"-Let the sun rise upon the world, and the moon set upon the void, and with it settle the pain inside us all, so peace can remain for all of eternity. As time withers the peace, everything shall eventually perish, though the sky remains, like pain that never sleeps. Come, kind shadow; Awaken, thine light"

-Galem and Gaia's Prelude

Making its way through the Beggar's Road, a horse and cart scraped and bumped through its path, to the annoyance of its single passenger. Though the trail is not the least welcoming nor comfortable, it cannot compare in any manner to the city that it led to: the city that sat at the centre of the world; the city that spelt power and prosperity to all who remain there; the city that is home to the spectacular Guild; the city called Alandriel.

"So, kind-sir," the coachman yelled to the back, his voice giddy and broken from the bumps and stones of the track, "What brings ye- here to our fine city?"

"To visit a friend, " the passenger responded curtly, "He always said that when I was older I should come visit him up in Alandriel, and now I have more than a better excuse to do so!"

"What kind of friends do you have, young-master, for that 'friend' paying a noble's fee to rent a 'cart?"

"To be fair, I don't know him much at all," the passenger quieted down, "All he was, was just a good friend to my old father," he further added.

Drifting from the subject, the coachmen asked, "So kid, there has to be another reason for visiting Alandriel, like the cliché's; money, riches or even employment?"

"I suppose there is one other." the passenger commented, with a brief silence following.

"The-"

"The Guild", the coachman replied sleepily, "It's always the same with you young people, always running off and out of the countryside abodes and into the big unknown, always blinded by their dreams of the city and always ending up in that damned Guild."

"..."

"It don't matter no more, we're approaching Alandriel," the coachman sighed, "And also: prepare yourself. After all you're from the country outskirts and it's likely you've never even seen a city, let alone one like this..."

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So, it came upon the carriage, a city as tall as the hills that looked over the great forest of Gearmön, where the fraeru settled nearby. A stone fortress, immovable by any natural means, and inside of its walls, towering over the land like an army of giants, an array of homes and a single hall that sat at the city's summit. And around it, rolling fields of yellow and lime hues, littered with small settlements and villages, with farmers toiling and keeping their lands. Further to the west lay the SIlversnow Mountains and Pegasus Peak, a lone mountain sticking up out of the range, an age-old protector of Elase's ruined kingdoms. And, inside these mounds, the Lyrims are found peacefully enjoying their simple, drunken lives, even if they'll only live them for a week or so. Or so that was what the stories of central Alium portrayed it as; in reality it was dull, gloomy and rotten with the corruption, envy and greed of man, alongside the obvious presence of the Elven Plague that has spread throughout the entire world. The endless songs of the white church echo as the carriage ploughed past them, accompanied by piles of bodies, contorted and fused to an extent where they could hardly be called corpses anymore, but rather a mess of greens and greys of reds and blacks. Eventually, the carriage waded towards the city gates, where a guard began approaching it slowly, adorning a strange beaked mask.

"What business do you have in fine Alandriel, coachman?" the guard spoke, in a heavily accented and muffled voice.

"Nothing much, kind-sir, just an escort for my kind passenger here."

"And who may that passenger's name be and what about your coach specifications? You must know the regulations coachman, after all this shouldn't be your first visit after the plague hit?"

"Fine. Coach identification is Nickel Charlie, with horses hailing from an Ether rated establishment, and passengers including a single individual with medium-heavy luggage."

"As I said initially, may I please receive the name of this passenger and home town?"

"For that, I do not know kind-sir, for only the passenger himself knows that. This is a noble's carriage and therefore confidentiality is both important and enforced."

"May I ask you to step out of the vehicle and state your name and hometown, passenger of this carriage?" the guardsman called out to the back compartment. And from it emerged a thin young man with a determined complexion and curly locks of a luxurious blond hue: "The name is Daniel, guardsman. Daniel Raigeki, and hailing from the settlement of Saint Evans, a small farming village nearby the Lake of Eyes."

"We've been expecting you, Mr. Raigeki. Coachman, your passenger will now depart from the vehicle and you can continue with your day, for he is coming with us now," the guardsman stepped back and ordered the coachmen, "Mr Raigeki will accompany us to the estate where he will take occupation."

Daniel stepped out of the carriage, where he was quickly and forcibly adorned with a similar beaked mask that he now realised was filled to the very tip of his nose with simple and assorted herbs and the coachman bid farewell and hurried off on his way back through the Beggar's Road. With a call to the men manning the top of the gate and a mighty heave back from them, the heavy wooden gates eased open, finally revealing the real city of Alandriel.