[h1][center]The Origin[/center][/h1][h3][center]The Beginning[/center][/h3][i][h3]The City of the Divines[/h3][/i]
The golden City was forever bathed in light though there was no sun in the sky. Their home circular in shape, the people of the City were constantly travelling from place to place throughout the eternal day. There was no land beyond the City, as at the edge the ground suddenly disappeared, leading to nothing but a gaping abyss where the light eventually faded into far below.

There were many buildings of various sizes and shapes throughout the city, but in the center was a Tower that extended high above everything else. Up into the air it stretched, and from its base one would have to look up almost too far to see the top. Though most within the City would never see what was inside, that day the room at the top was active. The room was circular like the City, and windows to one side perfectly split the room between Light and Dark. The room was divided into eight sections, with one circular section in the center and seven surrounding it as wedges. Each section had a throne and the one in the middle was the most grand of all, though it was the only one that was empty.

The other seven sections had varying amounts of people in it, from just a single person sitting upon the throne, to a few with some others surrounding the person in the throne, and then even whole crowds surrounding the one upon the throne. The room was extremely loud though it was from all those who were standing as the ones in the thrones didn't say a word. Those in the thrones either seemed to glow slightly or radiate a sort of darkness, depending on which side of the room they were on, with the individual who was split down the middle by the light and dark impossibly creating both sensations at once, to either side-

[b][i]"Enough!"[/i][/b] This voice easily cut through all the noise and came from one of those in the thrones. Instantly, the room went silent, save for this one individual. [b][i]"Bickering will take us nowhere farther! We need to take action!"[/i][/b]

[i][b]"It is not our place to take action. We have all seen the signs of the Original's return- We cannot prevent it, only accept it."[/b][/i]

[b][i]"Does not free will apply to us as well?"[/i][/b]

[b][i]"How much time do we have left...?"[/i][/b]

[b][i]"Years, at best. The blink of an eye."[/i][/b]

The bickering would continue, but now it would only be between those Seven, whose voices overwhelmed all...

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[i][h3]Unknown[/h3][/i]
The black City was forever bathed in darkness, not a moon or star in the sky. Their home circular in shape, the people of the City were constantly moving back and forth in it throughout the eternal night, killing and screaming. There was no land beyond the city, as at the edge the ground suddenly disappeared, leading to nothing but a gaping abyss where the dark grew even deeper.

There were many buildings of various sizes and shapes throughout the city in varying levels of ruin, but in the center was a Tower that extended high above everything else. From the ground, its top could not be seen through the dark. Though most within the City would never see what was within and had no desire to do so, that day the very top room had an occupant. The room was circular like the City, and the darkness within was so thick it almost appeared solid. The room was divided into eight sections, one circular section in the center and seven surrounding it as wedges. Each section had a throne, and each was decayed from disuse or even shattered against the ground. Only one had someone within it, and it was the throne in the center.

Slowly, the figure within the throne would begin to rise. It was tall, thin, and clothed in dark material with a hooded cloak over it all. What skin that showed was an unnatural white and almost seemed to glow. Though Its form was mostly solid, at the edges Its outline was slightly distorted, dissolving away into vicious energy and tendrils. This degeneration would go up to curl around the rest of Its form in sinister curves, constantly morphing and changing. Even the clothes It wore seemed to writhe and twist every so often, as if they were living. Golden eyes blazed from under that hood, and a terrible smile of sharp teeth began to appear on Its face as It stretched, disgusting popping filling the air as limbs shifted unnaturally, twitching in all of the wrong places.

[b][i]"Alright then, my little chickadees... Time to get to work."[/i][/b]

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[i][h3]To the East[/h3][/i]
Her sharply red eye snapped open in a moment. Slowly she brought her hand up to cover it, before stretching out both arms above her head. For a while she remained in the bed before slowly turning and pulling her small form from it, bluish-silver hair falling into place. In the faint light her skin seemed to shimmer slightly with her paleness. Even as she stood her form shifted, from that of a teenager to a child slightly younger, and then back again. She stepped forwards as she glanced around that very familiar room, its shades of red comforting and familiar to her, as they had been for years.

