The cold, pale streaks of the morning light broke through the iron bars of Nero's prison cell. Outside, the sky was covered in clouds as far as they could see, casting a grey shadow over the world. Scattered rains had kept the atmosphere damp and humid, and the lack of direct sunshine kept the winter chill from receding.
It was already late March, which meant spring should have come by now, but the weather had been a mess these days. Nero heard some of the guards talking. They thought it was because of all the Sages who had been fighting recently - that had messed with the weather in all six countries. Others, apparently, blamed the silver moon and the ruins. There were also the religious fanatics who thought that an old Deity had awoken, and was beginning to exert its power on the world once more.
