A figure could be seen pushing against a harsh snowstorm, his silhouette fighting the snowfall for a presence.

Within its constant blowing winds, powerful enough to blow a person over and deafen those within, its panicked voice could be vaguely heard:

‘’We must hurry! Is there anything ahead? There isn’t much time left!”

There was no response.

The man who shouted, clearly shaken by the unanswered shout, stopped and looked back.

‘’Sebastian!” He shouted, this time directed behind him, observing the flowing white canvas.

He stood there, waiting for a response, each second feeling like an eternity.

He knew that without his companion, he would likely never make it to their destination alive…

Just as his heart dropped to his stomach, a muffled shout resounded beyond the veil.

‘’-dan!”

Sebastian was still with him.

‘’Here! Come to my voice!”

There was no response.

Knowing that his voice would also be suppressed by the violent winds of this unforgiving hellscape and likely carried elsewhere, drawing his only hope of finding salvation away, the man fumbled with his belt, cracking the ice that formed between his sword’s cross guard and sheath, drawing the blade that rested on his hip.

‘’Don’t make me regret this…” he said as his grip tightened.

A moment later, the blade ignited, flames billowing up the reflective metal.

As if drawn to the fire, a silhouette emerged from the veil, drawing his attention.

‘’Put that out you moron! You will kill us both!” Sebastian shouted.

Immediately, the sword’s flames dispersed, leaving behind wisps of heat on its blade, that were carried off by the wind.

‘’You weren’t behind me! I thought you got lost! Are we close? There isn’t much time.”

Sebastian, now more visible as the distance closed between them, and stopped just next to him.

‘’Jordan. If you ignite that damned blade again I will leave you behind, find the ruins, and make the journey back myself! Now let’s go before something decides to investigate the only visible light source in a hundred miles!”

He sighed.

‘’Yes, there isn’t much time,” he said, looking up to the grey sky, past the falling white, and at the moon, which lay just above the horizon. ‘’the moon is almost down. Don’t worry, we are close and will make it.”

Sebastian continued walking, his feet sinking into the soft recently felled snow, hitting the iced compact that lay underneath.

Jordan followed, mirroring his footsteps to conserve energy for the remainder of the journey.

Both men walked on, their silhouettes losing shape within the white of their surroundings.

«Asterion»

Sitting at his usual seat, Asterion sat patiently waiting for the school day to end by looking outside and thinking of how he is going to find shelter later.

He was usually pretty hungry at this point in the day, so this had become a routine habit of his to take his mind off of food, however today was special. It was the beginning of winter, and winter’s snow was starting.

‘’-and what is it called Asterion?” A feminine voice resounded from the front of the room.

Startled, Asterion stopped looking out of the window at the snowflakes that dissolved on the glass.

‘’I’m sorry?”

‘’What is a beast called when it is a subject of another beast, typically a much stronger one?”

He shifted in his seat, amused.

‘’A failure of the Defense Corps if I ever see one.” He said with a chuckle.

The class erupted in laughter, dying when Mrs. Press gave a cold glare around the room, before returning her eyes to Asterion.

‘’Very funny Asterion, however the answer is a minion.”

The class continued, and Mrs. Press avoided calling on the class clown for the rest of its duration. It wasn’t long before the bell rang, signaling everyone that the class had ended and the school day was over.

It took less than a minute for every student to have their items packed and head towards the door.

Watching as the second to last student left the classroom, Asterion, as usual, was the last to leave, having been in no hurry to be elsewhere.

There was nowhere else for him to go, after all.

Passing Mrs. Press’s desk on his way out, she glanced up from her papers and spoke, pausing his walk to freedom.

‘’Asterion, will you be okay? I know your… situation, and winter is starting. It’s going to become a frozen wasteland out there soon enough. With school ending, are you able to get by?”

Asterions mood grew grim, his thoughts muddied a little darker, but maintained a pleasant outward demeanor. 

‘’Yes, I will be fine. It’s not my first winter…” he said shortly.

He knew well what winter meant. Here in the Grand Citadel Hope, winter was at its coldest similar to a tad worse than the old world’s winters… it would be unpleasant, but with enough willpower and resiliance, he would be just fine.

She gave him a hesitant nod, and he walked out of the school.

Stepping outside, the wind slapped him in the face with a biting chill. Snowflakes fell, leaving a speckled litter on the floor. It was everywhere, but not too abundant.

Watching the last of the students disperse into the streets from the steps of the school left Asterion in a somber mood.

He never really liked talking to people, leaving him friendless. He knew people’s names, and was aquainted with some, sure, but never grew too close to them. 

Typically when people found out that he was an orphan, they avoided him anyways.

He knew exactly why.

‘What great future would an orphan have in Eden?’ He thought, musing himself. 

In truth, there wasn’t much for him to accomplish in life. 

His classmates post general education would move on to higher education and into important, or at least into decent paid work…

While he would undoubtably become a servant in some factory, producing some hazardous material just to earn enough to eat. 

He had parents once... The work his mother did to keep them barely hanging on vanished with her when she passed, leaving him desolate.

