Night crept over the ravaged city as Jason helped shepherd the last caravan of refugees to safer northern regions. Most had fled already from this dying land lost to feral mayhem. Though his spirit felt weary unto death after months battling relentless evil tides, Jason resolved to stand fast. If hope endured yet in one heart, light lived on. He would kindle that fragile spark until reinforced.
Weeks passed alone scavenging the abandoned ruins avoided by violent remnants haunting urban pockets. But Jason felt death's shadow drawing close behind each day, and supplies dwindled rapidly. Weary and starved, he contemplated simply laying down sword to join civilization's phantoms in oblivion. But in darkest moments, whispers within rekindled will to continue. To endure was itself triumph when all light receded. If he could sustain hope's memory, its dayspring must come.
