If anyone had told Reyvadin that he was going to meet god, he would consider you a madman at best, or potentially an assassin at worst. If you told him that the devil was going to come to earth and bring upon a reckoning the likes that he’s never seen, the young noble would’ve already been twenty paces away. But reality was far stranger than fiction. A good book, a good story, has a sense of progression, pacing, and logic that seems obvious once you read the whole book. Even surprises can feel natural once you’ve seen what has been happening in the background.

So what the hells happened that day, that a demon and dragon would do battle on the mortal realm and with such power it could wipe out a mountain?

Nothing Reyvadin has witnessed or read before could’ve explained it to him. He’s seen blizzards bury towns in snow and ice. He’s seen ocean storms destroy a nord fleet in minutes. He’s even once witnessed the ground split open and swallow up a fortress (he later learned these things are called “Earthquakes”). But what he witnessed that day was none of that and more. For all the stories he read of demons and dragons they’ve been just that: stories. Creatures of fantasy meant to represent aspects of man that are often thought too powerful for mere mortals to handle. Indeed, the world doesn’t need the likes of demons and dragons to represent humanity's cruelty when humans are more than capable of turning into monsters themselves. So to see them in the flesh, and see them literally shape the world with their cataclysm clash… It was a stark reminder of Reyvadin's insignificance in this world. 

[b]”There's always bigger fish.”[/b]

Reyvadin survival during that disaster could only be attributed to either the gods' blessing or the devil’s luck. Like many he was flung into the air by the sheer force of the winds. And while most were broken by being smashed against the ground or impaled in trees, Reyvadin fortunately had only been slammed into a nearby tree, which he then was able to use as cover as more debris and bodies were thrown around. Even as his tree was uprooted, Reyvadin was able to find a sturdier tree to hang onto until winds had died. What was left was nothing, the ruined village they had found was reduced to a dirt lot, and even the forest nearby became at best naked trees and broken branches. This was well beyond the ability any human could bring forth.

Alas as awe-inspiring as that calamity was, Reyvadin needed to keep moving. He found one of the dead brigands and managed to take their knife, some of their supplies, and their clothing. A new cloak and some armor would go a long way to making it in this world. He managed to find some silver lordings among the ruins, and even a bent spear. While the spear blade itself was useless, Reyvadin simply removed the blade and kept the shaft. It was in much better quality than the previous sharpen branch he had previously.

After scavenging what he could, Reyvadin eventually found the others as well. While they weren’t looking great they were alive. And as scuffed their tactics were they lived, their enemies died, and thus they were the victors. Reyvadin wasn’t going to be too caught up in the what-ifs and should-haves. As the group traveled, they were soon joined by three strangers. They didn’t seem to be brigands (or if they were they were at least well mannered). The woman seemed to be a mercenary, and the elf-man seemed to be another criminal. Who caught Reyvadin’s eye was the burrowfolk. Unlike Migi, he seemed more polite. But it was the sort of politeness that Reyvadin gets from slave traders: hospitable and gregarious to their customers, and still wholly willing to profit off another man’s struggles and suffering. It made Reyvadin’s nostalgic. 

Travel was grueling. Reyvadin was no stranger to marches but he had little more than threadbare shoes he stole off the dead, and they were already getting worn down. Thus his feet were getting sore and blistered, and with their cloaks as the only form of comfort at night they often slept on cold, hard ground. It made Reyvadin miss a simple pair of good boots or a bedroll. But after two days of travel they finally managed to make it to civilization. Varone.

[b]“Aye, Skywatcher, let’s head on in. And watch your pockets. No doubt thieves are out and about to prey on the weak and naive today.”[/b]