway, for they were all written in some long-forgotten tongue of a time since passed. Xoco set to work, firstly commanding his shadows into the necessary alignments. It would appear to the illusionist that he was being sucked away from mortal existence. In truth he stayed put, the shadows converging around him in a small globe. At first, Xoco’s illusion was unnoticed by the illusionist. Then, when he looked up, Erik noticed, and a look of terror swept over his face.

Xoco walked briskly the few feet over to the corner, and made a grand entrance, seemingly walking across the blackness of the abyss. The illusion had apparently had it’s full effect recognized. Xoco spoke.

“Greetings.”