Bastopher's expensive caravan of the latest model rumbled through the grand entrance of the Fifth Wing's bastion in its capital town, Sperton.
Sperton was a town of art, crafts and music. The bastion was a true testament to this, as its gates sparkled with the decorations of verdant green, bright gold and gleaming white. They slowly parted, allowing them in.
Bastopher ran his hand through his hair and sighed, nonchalantly admiring the beauty of the Fifth Wing bastion.
The bastion rose majestically, its architecture was a harmonious blend of nature and fortification. The spires were towering and covered with ivy, they intertwined with elegant, white marble battlements, while green filigree bedecked the walls.
The air was fresh here, tinged with an earthy scent and alive with the colors of art and life — a homage to the bastion's commitment to their Celestial, Atomos, God of Weather.
