Lorkhan Monastery stood above the granite cliffs on a peninsula jutting from the northern coasts of eastern Rhy'din. Built deep into the stone, it rose from the very earth to keep vigil over the tides. Each one of the buildings was unique, their construction marvels in architectural and alchemical achievement. The monastery however did not see their home as something to be prideful of, but as a timeless lesson in the heights of Alchemy. When it was built, the monastery was intended to be a place of balance, learning, and devotion to the one divine truth of Equivalent Exchange. Nothing can be gained without equal sacrifice. The Lorkhan monks held this belief dearly, and remembered always the eternal lessons of Yin and Yang. Each day, they would praise the sun for its light and remember always the brightest light cast the deepest shadows. Every night, they would praise the moon for its steadfast refusal to succumb to the darkness, and remember that even the darkest night is not without starlight.

But somewhere along the line, the Lorkhan monks stopped praising the moon. They forgot about the light in the darkness, and began to fear the night. Their balance became corrupted, their Yin and Yang ceased to be, and they sought the purity of only one half of the world. The spirits, despite their wisdom in many things, supported the monks faltering and enabled their straying from the path of true balance. Always, the monks believed they held to truth and that the purity they had come to hold so dear was the only way to keep the world from falling into chaos. They fought to banish the darkness, forgetting the truth they once knew better than their own souls. The brightest light' casts the deepest shadows.

It was to this monastery, the Great Spirit Guardian Ashinabe sent her son. Guided by his father, the Northwind, he trekked for many days and many nights to the Lorkhan Gates. He was a powerful man by this time, known as the Prince of the Northern Seas. But he was known by many names, and many titles" he was known as The Wielder of the Whirlwind, The Demon of the North, and also as the Wind of Cruelty. His name, was Captain Diritas Ventus Ashin. Raised by a pirate, who used his powers from a young age to become an admiral of many ships. The man sought to bring the northern seas under one flag, his flag. Establishing the oceans of Rhy'din as a sovereign nation under the Admiral's rule was Ashin's only goal in life, for that was he had been raised to do. But when the Spirit Ashinabe appeared and told him to go to the Lorkhan Monastery, Ashin could not get there fast enough.

Arriving at the Lorkhan gates, Ashin smiled to himself and tried to push them open. But it seemed that they were not gates at all. They were a single piece of strange metal. Ashin tried and tried, but no matter what he did he could not get through the gates. Every time he tried something, the gates stopped his attempt. When Ashin called upon his father's blood and tried to fly over the gates, he could not. When he called upon his mother's blood and tried to blast through them or go under them, he could not. Soon he lost his patience, and beat on the gates with mighty blows and screams stolen from the maelstroms of the northern seas. But even this did not open the Lorkhan Gates to Ashin. Finally, after many days of trying to force his way into the Monastery, he sat upon the ground and waited.

For weeks Ashin waited, never moving from his place. He summoned statues and brought them to life to bring him food. He melted his own magical ice to drink the water. He created storms above to wash him clean. And through it all, Ashin waited for the gates to open. He trusted in his mother and father, for they had sent him here. He did not call out, he did not attack, he waited peacefully.

After six months, there was finally a change. Around Ashin, there appeared a circle of Lorkhan monks outside the gates. They said not a word, but instead watched him and sat in that circle around him. So Ashin spoke no words either, and waited as well.

For six more months, they sat in that circle around Ashin. He waited calmly, careful to not let his living statues disturb the monks. He soon learned the monks could make their own food and drink, they could bathe themselves and never needed any material thing he could have offered them. He came to appreciate the monks, and they earned his respect.

A full year had passed since he had taken his place at the ground before the gates. Never had he moved, and never had he spoken a word. On the last night he sat there, under the full moon far brighter than any before, a monk finally stood and spoke to Ashin.

"You are the Son of the Guardian Ashinabe. She has entreated us for your entry. But before we open our gates to you, you must be purified." The hooded monk spoke slowly, purposefully. The others stood in the ring around Ashin, and still Ashin sat.

"I defer to your judgment good teacher. I have come on the word of my ancestors, and trust my fate to their hands." Ashin looked up to the monk who had spoken, his eyes full of determination. It was the last coherent thought he would have for many days.

