There is a dark palace in the lands of sand with but a few blades of grass.

Land desolate, filled with skeletons of the dead take account of both the bodies of werewolves, demons and humans.

The wind seemed to be the only live thing here as the winds blow free with a breeze optimum to anyone daring to cross this frightful land. 

The sun high in the sky as it shone it's light high above the sky cutting palace, who could erect this? It was but a sole entity.

--

The palace was a high one with feetless designs and measure. The ceiliengs were so high they could home collossal giants of any kind more than a 100 feet high with even a other set of floors going on to make it's own 100 feet high achievement.

This gasconading palace was home to one and no one else knew of this being owning a palace covering millions of acres. He was a ghost in time and certainly untouched that's for sure.

A skeleton of 20 feet in height and made of who knows what.. all that can be said is his bones were darker than any good of any kind. Unsold to any one, a cloth which could never be cut from. The skeleton and his large frame just taken seat upon a throne of great majesty with intricate design and artistic.

The entire palace held this sold being who seemed so stiff.. stiff as a real undead. He sat upon his throne idly and rubbed at his chin. There was a feeling about him.. something unreal. Even in his own home he felt out of place. In space he would feel out of place as he's been there before.

No place was fit for this being.

"Being closed in my room for millions of years, has become the best thing to ever happen for me." Spoke the skeleton. He merely unclenched his teeth and the words were uttered, only to close them again when he finished.

He has been shut off from society arbitrarily after the deaths of two of his favorite companions. Sinking quickly only held by a thread he shut him self off from the world after destroying everything within miles and kilometers of his palace. 

The truth is that desolate field wasn't but dust and bone. Nothing else besides their weapons which he decided to maintain as a records of sorts for the years gone. His powers were beyond anything. So with a mere thought the image of his art gallery outside has been maintained for millions of years as if time had stopped.

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He payed it a glance when he neared his room window. 

Deciding against keeping Graves for his two companions he Instead held two life like statuets of women in his room. Their bodies cleaned up and time frozen while they stood.

In his earlier years when it first happened he destroyed the entire island he was on when the words of his dying companions stopped his further destruction of the world all together.

That brings us to the reason why he stood today.

He was aware the island he was on was drifting to a shore. So far it was closing in on a rather large island and he was aware of what he should do but didn't want to do it. 

"The most I will do is shrink a few feet. That will be it.. I don't like humans all that well anyway." The skeleton said.

Minutes later he had shrunk down after thinking for a while and addressing his account while outside. He would use but one of his powers. Choosing not to disclose everything he was capable of. 

Not that being a skeleton darkest of any black wasn't enough.

He pushed open the doors to his palace and hopped down the steps childishly. His skeletal feet landed in the sand and he wiggled his toes as he stopped to look around at his surroundings. The dust was black like his bones so he more than blended in while the only oddities were the skeletons and armory content within the sand that stuck out of it. 

He looked for a bit then made his way over the dunes of dust and past the countless skeletons and toward the human city.

He'll arrive shortly.

--

"Hey melia, I was wondering maybe we could go check out that dungeon that washed up a few hours ago? I won't nor will I wait for officials to contain it." Said a blonde haired male with a few daggers on his belt.

He spoke to a night blue hair colored woman with grey eyes and light clothing of silver with a hood. Her belt had a short stick, a common magic tool among society here. Here however stood out as it was ranging from classes A-Z the best being the latter here were among the elite within the 12 letter of the alphabet.

The first ten were common, the next were elite, the last were extrodanairy hosting unbeatable powers incomparable to the rest able to shake the very world it self and bend the fabric of space and time.

The first of the last four would be mystic and the last was spacious.

The lady called melia turned around to confront the man she saw with a coy smile.

"I thought I'd have to drag you out of your stump of a home with me." She said as she walked passed him to the door of the church. She exited before turning her sight on him. "Let's go! Come on they really will shut that place down and I'm sure arorg heard you ask me big mouth!" She said urgently.

The blonde haired big mouth seemed to have eaten something sour what his facial expression disclosed. He then shouted "look whose talking!" And she smiled while chocking back laughter.

He gave close chase as he followed his companion through the crowded streets of the city, which was name berlon Gate.