"It should not matter even if a thousand years should pass by, the heart will never forget the ones you once called friends."
~Tasmiya Shaik
OUTSKIRTS OF DURENHAL PORT
THE JIÚER HIGHLANDS
800km Outside The Eastern Wall
Friday
22:12
The spring breeze was as unruly as the fateful night of Athelstan's betrayal seven hundred cycles ago. The night sky painted with the cosmos shades was devoid of stars to illuminate the lands with heaven's light. Their only divine guide was the sphere of silver light that emerged from the dark molasses of the clouds, another spectator of heaven. The grass blades that spanned the entire highlands, on hills, and flat ground, danced to the tunes of the breeze. In the distance, stood a might stone wall that surrounded the port city of Durenhal. Flags dyed in blue that bore the crown insignia of his Royal majesty wavered at every crenellation they were positioned on.