It didn’t help that he used all of her death benefits to give her a proper memorial…

‘It’s only going to get worse…’ he thought darkly.

There wasn’t quite anywhere for him to go. He was by all meaning of the definition homeless and hopeless. Sure, the government was interested in helping him succeed as a ward of the state so he may become a productive member of society, but even now, nearly three hundred years after humanity was threatened with extinction, the resources available were scarce still, and they would only grow scarcer with winter’s effect.

Thinking about the next 8 months only fostered dread within Asterion.

There would be ups and downs, as all days did for a ward of the state, or anyone really… but during winter there’s usually more downs…

Food shortages usually meant that people like him, those without the backing of family, didn’t eat. Those that prefer to sleep on the streets through the warmer seasons would move inside the free shelters, overcrowding them… which meant what little resources the government could spare would be used up quicker.

In short, it sucked. It always did.

Walking down the steps and into the bustling street of the southern quadrant, Asterion began his daily routine.

‘’Food. Then shelter.” He muttered.

Moving between streets and alleyways, past the towering heights constructed in recent years to combat the growth of humanity in its new home, he eventually found himself in the outskirts of the southern quadrent’s marketplace district.

A large stone bricked road blocked his path with the flowing of people in both directions as they went about their days, separating Asterion from the huge cuircuitwork of different shops that made up the marketplace. 

The marketplace itself, which resounded like a cocophany of noises all blurring into one indescribable shout sat like an empire, comprised of both makeshift and permanent structures, the permanent structures clearly having been run by more successful businesses. 

It was impressive. It always was.

It was even more magnanimous if one gazed upwards, toward the towering walls that surrounded the inner districts.

Asterion moved his eyes upward.

The wall, which was made of the very same brick of the road, except much larger cuts, must have been the work of giants. Each stone block was carved to be identacle cuts of massive slabs, each easily weighing dozens of tons and stacked nearly one hundred stories high.

It was meant to protect the most precious commodity. 

Humans.

‘Well. Now at least…’ Asterion smiled.

Asterion was a historian at heart. He may not be the smartest person around, but he did enjoy reading up on history and myths.

One such myth pertaining to the fortress’s creation was that there used to be a civilization that built the fortress, living inside the walls in what is now the Inner Districts, and they built the walls to protect themselves from the land that was once a Death Zone. 

Of course, there wasn’t much left behind by this civilization… their disappearance was long before mankind arrived to this realm. The largest piece to evidence their existence being the great citadel, the last bastion for the remains of humanity, nicknamed ‘Hope’. All that lay beyond the supermassive walls of Hope in this land called ‘Eden’ are remnants.

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‘The walls must have worked… considering every structure outside of it are ruins. But then where did the people go? And where did they get this amount of stone?’ 

Pulling himself from that thought, looking back toward the street, and stepping onto the bricks, he crossed slowly, making sure to avoid people’s path.

Once on the other side, the market was even denser than it appeared.

While the outer shops weren’t very popular, considering they were nearly all makeshift stores, many of them sold the mass produced food imported from the farmlands to those too poor to afford the finer luxuries of the inner market. 

Asterion walked the stone floor of the marketplace, this one resembling a polished tile. It was impressive, even after countless years, the stonework was just as pristine as if it laid yesterday. 

‘Hm.’ He thought, wandering further in.

The stone was clearly not the kind that formed naturally in the environment, it was a tad too light to match the darker variant nearby.

Coupled with the fact that the stonework that made up the Citadel of Hope was incredibly durable. So durable, in fact, that it had lasted —presumably—thousands of years without earning a scratch anywhere on its walls. 

‘Which brings another question… how did they cut the indestructible stone into bricks… and haul the mountain of stone required to build the inner fortress and its walls?’

He stopped walking, glancing to his left at a stall selling various vegetables.

‘Where even is the quarry?’

A parade of noise rose up nearby.

Asterion had read up on the Citadel of Hope, and its many theories on how it came to be. There was also the stuff taught to everybody in school… but they never could explain where the stone had come from.

‘’Another question lost to time… I supp—.”

Just as he finished muttering his sentence, he found himself unceremoniously knocked down to the ground.

‘’Argh!” He groaned, reeling and clutching his stomach. 

He landed quite unfortunately, and did not react quick enough to break the fall with his hands.

Another parade of noise rose up around him before dying.

The air that was once in his lungs was now well outside his body and they did not want to accept more…

So… he struggled internally for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

It did not help that the only thing to fall on was the hardest floor litterally anywhere.

After a few embarrassing moments of heaving, Asterion finally did, and looked up, meeting the eye of his offender.

A man wearing metal plated armor, with a red cloth draped across his waist and running up his shoulder, wearing a plain long sword on his hip, smirked at Asterion.

‘’What are you, deaf? You move for the guard, or you get moved, punk.” The man said.

He laughed, continued his stroll past, and through the crowd, leaving Asterion on the bare stone.

Gritting his teeth, Asterion slowly rose back up, embarrassed and in silent agony, finally noticing the crowd that gathered.

