The Hunt for Ravan the Great

Captain Fadi and Quinn Forsythe stood in the shimmering temple and observed Ravan as he lay frozen in the mahogany casket. The amount of ice in which was Ravan was trapped filled the box to the brim and it appeared escape was hopeless.

“Is he dead?” the captain asked. “I thought you wanted him alive.”

“He’s asleep,” Quinn explained. “Fetch your men to put him in my wagon.”

Captain Fadi’s team carried the cold and heavy casket out of the temple and secured it to the back of Quinn’s wagon while Quinn and the captain casually followed behind.

“So you’ll be headed back to Duraland after your delivery, I assume?” the captain asked.

“Doubtful,” said Quinn. “First sunrise is more likely. Are you to send for your family?”

“Not with Ravan still alive. I can’t be certain the earl intends to execute him anytime soon, or that he will be successful in doing so.”

“So you intend to wait around to learn what he plans to do…?”

“No, there’s not much left for me here now that I’ve lost my employer. I imagine I’ll join my family in Bonn. The butcher will have to do without either of us.”

“He and the glassmith have been compensated generously, they’ll want for nothing. I appreciate your help, Captain.” Quinn placed a hand on the captain’s shoulder.

“And yours, sir,” the captain replied putting a hand on Quinn’s shoulder.

