Atlas stared out at the grasslands in a daze, his back slumped against the gnarled trunk of a great oak. Blood dripped from a cut that ran from his brow, past his eye, and down to his chin. A gift from his father, during his most recent drunken rage.

As a cool gust rustled the long green strands, the young boy blew out a shuddering breath, inwardly cursing his own stupidity. He should have known to check the den before trying to sneak into the cupboards, no matter how unlikely his father was to have been in there.

'Well... At least the beating was worth it,' Atlas thought, fingering the stale loaf he had hidden beneath his tunic.

A low rumble reverberated from his stomach, but he ignored it. No matter how hungry he became, he couldn't eat the loaf. At least, not until his sister had had her share, at which point he would happily devour the remaining bits.

Grinning at the thought, Atlas pushed himself to his feet, and wiped away the tears beneath his eyes. The last thing he wanted was his sister to see him crying. He had to be strong, strong enough to protect her.

Once finished, Atlas turned to head back down the hill, which overlooked his house. It stood on the outskirts of their village, with a thatch roof, and a single candle lit window. The front door hung crooked, creaking in the wind, while rotten wood made up their front porch, which sat cluttered with empty mugs, and a rickety chair.

'Father should have passed out by now,' Atlas thought, glancing up at the moonlit sky. A wispy canopy of clouds drifted overhead, their silky tendrils reaching out to him. He sometimes wished he could be a cloud, drifting endlessly in the vast sky.

Atlas shook his head to be rid of the thought, and reminded himself of his sister. Descending the hill, he threw a curious glance at the village, which had settled into its nightly silence. It rested beside a range of mountains, separated from the rest of the world, though apparently it belonged to the Kilmourn Empire.

He had heard his father talk of it late at night, while swearing about the taxes, which he called hefty, and unjust. It seemed that although he had enough money for beer and mead, the rest of his money went there, and that was the reason behind the poor condition of their house, and lack of food or decent clothes.

Still, despite all that, Atlas still made the trek through the long grass, and climbed the steps to the front door. Doing his best to be quiet, he pushed against the ancient wood, and slipped inside, pausing a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimness.

When they had, he spotted his father slumped in the den, snoring in his dreamless stupor. A broken mug hung from his limp hand, the edge of which was coated crimson. A burning rage filled Atlas, and his eyes flickered with a dark, murderous glint, but only briefly.

Then, he moved on, creeping down the hall until he reached his and his sisters room, near the back of the house. As he opened the door, he glanced down, peeking through a crack on their floor. He could see the damp dirt beneath it, accompanied by a musty aroma.

Scowling, he stepped over it, and entered their room, where he found his sister sitting on her bed, and staring out the window with wide brown eyes. Her raven locks hung loosely around her narrow face, which was pale beneath the silver light.

"Sylf? Why are you still awake? You should be sleeping!" Atlas scolded, hurrying across the room to close the window.

The young girl just giggled, and pointed out the window.

"Look, Atlas! The stars are flying!"

"Don't be silly. Stars can't fly…" Atlas said, though he trailed off as he reached the windowsill. Outside, an array of brilliant dots streamed across the sky, leaving behind trails of light. "Gods above. What's going on?"

"See? I told you!" Sylf said, grinning from ear to ear. "They are flying! Like birds!"

Atlas frowned, and leaned forward. The dots were getting brighter, to the point that it was difficult for him to look at them. He tried turning away, but there was something about them, something that drew him in, and made it impossible to look anywhere else.

The longer he watched, the more his heart raced, beating wildly against his chest. Something was wrong, very wrong. The stars, if that's what they really were, seemed to be coming straight at them. Hurtling through the air, faster than a whistling arrow.

Then, the first landed, crashing down in the nearby mountains. An eruption of light and stone shook the world, blinding Atlas as he watched in horror. A second passed, then two, then three. Finally, on the fourth second, a thunderous boom spread from the mountain, and a shockwave shook the ground.

Atlas snapped back to his senses, and rubbed his eyes. When he glanced back outside, he found the remaining stars careening towards them. Without a moment's hesitation longer, he grabbed Sylf, and threw her into a corner.

Her eyes widened as he lifted his bed, and placed it on top of her, hoping against hope that the thin straw would protect her. As he wedged it deeper into the corner, he heard the second star land, followed by a shockwave that nearly knocked him off his feet.

He fought to keep his balance, his focus set on grabbing the second bed. Alas, before he could move it, the third and fourth stars crashed down, the force of which tore the roof from their house, revealing the burning world outside.

The sight left Atlas frozen, and his ears rung from the explosion. A flicker of movement to his left caught his attention, and when he turned to look, he found his father running away, sprinting almost, as he raced to get away.

The pathetic sight was the last thing the young boy saw, before something slammed into the back of his head. Stumbling forward, Atlas reached back, and tentatively ran his fingers through his hair. When he brought them back, he found them to be covered in blood.

"That's not good…" Atlas said, swaying. Then, with his vision becoming blurry, he fell back, crashing to the ground. A cold numbness crept over his body, colder than anything he had ever felt. Mustering the last bit of his strength, he turned to find Sylf, tears streaking down her face.

"Stay safe…" he said, then, all went black.