‘’What?!” He shouted.

A moment later, those that stood and watched continued on their days, and the usual clammer of the marketplace resumed, marking the encounter as just another event in the market for everybody else.

But for him, it was a painful one.

Walking with a slight favor to his side, Asterion moved a little slower now.

It wasn’t long before he stood in front of a run down wooden building with broken windows. A flurry of wind lifted the light snowfall that carpeted the edges of the footpath, kicking it up and shading the entrance.

It was the place he worked at.

Well… he didn’t exactly work there. They did not really pay him money.

It was an establishment that offered food for work.

There were many such places that existed within the marketplace, as it was a lucrative way to save money. A place that has an abundance of food would offer those too poor to afford food a way to fill their bellies.

It did not solve the cause of the issue… but it could put the symptoms at ease for short periods of respite.

So a bar was where he would go to work for food.

It was more difficult than he imagined it would be at first, Asterion had to learn quick to work hard for what he wanted, after all. Harder than most of his peers. But working with the very thing you crave within your grasp, and giving it away continuously for hours forms a resilient willpower most don’t have.

To work around food while starving, carrying some dish to a table, all the while smelling its aroma… talking about food, even watching the patrons throw away their extras…

It was a torturous experience.

Not to mention the pain in his heart he would feel as he would watch those who gave into the craving end up roughed up by the owners of the establishment and banned by every connected establishment who offered food for work.

And connected they were.

But eventually, he grew used to the feeling. Even somewhat growing into it. He would try and embrace it, tell himself that it would make him stronger in the long run. Build character…

But how much character could one build till they were so far gone from themselves, they become unrecognizable?

So, on the days he was feeling particularly weak… he would just go without food for that night.

It was better to starve than be permanently banned from working for food…

Pushing open the wooden door, the aroma of different meals already served assaulted Asterion’s nose. The scent was a bitter reminder of his end goal.

‘This is going to be a long day…’

Around the tavern, patrons crowded the space. It was already starting to turn dark, with hues of yellow and orange painting the southern district. Thus, the dinner rush was in full effect.

‘’Hey Astie! Back for more work? You’re lucky, we have one more spot open for tonight.” The bartender, who owned the place, said from the other side of the room. She then made a complicated gesture motioning for him to head toward the kitchen as she tended to a few people asking for drinks.

Heading to the kitchen to wash his hands and figure out his section, the fragrance of recently finished dishes were even more intense. He would have to walk in here tonight often…

Asterion sighed.

It was going to be a long day indeed.

A couple hours later, long after the alluring symptoms of hunger got old, Asterion was handling a table of three older men among others. This particular table was quite loud and disrupting.

Walking past, he could not help but overhear.

‘’—dition leaves tomorrow. Apparently initial reports were wrong.”

‘’That’s not possible. They must be delusional.” One man exasperated, a bit loud.

The third chimed in, smiling: ‘’Yeah. Your right, delusional. Two actual Starlit, scouts no less. Absolutely delusonal!” 

The third man laughed even harder, sarcasm oozing out of him, gathering the annoyed glances of a few other patrons.

Moving toward the bar to pick up another beer, the bartender gave the table a glance.

‘’Asterion. Settle them down. They’re getting disruptive.”

Asterion looked to the table, paused, then turned back. ‘’Yes ma’am…” 

It was very hard to refuse the person feeding you when your hungry.

But it was also hard to tell three men to not be obnoxious when they each have a sword resting against their seats.

Steeling himself, Asterion walked up to the table, approaching their conversation once more. The first man was in the middle of his sentence.

‘’—dience with the royal family. I have a friend that works inside the castle itself, and…” The man’s voice faded once he noticed his arrival, eyeing Asterion suspiciously.

‘’What do you want?” He said gruffly.

Asterion smiled politely. He was ready to tell the three to not be obnoxious as politely as possible, or less than that if needed… 

but…

Asterion opened his mouth, moved his eyes to their swords… and then hesitated, standing there like a moron.

Looking at the three men’s belongings closer, Asterion’s blood iced.

Their swords, which lay rested against the sides of their seats looked like any mundane sword sold in a marketplace from a distance. Anyone with a pulse and some money could obtain one. Their clothing did not have any special marking either.

However… upon closer inspection, Asterion saw the very distinct sigil of a Wind Rose Compass on the hilt of the blades.

‘… these men are Pathfinders.’

He stood there, mouth open… looking at the first man, who wore a full beard, in the eyes.

The man, who clearly did not appreciate being interrupted and blatantly stared at, turned predatory.

‘’What, boy?” He said, angrier.

Asterion did not know a lot about life outside of Hope. Humanity had clung on to life within its protective walls… and therefore he was most knowledgeable about the ongoing events about it  since it was taught in every basic education.

He even knew a bit about humanity before the great exodus from Earth since he was interested in the subject.

It was dangerous to venture beyond the outer wall. No human would ever consider venturing past the safety it provided. And those that do, don’t return.

And so, very little information from the outside makes it back into Hope.

But he did know about the Pathfinders.