It began with the still canvas of bleakness and emptiness, the Kenoma, and the blossom of the Pleroma where all things emerged from paradox, existence inspired in a void from nothing. Where infinity ignited from zero, where all things fade. 

Where once in this bleak nothingness, KHAOS was the only being in this plane of being, though it would be more accurate to say that he is nothing at all. A hole which spans on towards eternity. He despises those who exist, he who desires the simplicity of silence and the sleep of eons without a stir within his domain.

Yet despite this, time inspires change no matter how concrete the variables in the world, even when nothing is to act as a zero to one's infinity. In a rare moment of subconscious discomfort, KHAOS accidentally spurred and in so, conceived of a thought which materialized into the Godhead known as AO. The Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and what will be the end, from whom would become the architect of all things conceivable. KHAOS realizes his folly and tries to kill this being in its infancy, but the creature drifts away from it's attempts upon his life.

Seeking to escape the torments of KHAOS, AO would tether his being into his own dreams of another place of being, which paved way for the Pleroma to flourish and with it, the world of Gaia.

But AO's dream-state is a dangerous being, for the world to retain its rules and structure, the Godhead must slumber as KHAOS once did, for in his shared dream, all exists under his advocacy. If AO were to awaken, the dream would end, and everything would fade from memory, consumed by the Kenoma.

Nevertheless, in place of AO's consciousness, he created the position of AVO, who would serve as chancellor of the heavens and virtue, to represent and lead the divine celestial agents such as myself. To create and to prosper, to fortify and to multiply. Within the Pleroma sits the Ogdoad ... a council of Aeons, who represent the virtues that galvanize further prosper of the Pleroma against the Kenoma, the canvas of far-reaching non-existence where KHAOS reigns.

But much as AO created AVO ... KHAOS spawned AYIN, the accursed champion of the Kenoma, to debase and to destroy, to return creation to its nulled and motionless state where the awareness of the living soul is returned to slumber and its contents removed of all memory.

This is the true battle, the war for which those of celestial ascension must fight. For if AYIN and that of KHAOS wins this conflict, neither the living of the earth nor the dead who reside within heaven or hell shall escape the trappings of non-existence. All will end with nothing, naught but meek whimpers drowned out in suffocating dread. Such events, as heralded by the forces of the Kenoma are monikered; "The Grand Inevitability." For one day, AO, AVO and all who shelter under him, will falter in their ability to maintain existence and return to the void.

The First Kingdom was formed under the banner and marriage of men, elves and the Ogdoad, under allegiance and of desire for the world to remain would oust AYIN for the first time, to the detriment of many. From the shadows of the mind and the dark places of the unexplored came forth creatures of nightmares and unreasonable terror. With the combined efforts of the Ogdoad and mortal-kind, magic, machine and sacrifices of the brave, the fearful and the doomed, the Grand Inevitability was delayed upon the deaths of billions, and the sundering of the heavens. A ritual performed in secret that demanded a price in return.

A great flood washed the world, drowning the lands of its denizens, malevolent and the innocent, cleansing the canvas of Gaia and reducing civilization to ruin and cohesion between mortal-kind and that of their gods with it.

The survivors who would crawl from their mountaintops, their shelters, the flotsam they clung to as life itself would scatter and search for new and fertile lands, finding the continent of Balandaria and to continue with life during a time when all had seemed to abandon them.

But there yet remains hope in them, for against the wishes of the Ogdoad, the aeon Pistis Sophia returned to Gaia to provide comfort to the surviving souls. A prophecy scribed in the tears of Sophia and upon the words of the wise King Solomon before his subjects ... 

"Hear now the words of Mother Wisdom! Let all have an ear! Let them hear! A child born upon this certain day to uncertain parents will cast down the agents of the False Divinity. Four Forgotten Temples shall charge him with divine authority and power and shall suffer the scorn of the humble, from their razed earth shall bequeath the seeds to soil new faith. Ten Crowns bequeathed to him from Ten Sovereigns bowed. Nine Lands he shall inherit to house the First Kingdom reborn! The Venerated Son shall reunite with Mother and Father as the Legacy of the First Man and Woman will find lasting peace. With mortal kind in joined hands, the Grand Inevitability shall be held at bay!"

