Everything was still.
The wind howled, the sheer rock face of the mountain crumbled slightly, and the ambient effect of nature resonated across the sky.
And yet, none of it mattered. Everything remained eerily calm.
Although it was odd, it was simply the basis of lifestyle atop the pinnacle of a mile high mountain in the heart of the tundra. Up there, the scarce, trace even, amounts of oxygen not only hindered human respiration, but created a sort of vacuum that mitigated sound.
The serenity made it an ideal place for concentration and philosophical exploration. Naturally, a complex temple sat at the flattened peak, home to an elite clan of sorcerers known as the Ethereals.
When they first came across the mountain hundreds of years ago, the ancestors of the present Ethereals decided the erection of the monastery would be their very first task. Thankfully, due to the powers they possessed, it was no difficult task for them. In a matter of seconds, the once stone barren mountaintop was now home to a beautiful structure of intricate detail, built not only for beauty but functionality, its interior serving as both apt working and living space.
In the years since its construction, the Ethereals remained extremely secluded. Their existence was barely even known to greater society, let alone the extreme capabilities they held. The monastery served as a threshold between the omnipotent magicians and the comparatively puny society beneath them. If both worlds crossed, it could mean negative things for both populations. Thus, both groups kept to themselves, one by choice, to avoid problematic relationships in the future.
Considering they spent their lives their, the people of the monastery obviously had complicated relationships with one another. Through the years of growth of the community, two parties grew to become the supreme governing bodies of the mountain. These clans were polar opposites and felt quite an amount of fury towards each other.
First, there were the Jaeter. Led by a brute elder who went by Urikard, the clan was composed more like a family. Urikard and his wife Halma were the sort of parental figures, and the rest of the party's members were all of their children. Everyone had a chance to have their opinions heard, and ultimately the grip the leader had on his group remained fairly loose.
On the other side of the spectrum, there were the Sodari. These conservatives followed a far more traditional form of power structure. Their president, Wendall, ruled classically, as well as with a firm grip, and occasionally, with an iron fist.
Compared to his Jaeter counterpart, Wendall was a ruthless leader. He had an extremely strict ruleset and itinerary, and found it disgraceful to break his sacred agenda. Beneath him, he had "officers" who helped him manage his role. Although they were slightly more lenient, their mindsets didn't variate much from their leaders. Suprisingly, nor did the majority of their population's.
Despite the fact they were nearly under dictatorship, the Sodari people seemed unfazed by the idea. They enjoyed their lives, even under his rule.
The two clans mostly kept to themselves, though they would rarely clash. When a communal decision needed to be made, the leaders had decided long ago that they would come to a consensus befitting the wellbeing of both their parties. However, this oftentimes descended into a cacophony of disagreement, often enraged disagreement.
Currently, that argument belonged to the topic of expansions to the monastery. The building had not been elaborated on since its initial construction, so the Sodari viewed change to such a historical piece devastating and disrespectful to the temple. On the other hand, the Jaeter thought much fonder of the expansion proposal, fully backing it. Urikard justifiably argued that the current boundaries were too confining for the half a million Ethereals that resided in the monastery. A expansion, he proposed, would help make the temple more livable for all, as well as improve its functionality.
This was such a pressing topic, in fact, that it sourced both leaders and their subordinates to a constant daily debate in the conference halls of the monastery. Day after day, hour after grueling hour, they droned on, repeating the same monotonous reasons to support their half of the argument.
That was, until they heard the knocking.
See, living thousands of feet high above the world, among the clouds, surrounded by people that suffered the same fate of isolation as you did — it wasn't very often you got contact with the outside world. So, obviously, knocking on the front door to the monastery was a huge deal.
It first came about in the middle of the day, when the two rulers were in a heated argument. The topic was not monastery expansion, but all that was proved irrelevant when one of the Sodari officers pointed out a faint clanking from the distant courtyard. Upon the silencing of the room, both of the leaders acknowledged it as well.
In an attempt to investigate, both groups marched to the courtyard, tallying over a hundred people. As they neared their destination, the sound clarified into the familiar yet frightening sound of the outer door knocker.
The visitor repeated their pattern intensely to the point where it became loathsome. Rap. Wait a moment. Rap. Another moment. Rap. There was then a longer pause, and it would begin again.
Unsure of how to respond to the situation, both the Jaeter and Sodari leaders stood among their parties in a mixture of confusion, awe, and fear. After another few sets of mind-numbing rapping, the knocking finally stopped once and for all.
Broken from the spell that seemed to previously encapsulate them, the group began to shift again. In trying to resolve the situation and prove there was no threat, Urikard began his walk toward the huge, circular, wooden double doors.
When he arrived, he reached out to place his hand on the handle. However, before he could make contact, an eruption of noise flooded the courtyard. Mere milliseconds later, the Jaeter leader came flying back toward the innards of the monastery, riding on the impact of the door's implosion.
The other side suffered a similar fate, crashing into and likely injuring a great number of the group gathered there. Meanwhile, Urikard took Wendall and a few others with him as he barreled toward the rear wall, contacting with the unnerving sound of stone cracking.
Everyone was obviously dazed by the blow, but Wendall, having been cushioned between two other large men, was the very first to rise. As his vision centered, in the clearing dust of the door, a silhouette was visible. Its leg was raised, implying it took out both 20 foot doors with a single mere kick.
"This isn't just games," Wendall thought to himself. "We're under attack!"
As the particles finally settled, the man lowered his leg, stepping into view. And then, suddenly, everything was still once again.