Arash, Guardian of Bashani

Once a humble archer under General Hassan Madani during the 2nd Age, Arash made a name for himself as a prolific sharpshooter. Capable of taking down enemy officers from many metres away, Arash was recognized by his squadron leaders and, eventually, General Madani himself. Taking the archer into his personal guard, General Madani recruited Arash as the leader of the archer battalion. The master archer performed his duty to the fullest extent, forging the greatest ranged force in history. General Madani was famed for that very archer battalion, and Arash was known as the man responsible. Over the years, the two formed a close bond resembling that of a father and son.
Upon the death of the last Aeterian emperor, General Madani sought his own kingdom, and took to the east. Settling in the fertile planes of the Naram-Su and Irkalah rivers, Madani and his people founded the city of Al-Bashadd, built on the edge of the rivers and to the side of the mountain newly named Hassan's Spearhead. For 10 years, Hassan and his citizens built and expanded the city using the abundant resources of the nearby land. On the 10th year, the city reached reasonable completion, perfect for a burgeoning population to settle and grow. 5 years after the city's completion, the population of the new Bashani Kingdom, not yet an empire, spread for miles around the river valley, forming farming, mining, brickworking, and lumber communities.
Peace and prosperity, like all things, soon runs out. A rival of Madani's, a fellow general, established himself along the Imperial Sea. However, this general, now known as King Damas, was a poor ruler, driving his people to military service and keeping power through fear and cruelty. Running out of resources thanks to his foolhardiness, Damas resorted to his skillset and began conquering surrounding peoples. Razing, pillaging, and destroying everything in his path, King Damas soon found his way into the territory of Bashani. Committing the same atrocities, Damas began burning through the settlements, making sure to always leave one alive to deliver a message of doom to his old rival, Madani.
Madani was enraged and saddened for the loss of his people, and formed a military council to prepare for the inevitable war on the horizon. Organizing his legions for the first time in years, Madani ordered his greatest generals to combat Damas to keep him as far away from Al Bashadd as possible. Arash, however, was not sent; in the event the others failed, Madani wanted his most trusted soldier and friend by his side, defending the people of Bashani.
Unfortunately, this very fate came to be. Madani’s legions fell one by one to the superior tactics and training of Damas’ forces as they continued to advance on the capital city. Sending back a small clutch of refugees to Al Bashadd, Damas planted an assassin within their ranks to sow chaos. Brining the refugees into his own throne room to question and tend, Madani was taken unawares by the assassin, who produced a crossbow and fired it directly at the king. Arash, however, was close enough to act as a shield, throwing himself between the arrow and Madani. Firing his bow in the process, Arash killed the assassin, but was dealt a mortal wound himself.
Struck hardly an inch from the heart with the arrowhead stuck inside his chest, Arash, was practically on death’s bed when King Damas’ army was spotted on the horizon, a day’s march away. Mustering his remaining forces, Madani donned his war garb once again, pledging to defend his kingdom, his city, and his people with every breath he had in his body. Bidding Arash goodbye in the event the worst came to be, Madani then made for the war camp at the front gates, preparing his army for the final assault. He had only the night to prepare, and no time could be wasted.
Arash, however, could not let any ill fate befall his king nor his comrades, especially not if he still had life in his body and a weapon to wield. Rising out of his bed, donning his armor, and hoisting his bow, Arash left the infirmary, still injured, bleeding, and, truthfully, dying; the arrowhead was still lodged in his body, and with each movement, Arash came one step closer to bleeding out. Going to the front gates only to find them closed, Arash instead made his way to the southern end of the city, built against Hassan’s Spearhead. Making his way to the base of the mountain, in the dead of night, Arash began to climb. Nearly to the top of the mountain, Arash had the misfortune of grabbing a loose stone that shook free of the mountain side. Beginning to fall, Arash’s arrows fell out of their quiver, save for one that Arash managed to catch. Slamming the arrow into the dirt and stone of the mountain, Arash caught himself, though he had only one arrow left.
Finally reaching the top of the mountain with his single arrow in hand, Arash fought to keep consciousness. Dawn mere minutes from breaking, Arash witnessed the last of Damas’ forces rise above the horizon, a force so large and so intimidating that, in the very instant he saw them, Arash knew that there was no hope for Madani. Down below, the last warriors of Bashani and the king himself were filled with fear, but only for an instant; knowing the fate that would befall themselves, the soldiers knew that their last moments would have to be spent giving the people of the city the time to evacuate. Their fear turned to resilience and courage, mustering in them a devotion to the lives of the family, friends, and comrades they needed to protect; each and every soldier of Bashani stood resolute on the battlefield that day, welcoming death if it meant life for their people.