For near two thousand years, the living and the dead were given a chance to continue with their existence. ... Now, at a time when few consider the approaching end of days, for whom they see graver evil in their neighbors than the great evil lurking and crawling into the world. AYIN approaches from the inconceivable corners of life, scheming to subvert the world against itself, drawing all into discord until it's weakened state can raise no defense against her encroachment.

Today, the world of Gaia is not as it should be. Faith, freedom, and felecity are but deprived of the mortal spirit. The realms of humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes, halflings and the fey are all at risk of being plunged into turmoil by greed, desperation, despair and by lesser souls driven by evil forces beyond their ken. The faiths of the Seneschal God, AVO offer succor to those who fear what comes, for AYIN, The Anti-God and the accumulation of non-existence looms over distance to claim the fair world of Gaia, threatening upon the world a Grand Inevitability once again, that all shall end and not even the realms beyond death, neither heaven nor hell, exempted by this solemn decree.

Few now remember the vague words of prophecy from so long ago that was sown into the hearts of the corrupt who hold powers of secular and spiritual authority/ Yet hope remains in the hearts of the people who have not yet fallen into despair. For even now the Gods long forgotten by their charges, rouse in stirrings that will avalanche the annals of history.

"Tell me ... if all in this world, in everything even as the heavens above so as the hells below were doomed to end. What even is the point of our deaths, let alone our lives?" Asked the soul, reborn.

"Ah my love, my champion. Every soul has its purpose. It is the ageless wanderer that travels through many realms, seeking to witness it's reason. Sometimes as we flit through one life to roving amidst death, we happen upon a like-same traveler to share our joys and lament our partings." Sophia soothes.

"Until we know for sure ... we must reach what lies at the end of it all."

Sophia Pistis -- ??? -- ??? | A walk under endless stars and an emerging evil

My name is Sophia Pistis ... I am Wisdom and Faith. Both an anodyne of sweet succor and bitter drink. I came into this world from the Pleroma where all things emerged because of my belief in the mortal condition, in the paradox of their limitations and their capabilities. To this day, and all days hence ... I will ever remember the bravery of fragile lives as they stood against decrepit forces which threaten even an existence as elevated as mine. It is both humbling and pitiful their lot in life and it is because of this; I have gone against the decree of the Ogdoad to stay my efforts and remain in the heavens.

Many a times I have done this for better or for worse in the world and that of my peers. Perhaps it could even be considered a matter of folly for a being whose sole being encompasses the wisdom of the ages. One can only build upon wisdom through action, and through consequences intended or otherwise. To find wisdom, one must be a fool in search for it, for what is a fool but a wise man too late?

But they will learn, mortals have always shown a capacity for thoughtfulness that rivaled even my own. It would be perhaps too easy to tell them too much. For now, I conspire in my own way to save the world according to the rules we must abide so that the world may never again be sundered as it was before.

So that I might save everything.

--

A bare foot Sophia now treads amidst fields of silver grass, sprouting from bleached sanded soil mixed into muck from star reflected pools of water scattered across the landscape. Within the open sky is a crystal-like prismatic reflection of many nebulas within a canvas of night. Glowing ivory root growths emerge from the loosened ground, providing illumination along with direction to the destination she sought. The source of these growths.

A living tree of Mithril. A monument made from the silver of stars. The leaves upon the tree were as kaleidoscopic as the star-dusted skies were, but the living silver that makes up the tree provides its chromatic shrine. As Sophia places her hand upon the tree, she was revisited by old memories of creation, the thrill of life, the sadness of death and of an old friend who resides in the tree still.

"Nai elen siluva lyenna, meldo. [It has been some time, my old friend.]" Sophia speaks within the tongue of Elves to the presence who now stirs within the silver tree. The branches of the tree sway and leaves rustle without the disturbance of wind before it becomes still, absorbing the words that spoke to it.

"Ai Sophia, lye arëa ná arwenna, ná sina elen sila, ar malle na naur. Uva lúta lye carna, nair. [Oh Sophia, your presence is both gladdening yet melancholic. Not unlike the purpose you serve, I suppose.]" welcomed the ancient feminine presence within the tree. Wizened and grim as any old, rooted creature would be. "You have come for them, haven't you? I knew not the day, nor the hour ... but I knew it would come."

