East, White Dew City.
The sun is just right, and the breeze is not drying.
A young maid pushes an elderly man in a wheelchair, leisurely walking in the courtyard of the White Dew Fortress, enjoying the afternoon sun.
When the guards in the castle saw the old man, they all respectfully bowed and greeted him:
"Mr. Oberth!"
Oberth St. Prowse, once, was an illustrious name.
But even the most powerful knights and illustrious nobles cannot withstand the ravages of time.
Now Oberth is old, and there are no familiar faces left in the White Dew Fortress, and even the East is completely different than in his memory.
If he were ten years younger, if he could stand up again, Oberth would never watch St. Prowse Family decline as it has now.
The wheelchair traverses a long corridor and arrives at a courtyard.
A chubby little boy is holding a short wooden sword and practicing with a knight.