Ravan could hear nothing from his ice cage and he could hardly feel the motion of the wagon as he was rolled off to what he imagined would be the Rivas Prison before he would be taken to the prison in Schol, the capitol of Arderé where the emperor’s palace was located. If Ravan wasn’t able to escape en route to his first destination, his very last chance would be en route to Schol. Though truly, Ravan didn’t feel as though he’d manage to remain conscious for so long; he would have to break out of this ice cube as soon as possible. To his horror, the ice greatly suppressed his fire elemental abilities. Yet, some hope remained as he could still feel heat leave his body to create just the smallest bit of space between him and the ice. But at the rate the ice melted and the amount of energy it took to create the heat, Ravan was skeptical of timely success. Regardless, he was not going to give up without a proper fight and he continued to try. Soon, Ravan noticed that his surroundings grew familiar and once he found himself beneath the awning which hung over a pair of tall, white double doors, Ravan knew exactly where he was. He never expected this bounty hunter would bring him here of all places.

~~~

Quinn pulled up to the double doors of Firebrush Manor with the Ravan Exhibit still tightly secured to the back of his wagon. The guards immediately fetched a handful of men to bring the frozen casket inside and summoned Earl Farzaad to the drawing room. The casket was set on the floor between the fireplace and the small cedar table. Soon after, the earl entered. He paused in his step and almost hid behind the potted shrub placed beside the entryway when he noticed there was a casket in his drawing room.

“This is no one you care about, my Lord,” said Quinn.

Farzaad glanced at the man who spoke and immediately recognized Quinn to make the connection. One could almost see the terror leave the earl’s body. He gulped, then raised his eyebrows at Quinn. “You had to kill him then, I take it.”

“Not at all,” said Quinn as the earl approached to peer into the casket. “I simply froze him; he’s only sleeping. You may defrost him at any time you please to kill him yourself.”

Quinn and Farzaad gazed at Ravan and were startled when Ravan glanced back at the earl.

“What the – ” Quinn exclaimed. “How is that possible? He’s supposed to be in a deep sleep!”

The earl laughed maniacally. “Relax, my friend! This is even better! He’s awake and fully aware that he has lost the war! Can he hear me?”

“I couldn’t say for sure, no one’s ever been awake while in a deep freeze to be able to tell us anything once they’re freed.”

“Never mind that, hopefully he can hear me.” Farzaad addressed his men. “Have him hung above the mantle in the dining room, I want the task finished before supper is served!”

“Yes, my Lord,” the men replied.

Farzaad faced Quinn. “It is a bit late to set sail tonight, but I can’t say I’m disappointed as I would be proud to call you my guest of honor at supper tonight. You may sleep here and head to port first thing in the morning. Please say you will accept my invitation.”

“I’d be grateful to partake in your hospitality, my Lord,” Quinn replied. He glanced warily at the casket as Farzaad’s men carried it out of the drawing room. Normally Quinn would’ve denied the earl’s invitation, but he couldn’t help feeling both intrigued and worried about Ravan being completely awake and conscious inside that block of ice, and he preferred to be present should anything happen.

Ravan found it helpful that these men were less than gentle while carrying him and mounting him to the wall above the grand fireplace. It supported his fight against succumbing to sleep, but once the task was completed the struggle was relentless yet again. He absolutely needed to break free tonight lest his mind shut down involuntarily and he be trapped in nothingness forever. Fortunately, he started to notice that accessing his fire elemental abilities grew minutely easier as he continued to use them. The change was so miniscule that it was hardly noticeable, but Ravan trusted that it was there.

Ravan continued to work to melt the ice and fought to stay awake all throughout supper. He watched as the young earl feasted like a king and laughed heartily, often gesturing to Ravan, clearly mocking him. This, too, gave Ravan the strength through anger to remain conscious and burn through the frost. Every once in a while, Ravan caught Quinn glancing warily his way, which had the opposite effect on him to the earl’s attention. Fortunately, the earl always seemed to mock him soon after and his strength was quickly restored.

Then came the time when everyone took to their beds and Ravan was left hanging there with the dim glow of a couple lamps to gently illuminate the dining room for when the guards did their rounds. He continued to fight sleep and melt the ice, but the effort was draining him of his much-needed energy. He blinked hard and opened his eyes wider, attempted to move, whatever it took to just stay awake, but his eyelids burned and seemed to grow heavier with every passing minute. It wasn’t long before sleep started to feel like a wonderful idea after all…

Soon, Ravan’s energy was but an ember in his soul. He took the flames of one of the lamps and tossed them into the fireplace beneath him where he gave it time to build and blaze. Meanwhile, he used the flames from the rest of the lamps to rekindle his energy for nothing more than to just stay awake. Anything, whatever it took to just stay awake. Ravan stole so much energy from the lamps that he snuffed them out completely, and even still his weary mind fought against him. When he felt that the fire below flared in full force, Ravan stole energy from it too and after some time he felt he was well enough again to melt the ice a little more. Soon, he had wiggle room, and a puddle of water submerged his feet. Now that he had finally received evidence of his progress, he had a little more hope and motivation to keep trying and to continue fighting.

And so Ravan fought all through the night into the early morning, which required all the heated energy from the flames beneath him. At last, there was enough room inside the ice cube to lean his head against the frosty wall, though he had to continue to fight the urge to close his eyes. He glanced to the only window in the dining room and noticed the dim gleam of sunlight which peeked through the curtains. Ravan decided to wait for the servants to enter to relight the fireplace and provide him with more energy before he continued to melt his prison. He didn’t have to wait long before a handful of servants entered to light the lamps, torches, and fireplace, after which they began to set the table for breakfast. During this time, Ravan was desperate enough to not only steal the heat from the light sources and fireplace, but from the servants themselves who shivered while they worked.

“Brrr, it’s freezing in here!” said one servant.

“It is,” said another. “Probably because of the giant ice cube they cleverly hanged above the hearth.”

The servants hastily finished their breakfast tasks and hurried out of the room so that Ravan was left to take the energy he needed from the renewed fire below him. Now the puddle had passed his ankles and the scene beyond the cube grew clearer. He’d be out of there before noon, that much was certain. He only needed the ice cage just a little thinner and then he’d be able to burst through.

It didn’t feel like it was much longer before the earl, along with his family and guests, sat in their same spots at the table to feast on their hearty breakfast. Ravan absolutely wanted to escape before luncheon; he wasn’t about to hang above the earl’s mantle for another day, or even half a day. Ravan stole the heat from the food and willed it to attack the ice, and the food was cold to the taste once the guests were served.

“This food is frozen solid,” said an older woman who winced and dropped her roll back onto her plate.

“What is this?” asked an elderly gentleman. “Are the servants talentless?”

“Do accept my apologies,” said the earl as he held his hands over the table. “I’ll heat the food for us this morning and address whoever’s at fault in the kitchen once we’re finished.”

Ravan next stole the heat from the guests themselves and they all shivered in their seats.

“There’s no need to take the heat from us to do so,” said another man at the table.

The earl was flustered. “I was not, I’m cold now too. There must be a mischievous imp among us.” He addressed one of the servants beside him who also held herself to get warm. “Have we hired a new servant recently?”

The servant shook her head. “No, my Lord. Actually it was particularly cold in here when we were preparing the room for breakfast.”

Finally the fire in the fireplace flickered dead and the lamps and torches were snuffed out, which left everyone sitting terrified in the darkness; except for Quinn, of course, who understood what was happening and drew his sword.

“What in the dark blazes is going on here?” growled Earl Farzaad.

Here, the large frozen slab which hung above the earl’s mantle shuddered and vibrated until it tumbled forward and exploded with a shattering BOOM. Ravan landed at the center of the table, his wet clothes and hair releasing steam into the air. The pieces of exploded ice landed in various places about the dining room and sizzled into tiny puddles. The stunned breakfast guests did not dare to move, mortified over the incredible display of power which Ravan had demonstrated. However, Ravan did not feel as powerful as he appeared and he desperately needed to find a place to crash and sleep. He noticed the reactions of those around him though, and he decided to use their terror to his advantage.

“I am going to walk off this estate,” Ravan grumbled, “and no one is going to stop me.”

Ravan waited a breath to see if anyone would challenge his words, particularly Quinn who was already brandishing a sword. When nobody moved, Ravan hopped off the table and strolled out the double doors of the dining room. The earl beckoned for Quinn to go after him, but Quinn shook his head and mouthed the words, “We’ll talk.”

Once Ravan was out in the courtyard, he caught sight of a sentry mounted on a horse. The sentry recognized Ravan and his eyes grew wide with horror. Ravan waved dismissively at him.

“Off,” he demanded. The sentry failed to move so Ravan drew his sword. “Off!”

Here, the sentry jumped off his horse and stepped back with his hands raised. Ravan stowed his sword and mounted the horse to immediately gallop off the estate. Fortunately, the rough ride allowed Ravan to remain awake just a short while longer until he reached his destination: the mausoleum. Ravan slapped the horse on the rear to get it to run off so that it didn’t give away his sanctuary. Then he forced his way through the heavy doors, stumbled down the stairs to the musty lower level, and collapsed on the damp floor where he passed out immediately.