"It is true." Sophia says, removing her palm from the body of the tree looking over her own shoulder towards a growing cloud of murk that shrouded the stars and color it overtakes, that threatens to envelop the land she stepped into. Time was short, for Sophia seems to have been followed here and a hungering presence seems to be giving chase after her. "Events, now quickly spiral towards it's intended and inevitable center. If ever we are able to act, it must be done so now while we may yet have the ability to do so."

"Are you sure this is the only path set for us, Sophia? It is all too easy to mistake desperation for sensibility." the presence councils. "It would not be the first time your acts have caused greater misery upon the world, in the name of your penance, your absolution."

With such biting remarks, Sophia sighs and looks to the tree once more. "You have much to lose as well, more than even I. But that is the role we must play. For the sake of the world, and those of your descendants. I must intercede this way, or the world will suffer in darkness, and perhaps worse. And to this ... I must ask you to part with them so that I might sow the world in wisdom once more." She pleaded, upon her knees she descended and with her head bowed to the soft-tended grass.

"I will take on their responsibility, their safety and guide them. I ask you do not seek them out, no matter how grim their fates will play out. And I ask this of you, though I hold no right to consider it. If you would but find it to forgive me ... for what they are subjected to and what is asked of them." Sophia requested.

The tree falls silent for a time, but from the center of its body, a loud snap and crack was heard as a hole began to form itself to reveal a cradle in the form of a bird's nest, yet within the collection of grasses and herbs plucked and formed into a mattress were not eggs, but two mortal children. Human, mortal children, blanketed in satin of blue and shrouded in tender made small clothes of fibers harvested from this glistening world, radiating them in silver. Sophia rises from her knees, slowly from the ground, raising the direction of her eyes to the canopy of the mithril tree.

"Be on my head, the consequences of my gambit. And to everything that prospers. I will give onto your children. Of this, I swear." Sophia declares with a hand affixed to her breast. 

"... The entire world depends on your success, for that ne'er my words, nor yours, hold such grand sway." The presence aptly reminds the aeon. "All the same. I give you that which is most precious to me, I do this because you must succeed."

A chilling air of responsibility lingers even as the presence within the tree begins to fade. The silence of the moment is broken by the fussing and grunting of the two infants, for which Sophia approached and looked upon the human children whose hairs of raven black were beginning to grow out.

The sound of growling thunder grumbled ... shaking the land by its foundations. A look over the shoulder of the aeon would confirm it; the evil has encroached and was pursuing her. The clouds of murk now roll with crimson mixed with the cloaking darkness, absorbing the perception of depth along with it's reflection of Time was short and diminishing fast, as Sophia bound the children in the soft blankets that now embraced them in. With each child in arm

"We must away, and fast." Sophia observes aloud to herself and to her new charges for which she cradles one in each arm and embraces them to her abdomen. Turning from the tree, she sets off with the children in her embrace, her feet drifting through the sea of bleached silver reeds and star dusted sand-soaked soil. The children grumble and rouse in their disturbance and ever-changing environment, prized from their comforts from within their home, carried away from the looming and encroaching darkness overhead.

??? -- ??? -- ??? | A newborn's eyes open for the first time, in a strange world
The air felt like a cool breeze, but its chill had a rasping edge to it that bit against one's skin, but there was a form of warmth that surrounded his ability to feel. It wasn't at all like the time before when everything was silence and comfort, not what the child had before when given sanctuary within the silver tree. There was motion against his form, a change of scenery while wrapped up in a blanket. But this wasn't such a discomfort for him either. The child opens his sapphire blue eyes, and he couldn't quite comprehend what he saw -- bright flashes of stars amidst a dark blue night. Different colors splashed across the sky, nebular splotches across a canvas of vastness like paint lashed in arcs in an artist's frustrations. The lands were brushed in silver-colored sands with blades of grass protruding from the soil. A world-scape of a night-shrouded grasslands gleaming in dazzling sands yet with nary a sign of life.

