Overlooking the highest peak beneath uneven land, both tall and short, fixated with stones forged of condensed Mana that stood like mountains, carving valleys that stretched for miles. A young boy stood locked in the lotus position. By his side stood two strange manners of humonoids. Their skin was a pale eerie grey, with tone physiques, while their eyes burned an inhuman amethyst.
"Master," Jörm called the vigilance in his eyes never fading. "It's time."
The Master grinned. "One year…" He said, carrying a devilish charm unbefitting of his age. He graciously stood to his feet, opening his eyes that eternally glowed within the darkness. Altair turned to Kirr and Jörm, his Eye of Sacrilege dimming the world around him. "It's been a while since I saw the moon."
Kirr nodded, his handsome expression untouched by the scars of his past life lit up. "We can finally leave this place."
Jörm rolled his eyes. "It's just snow outside. Nothing special."