~~~

Once Ravan had fled the estate, Earl Farzaad lit the lamps and fireplace again, then addressed Quinn.

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Might we speak privately, my Lord?” Quinn asked.

This request appeared to inconvenience the earl on a high level, but after a moment of contemplation, he addressed his guests.

“Please excuse us.”

The earl gestured for Quinn follow him and they adjourned to the drawing room across the way from the dining room.

“What am I missing here, Forsythe?” Farzaad demanded.

“I made the mistake of underestimating Ravan,” Quinn confessed.

“How do you mean?”

“He is much more talented than I had anticipated.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You only know Ravan from childhood, is that right?”

“Yes!”

“Did you ever witness him display abnormalities with his abilities?”

“I never witnessed him display anything at all! Where are you headed with this, Forsythe?”

“My Lord, none of that was supposed to happen,” Quinn insisted. “Ravan should’ve fallen into a deep sleep immediately and there is no way he should’ve been able to break out of that or access anything beyond those ice walls! I’ve never even heard of stories of that happening and he accomplished all of it in less than a day! I was aware that he was more talented than most, but now I suspect he’s of the few capable of wielding lightning; that’s the only possible explanation for this.”

Farzaad scoffed. “Spare me, Forsythe. I understand this is a black mark on your record and your ego must be hurting tremendously, but let’s not make up extraordinary excuses. Ravan is only half fire elemental, there’s no way he could be capable of such a feat.”

“What’s his other half?” Quinn inquired.

“Human,” Farzaad answered with a shrug.

“So he’s naturally intelligent and he could learn.”