One bath later, it took her only a matter of moments to get herself dressed as shadows brought the clothes to her. Carefully placing the fine clothes on of both pale and deep red with some black and silver, she finished the look by placing her mob cap on her head. One quick glance to the mirror, and she turned to leave, blinking both eyes as she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway-

[b]"Richard, I do hope you're ready. There's plenty of work to be done."[/b]

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[i][h3]To the West and North[/h3][/i]
Quietly he stood on the balcony, both of his hands resting upon the stone. He was a tall man, with powerful features and long, dark hair. He wore dark armor of black, deep purple, and silver, and the clawed gauntlets on his hand shone in contrast with their bright silver metal. High above the ground he only looked forwards to the horizon, eyes of mixed silver and gold unblinking as they examined the distance, and saw far beyond what any “normal” eyes should have been able to see. For years he had watched the results of his labors, taking a passive role...

But now everything was twisting and tearing, and that was more than enough to get him to act. Down he finally looked, to what was below and all around the castle: a massive army of soldiers in dark armor, all looking up to him while watching and waiting. The force was easily many thousands strong, tens of thousands, and yet there wasn't a single sound. Slowly, he brought one of his hands up, the clawed finger of a gauntlet pointing forwards, before he slowly waved his hand to the side.

[b][i]"Go forward, and crush all."[/i][/b]

His voice, as calm as it was, was easily heard by all. It was then that down below the shouting would begin, almost like religious chanting from the soldiers. As they brought fists against armor and weapons together, they began to almost scream the same title over and over again:

[b]"MAZURA! MAZURA! MAZURA!"[/b]

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[i][h3]Barcea, Southwestern Region[/h3][/i]
The sun shone brightly that day in the southwestern part of Barcea, though a light breeze kept the heat at bay. It was just past midday, to be precise. The roads in that part of the nation were simple but well-worn, more than enough for horses to be ridden on. It curved up from a westerly route to a northern one in a slow and not always consistent turn, over a distance of many, many miles. To either side of the road was fields of grass, with a forest in the distance to the south.

There was nothing else nearby for the group that travelled together on the road that day. They were on their way to a village that was a fair distance ahead and still out of sight, and were coming from another village that was an even farther distance away by that point in their travel. Birds flew overhead every so often, and the faint outline of deer could be seen in the distance, but beyond that there was nothing for the group to really see except for the road and surrounding grass.

For the most part this group went in a line. At the front was a relatively tall man who sat proud in the saddle of his black horse. He was dressed in blue and white for the most part; a blue, fine travelling shirt with long sleeves (that were pulled up for the day), blue pants, dark grey boots that matched the color of his gloves, and a white cape that was attached to one shoulder. His hair was dark but not black, instead a shade of almost-blue in color. At his side was a sheathed blade, and hanging from the horse were various bags.

It was clear this man was leader of the group. He looked ahead constantly and all around every so often. Every once in a while he would look back to the second member of the group. She rode a white horse and though her head was usually up, she didn't see anything at all. In a white travelling dress, her hair was just as white, as were the fresh bandages carefully wrapped around her eyes. She only had one small bag that day that she kept on her at her side.

Behind them all was another man, just a little shorter than the first. He was dressed much more simply than the other two, wearing worn hunting clothes of faded browns and greens. He had blond hair that was long enough to reach his shoulders. Over his shoulder was a quiver of arrows, and resting next to it was a bow.

These first was Prince Cyril Serio, the second Princess Ayano Serio, the third the Sentinal Alasa, and their business that day was Sentinel related. The Sentinels were a group of individuals that the Prince had found and recruited himself. They were of varying classes and origins; there were people from all over the eastern continent within their ranks. They were a symbol of the royalty's, specifically the Prince's, commitment to the betterment of and protection of the people of Barcea.

The purpose of that day was to show one of their new "recruits" the ropes. That recruit was no one other than the Princess herself. Despite her blindness, she had always wanted to be a part of the Sentinels ever since Cyril had formed them years before, and finally he was starting to humor her a little. There was no harm in taking her on simple patrolling trips like this, especially since they wouldn't be getting too close to any borders.

He pulled back on the reins to slow his horse some, dropping back to be next to Ayano's. Her horse, trained to follow along, dropped back just a little once Cyril was in place, but barely enough to make any difference to the royals. He reached over to lightly tap her on the shoulder, which made her turn her head over to him and smile. Though she couldn't see it, he returned the smile as he spoke.

[b]"So, what do you think so far, Ayano?"

"Seems like just a lot of riding so far to me!"[/b]

Cyril laughed a little as he shook his head some. [b]"Yes, there is a lot of riding, but that's the point. Sometimes we do this for days on the longer patrols."