The Lorkhan Monks have no further warning, and moving as one their hooded robes disappeared to reveal tattooed bodies clothed in simple cotton pants and sleeveless tunics. They slammed their palms to the ground, their tattoos glowing a bright white. Around Ashin, lightning struck the earth in great sweeping arcs" and still he did not move. A diagram appeared around him, glowing brightly in the darkness as Ashin was caught in the sudden flow of energy around him. He screamed and still the lightning struck, deep gouges crackling with the power of the heavens left in the earth around him. Ashin felt himself lifted up, floating above the diagram as deep within him something stirred. The monks had looked into him for this last year, carefully coming to know him for all he was both from a distance and up close. They had deemed him impure" and now they pulled the light from his soul, the Yang they had come to revere and the spirit blood of his father. They tore Ashin's soul in twain, the Yin and the Yang no longer balanced but instead separate.

The remnant of what Ashin had become was a Fragment, a soul incomplete. What had once been Ashin" now bore the name Diritas, for there was no more of his father within him. He was Cruelty, and darkness was his domain. Diritas screamed again, a howling inhuman rage that tore from his throat as his chest split open and a bloody mass dropped from his torso. The mass grew, slowly becoming a small child that mirrored what Diritas had once been. This child was the Fragment that bore the other half of his soul and all the connection to the spirit world that he had once wielded.

As the two Fragments of what had once been Ashin lowered to the ground, a monk stepped forward and caught the child gently. Diritas was left in a bloody heap at the Lorkhan gates, a great wound in his chest as the monks disappeared in a flash the same way they had come a year past.

For many years, the child was raised according to the tenets of the Lorkhan Monastery. He studied many arts, especially Alchemy. All his life however, he was plagued by the memories of horrible deeds committed by himself and the other fragment of his soul. The child was always told by his elders, that those deeds were the work of the darkness no longer a part of him. The memories served to drive him to achieve greater and greater things.

Eventually, he earned his tattoos and his staff. Twenty one years after Ashin had arrived at the Lorkhan Gate" The child, now a man, passed through the very doorway that had barred him in another life.

The Lorkhan Monks had heard whispers, traveling scribes who brought back tales of terrible deeds wrought by a Pirate with only half a soul. In their arrogance, the Monks had left Diritas to die and assumed he would. But unbeknownst to them, the dark fragment had survived" and now plagued the world with a vengeance. It was with a solemn vow, and a heavy heart that the Alchemist set off in search of his other half. For many days the Alchemist traveled, town to town as he followed the stories told by sailors and townsfolk who knew his face. For he wore the face of his other half, and that face was etched in the people's minds after the horrors they had endured. As he traveled, he did whatever he could to right the wrongs his counterpart had created. This slowed him, but he did not regret it because with every burn healed and every building repaired the Alchemist felt balance being restored.

After months of traveling and working he finally found the other half of his soul. They encountered each other for the first time since the Alchemist had been born upon the shoreline of a port city that now burned in the darkness of the night. The Pirate was larger than the Alchemist, taller by a foot and heavier by a hundred pounds. Cold midnight blue eyes stared back at him from beneath a crown of snow white hair. A coat of demon hide hung from the man's shoulders, a cutlass at his belt. But he was undaunted as he held his staff tight and confronted the darkness the monks had pulled him from.

"Diritas Ashin. By order of the Lorkhan Monastery, for your crimes against the balance of this world, you have been sentenced to death." He spoke strongly, conviction strengthening his spine. He knew what his dark side was capable of, and he knew he would win. Diritas did not speak, he simply attacked, and with great magic that shook the shores and enraged the seas. But the Alchemist was ready. When the earth shook, he took flight. When the sea became great dragons of living ice that attacked him, he turned them to stone. When the fires became a weapon against him, the Alchemist doused them. But still his dark half did not tire, and the Alchemist was soon exhausted. Though the two fought and clearly the Alchemist was stronger, his dark half wore him down. After three days, he stood trembling with exhaustion before the Pirate.

For the first time, the dark fragment spoke. "What is your name Alchemist?"

The Alchemist smiled sadly, spreading the wings of the Northwind behind him and vanishing" only a whisper of a name reaching the Pirate's ears.

"Ventus Ashin.?