Farzaad rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t say he’s so intelligent. Listen, Forsythe, if you’re too afraid to go after Ravan and finish what you’ve started, I won’t hold it against you.”

“I don’t believe you’re listening, my Lord.”

“You’re correct, I’m not. Your theory is preposterous and I see no reason to give it any credence. All that I care about is whether or not you intend to go after him.”

The two men glared at each other for a long moment and Quinn finally said, “It will require resources.”

Farzaad nodded. He should’ve expected this. “What do you need?”

~~~

Quinn’s first order of business was to learn who had trained Ravan and obtain some detailed information from whoever that was if possible, but apparently whoever that person was, he was keeping it tightly under wraps. Quinn managed to acquire the names of a number of master centurions in the country and he researched those who were local first for any possible connection to the late Earl of Rivas, Ravan, or Ravan’s mother. He found little in that regard, so he researched the centurions’ employers for the same. Again, there was nothing documented, but perhaps there wouldn’t be since this was Ravan the Great he was researching, after all. Who would document helping the man? So Quinn resorted to exploiting Farzaad’s resources and sent spies to these employers’ dwellings, which turned out to be his most useful tactic.

While Quinn sat in Pieces Tavern milking a stein of mead, an undercover centurion entered to sit at his table. He handed over a piece of parchment folded many times over and wrapped in twine. Quinn accepted the message, unfolded it, and read it to himself. It was a lengthy message, so it took some time, but within the writing Quinn learned who had trained Ravan and why. He showed no reaction as he folded the note back up and pocketed it.

“Very good,” said Quinn. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Very well, sir,” said the centurion, and he quit the bounty hunter’s presence.

During this entire process, which took approximately half a month, Quinn had also been searching for Ravan, but the closest he got was word that Ravan had been spotted near the public stables by the Mael Library. Of course, this wasn’t concrete enough for Quinn to act on it. He hoped he could learn something more useful from Captain Ilya.

~~~

Ravan slept for two weeks straight (eight days), and when he finally awoke again he felt weaker than he ever had before. Since he had no calendar, his lack of strength was the only sign he had to tell him he’d slept through multiple days. The number of days grew somewhat clearer when he attempted to stand and his knees failed to provide him purchase. His condition was serious. He was forced to take a moment to prepare himself to crawl up the stairs, which was an excruciating, slow-going process. Ravan used every muscle in his body to slither up the stairs like a dying snake. When he finally reached the doors, he simply laid there on the floor for a moment to catch his breath. It came to Ravan’s attention that he would not reach a point where he would feel strong enough to continue, but he had to reach a source of water. So he resolved himself to push the doors open and exit the mausoleum.

Immediately, Ravan basked in the rays from the suns and soaked them up to fuel himself with just enough energy to crawl a short distance to a stream which trickled just beyond the cemetery. At long last, Ravan made it to the stream and he lapped up water like the dying animal that he was. He stopped drinking once he started to feel sick and flipped over onto his back to soak up more rays from the suns. That was when he realized that he had failed to verify whether he was alone or not. He quickly glanced around his bearings and relaxed again when he confirmed no one else was around. Ravan was fortunate in more ways than one on this day.

After drinking more water and soaking up enough sun to be able to stand again, Ravan slowly ventured into town in search for food, nearly limping due to how heavy his sword felt at his side. Ravan also found this to be a good opportunity to obtain that day’s pamphlet, which was how he learned exactly how long he had been asleep and how far it had set him back.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any past pamphlets, would you?” Ravan asked the press.

“I’m sure I have some spare copies from the past couple of days. Give me one moment.” The press returned from the back room with five pamphlets. “Here, go ahead and keep ‘em.”

Ravan paid the man anyway. “I appreciate it.”

Ravan brought the pamphlets to a new tavern and read over them while he ate and drank. Unfortunately, he learned nothing from them which was relevant to his quest. Normally, Ravan would’ve frequented the tavern to learn the information he sought through gossip, but he had already lost two weeks and didn’t feel he had any more time to spare. He had to come up with a quicker way to learn what he needed to know now, but he didn’t even know where to begin in that regard.