"Oh..."

"And that means we have to hunt for our food, and cook it over a fire for ourselves."

"... Oh..."[/b] Ayano's face began to turn a slight green tint, which made it even greener as she smelled it on herself. Sometimes, the ability to sense colors was a double-edged sword like this, but there were ways to deal with it. One of these she immediately reached for, pulling a purple cloth from her bag. Holding it to her face, she began to inhale deeply.

Cyril chuckled, reaching over to mess with her hair some as he looked back forwards. Behind them, Alasa remained vigilant as the rear guard, though a little more relaxed than he would have been in a dangerous area. Here though was a perfect example of the peace that Barcea loved so much.

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[i][h3]H'kela-Barcea Border Region[/h3][/i]
They were not yet aware of how to the northwest the forces of H'kela were already on the march and making their way southeast. A few hundred men were on the move, heavily armed and prepared for pillaging. The smaller Barcean villages that were set even near to the border were their targets. They would focus on the weaker targets for the time being, avoiding the larger towns or anything farther within the borders. This attack would be one to send a message, and to spark a war long in the coming.

Was it luck or fate that placed the Prince, Princess, and Sentinel on the road where they were, so far separated from any village? Was it a mixture of both, or had there been true interference? Whatever it was, their lives were saved simply because of the time they had left the previous village that morning. Slaughter would follow at that village soon after.

They had no way of knowing yet, but they would soon enough.

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[i][h3]The Capitol of Barcea[/h3][/i]
Towards the center of the nation of Barcea, just a little east of the actual center point and out of reach of the current aggression that was to come, stood the Capitol of Barcea. It was set upon a rise so that it could look down all around it, both a precautionary and defensive measure. The circular wall that surrounded the entire of the Capitol, though old, was a well-maintained and clean white. The battlements above had both constant patrols and stationary guards, men and women who wore shining silver armor with the blue of Barcea. Their gaze was always outward, vigilant in the peace.

Within the walls, the Capitol bustled with life. Charming buildings lined the paved streets, houses and stores and everything else existing side-by-side. People filled those streets, going about their business. They bought and sold wares, they cleaned, they ate, and they lived. Perhaps they were a little livelier than they usually were, but today was an exciting day for the average Barcean citizen. Today was a day that the Queen herself would walk the streets to see her people.

In a few hours they would gather to line along the streets to wait excitedly for a chance to glimpse their beloved Queen, their symbol of peace. Until then they would prepare for the Queen in their free time, chattering excitedly away. It didn't matter to them that these visits happened fairly often, at least once every two weeks. They still loved them as much as they loved her.

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[i][h3]Gurata, Northern Regions[/h3][/i]
Meanwhile, far to the north in the land of Gurata, along that invisible line in the land that separated the chilly form the truly cold a group of riders moved quickly through the tundra. Most of them rode horses, though they were wild and barely controlled animals, no different from the people upon them. They were a pale group, wrapped tightly in the furs they wore of animals long dead. Their hair and eyes were dark, and many had scars all over them. To those who lived in Gurata, or even knew about a decent amount of the nation, these were clearly men and women from the tribe to the north. They were not often seen this far from the true ice and snow, save for the gathering of supplies and the need for larger hunts.

Though wild, they followed their leader without hesitation. Riding a massive white leopard, their leader pushed them relentlessly. There was no slowing or rest. Though animals would flee in front of them, they would run them down and bring them down. Only then would those to the farthest back drop away from the group to finish the suffering of the animal, and then travel back north with the fresh food. Their leader would not look back to them, keeping her gaze forwards as her group slowly but surely dwindled, and the hunt slowly but surely became much more dangerous.

Only the best riders could even think of earning the honor of being with Seryosa on the hunt. She was a decently tall woman, but it was clear that she was very, very strong. She wore old grey armor that had clearly seen much battle, her dark grey hair streaming behind her from beneath her helmet as she led the hunt. She held her maul in one hand and the reins in the other, and it was often she who struck the first blow with her weapon whenever they came upon a herd of deer.

The ground pounded with each step their mounts took and with the flight of their prey before them, loose rocks trembling along the ground, where rocky shards began to meet at least somewhat grassy lands. Their shouts and calls filled the air, though their leader almost always remained silent. They were a wild mass of hunters, their goal to bring back enough food for those who remained behind.

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