Nearly two miles from the battlefield, Arash began to feel that all was lost. His emotion was further exacerbated when he looked at the single arrow he had left and saw that its point was all but destroyed; blunted and bent beyond repair, it would be a miracle if it pierced a hay bale. However, like the soldiers at the city gates, Arash knew his life would end on that day. There was no more to fear, and everything to protect. Anything he could do to protect his city and his people would be done, no matter how impossible or deadly it was. So, Arash cut off the blunted arrowhead from the shaft, and plunged his fingers into his own chest. Tearing the assassin’s arrowhead out of his own body, Arash secured it to the end of the remaining arrow and nocked it to his bow.
With the removal of the arrowhead, a small incision was left on Arash’s heart, big enough to cause blood to flood his body and begin to fill his lungs; Arash was now unsaveable, sentenced to death by his own hand. Blood began to trickle from his mouth with every breath he took, and yet Arash raised his bow and drew back the string. With what was truly his dying breath, Arash spoke:
“My heart has always beat for my king, my people, and my kingdom. Now, condemned to death, I stand alone, but not in spirit. Would any and all who would witness my arrow see my thoughts, my prayers, my devotion in my final moments. I give everything I am to protect that which I love, and with it I make my arrow a radiant star of hope. With pride, I will die, but not before the meteor of my heart strikes true.”
Unknown to Arash, his words were recognized by the Maggi of the world as they forged the chains of the Blood Ritual. Coiling themselves around Arash’s body, the chains fixed the man to his arrow. As Arash closed his eyes and fired, the chains pulled him into the arrow and he became one with his missile, giving it the power of the meteor he had so desired with the life he had sacrificed.
On the horizon, King Damas rode to the front of his army to personally sound the charge. On the verge of his call, however, the king was overcome with a sense of dread as he turned his eyes to the mountain. His legions did the same, as well as every soldier and citizen of Bashani. Rocketing through the sky was what appeared to be a falling star, bathed in crimson light, and with it came a recognition that had no origin. Everyone who stood there that day, everyone who witnessed the falling star, knew who sent it, though only a few recognized the name: Arash.
Falling with the force of a meteor upon King Damas, the arrow caused an explosion of wind and force that wiped the king from existence and blew back soldiers for dozens of feet around. The impact left a crater, and kicked up a humongous dust storm that blinded much of the enemy legions. Madani, though shaken by the passed moments, knew this was his chance, and ordered his archer battalion to fire into the midst of the storm as he led the charge of the footmen. Sweeping upon Damas’ army like a wave upon the shore, Madani’s forces decimated their enemies, left in disarray after losing their commander and disoriented by the storm. Damas’ forces fled mere minutes into the battle, never to enter the borders of Bashani ever again.
The field of battle now empty, the soldiers of Bashani celebrated, hoisting their spears and swords into the air. Madani, however, searched for the fallen star that called out Arash’s name. Making his way down into the crater, Madani pulled the single arrow from the ground and recognized it immediately as one of Arash’s, carved and painted. The chains of the Blood Ritual made an appearance on the arrow, as well, but in the form of a painted design; the king did not suspect nor knew what he was looking at. Filled with fear and uncertain of the fate of his friend, the king ordered a search for the archer immediately upon his return to the city.
Only one scout returned, having found the arrows at the base of the mountain. Madani made a personal journey to the summit, where he found the broken arrowhead and bloodstains upon the ground. The king knew in that very moment that Arash had fired the arrow here, but what Madani did not know was the final fate of the archer. No body was found, and the wind of the mountain swept away any tracks that might have existed. Madani, holding out hope, decreed that Arash was lost, not dead, and merely needed to be guided back home. Ordering a monument built upon the summit, Madani decreed that an eternal flame would be lit, guiding Arash back to his kingdom no matter where he was in the world.
Madani also had a second throne commissioned, a more simple seat meant for comfort, not pomp. Upon it, he had the carpenters mount the arrow, marking it as a seat meant for Arash. Placed to the right side of Madani’s own throne, Arash’s seat was a declaration: Arash was always beside the king himself, and even when he was gone, he would always have a place next to the ruler of Bashani.
Arash became a true legend in Bashani. He was the lone star that struck down the greatest enemy the kingdom, now empire, had ever faced, ensuring not only survival, but prosperity. Arash was a protector of the people, a champion of the kingdom; not a single person could deny it, and not a single person ever will. The lone archer stands as the greatest hero of the Empire of a Thousand Eyes.
Arash was, and always will be, the Guardian of Bashani.