Ravan pulled out his journal to review the notes he had taken on Captain Fadi a while back and a couple things stood out to him. He was reminded of the captain’s friendships with the butcher and glassmith, he apparently had good standing with a couple noblemen, and he owned an inn. Ravan felt these were the more likely locations to find the captain. So for the next few weeks, Ravan surveilled these areas, and he questioned the staff and servants, but he was only able to verify that the captain was not present. Additionally, the home where the captain had lived with his family had a new family inside, which told Ravan the captain had moved, likely far away.

So Ravan consulted his journal again, and a piece of information that at first had seemed trivial was now suddenly relevant: the captain had family in Bonn. Ravan didn’t even bother to check ship records, he knew that’s where the captain had gone. The real question was: where in Bonn? He had probably changed his name once he had arrived, so he wouldn’t be able to ask around. Ravan’s options in his journal were Mayline and Belle. So his next course of action was to purchase a voyage to Bonn and search the homes of Captain Fadi’s families. He felt fortunate to find a ship which set sail to Bonn the following morning, and boarding provided him an extreme sense of relief. There was nothing left for Ravan in Arderé except the worst memories and ardent enemies. For the entire two months, Ravan found peace in the voyage and he basked in the purpose of his journey. Soon, his call for revenge would be fulfilled.

~~~

After much back and forth correspondence between Quinn Forsythe and Captain Ilya, Quinn eventually managed to convince the captain to meet with him in regards to Ravan the Great. It was clear to Quinn that Captain Ilya was not proud of the fact that he was the one to train Ravan in his ways. The captain insisted they meet on the snowy winter beach where he would build a campfire in an area that was wide open and he could spot an intruder before they were close enough to hear them talk. So Quinn rode his horse through the snow to the icy beach in search for this campfire and sure enough, Captain Ilya spotted him before he was close enough to hear the crackling of the firewood. Once he was beside the captain, Quinn dismounted his horse and took a seat on the log next to the captain.

“Good afternoon,” Quinn greeted.

“Good afternoon,” Captain Ilya replied. He handed Quinn a warm cup of toddy.

“Thank you,” Quinn said as he took the sip and sipped from it.

“So what is it that you are so desperate to know about my time with Ravan the Great?” Captain Ilya inquired.

“I need to know what exactly you taught him,” Quinn answered.

“You mean besides how to wield a sword?”

“Yes.”

“I taught him how to read his opponents, how to stalk his targets, how to improve his fire wielding, how to utilize his settings…”

“Did you teach him how to wield lightning?” Quinn asked.

“No! No, absolutely not. Even I can’t wield lightning. Why – has Ravan demonstrated such an ability?”

“No quite, but he has demonstrated very impressive skill with his talents to the point where it has made me wonder,” Quinn explained. “What exactly did you teach him in regards to fire-wielding?”

“I taught him how to extract energy from even the simplest of resources, how to manipulate fire which someone else has claimed or created, how to improve one’s ability to build up an already existing flame, things of that nature.”

“Could he potentially use any of this knowledge to obtain the ability to wield lightning?” Quinn asked.

Captain Ilya considered his answer. “I suppose potentially, yes. But it’s such a rare circumstance I don’t see it happening, to be honest. But I suppose I couldn’t say for certain considering I’m not entirely aware of what it takes to get to that level.”

Quinn nodded in understanding. “Do you know anyone who can wield lightning?”

“I wish I did. I haven’t even heard of one in the area. I can’t imagine Ravan found anyone.”

Quinn sipped his toddy. “What else did you teach him?”

“Basic survival techniques: where to find water, what is edible in the wilderness, how to tend to wounds, where to hide, how to interrogate… I can’t think of anything else besides these things.”

“What were your instructions for hiding techniques?”

“Places that were less-likely to be considered such as library basements, mausoleums, rubbish management, warehouses, the like. Or out in public places where people are mostly paying attention to each other rather than what’s happening around them. However, I wouldn’t search for Ravan based on this.”

“How would you search for Ravan?”

“Where is Captain Fadi?”

“Captain Fadi is no longer in this country.”

“Then I assure you, neither is Ravan.”