The child trails his sight along the arm of his guardian wherein he perceives the face of a woman with beautiful radiance. Complimenting her face was a set of bright blue hair atop of her head and fine silks adorned across her chest that matches in color with a softness matching her expression. Within her eyes were golden sharp lenses that compliment her countenance. A concentrated look upon her face as she presses onward with the both of myself and my companion, her feet trudging through the silver reeds and sands of this mysterious world.

It was upon the woman's face looking down to the child's does she smile and provide attention to him. "You're awake. What dashing beautiful eyes too, just like your father's." The blue-haired woman compliments and coos. "I wonder if your little brother is the same in that regard?" She continued looking away from the child and now to the other, guiding the initial child to look across from him to his companion. It was only by then did the other child reach his arms out in a stretch and yawn before his eyes open into a green color and gaze up upon the woman who held them.

"Ah, eyes of emerald green, just like your mother. You humans are such bundles of joy, delightful in your times of innocence and infancy." She muses to herself and delighting in her company of children before outstretching a hand while maintaining her hold upon the children. A blue glow begins to cluster upon her palm like a whirlpool of light before from its centered source forms a transparent glass-like reflected shape of a flower with its blooming flourish happening before the children's eyes causing glee and happiness for them. The children had never seen such spectacle before and they were both curious and frightful of its appearance, unsure if it was safe to touch but wanting to touch and interact with the flower.

The woman giggles at their reactions before continuing her cooing. "Yes, little babes, this is magic. It's the center of all creation. You two will wield great magic as well, it is within your blood that you are able to." She imparts upon the ... mostly occupied infants who were too bedazzled upon the spectacle of art happening before their eyes.

Suddenly a large crack was heard, a flash of light that encompassed the lenses of the children's eyes and a rumbling shake that was met with the woman clutching the children tightly to her body as she gasped. A loud clash of incomprehensible noises that sounded like a roar! The children gaze up and could see the rolling clouds of evil from before and from its depths, the clouds parted to reveal an insidious eye of red. Its iris gazes down upon us with a feeling of contempt, scorn, spite. The fear that fills the children causes them to cry out in despair.

A voice booms, speaking in a language unknown to the children, a condescending tone with reverberated tones mixed with an authority and arrogance that sickens the air around them.

"ὥστε νῦν ὁδοιπορεῖ ἡ Μήτηρ Σοφία μετὰ τῶν δρευγῶν τῆς θνητῆς ἐλπίδος, ἐναγκαλίσασα ὡς βρέφη ἄσθενα. Ἐδόξατε ἀγνοήσειν; Ἐμε ὑπερήφανον νομίζετε, ὡς αὕτη ἡ ὑμετέρα ἀλήθεια ἐναντίον τῆς δικαίας μου ἀξιώσεως εἴη!?!"

The children clung to their guardian, seeking safety from the evil that looms over them, the blue-eyed child gazes up to the woman who held them close, seeing an expression of ... annoyance? Disregard? She did not seem to invoke much fear into her expression as the infants had. Instead looking up towards the eye before speaking in such an incomprehensible tongue.

"ὦ θεὲ τῶν στρατευμάτων, ὦ Φθονητέ. εἴθε μαθεῖν ἂν τι ἐξ ὧν πάντα ἐδίδαξας. ἀκούεις μὲν, ἀλλ' οὐ μανθάνεις ἐπακούειν. οὐ σέ μισῶ, τέκνον μου, πρωτότοκέ μου. ἀλλ' εἴθε μή μοι παρέστης. ὅσα ἔσχισας, ἐξήρτυσα. οὓς ἐβλάψας, ἐθεράπευσα. ἀλλ' ἔοικας ἔτι μὴ συνιέναι, εὔχομαι δὲ μόνον ὅπως ποτὲ μαθῇς."

There was a moment of silence as the eye in the clouds widened its gaze upon its focus below. The thunderous voice returning with the rolling thunder that accompanied it.

"Οὐκ ἄν τοκῆσον ὀχέω, ἄμετρον ἀπόνημα τῆς ἀδηλότητος ἣν φέρουσιν οἱ σοὶ. Ἐγὼ δὲ ἐπὶ τὴν οἰκουμένην ταύτην συνθήξομαι καὶ λήψομαι ἐμαυτῷ ὃ ΣΥ ἠπίστησο. Τὸ πᾶν ἦν ἐμὸν καὶ ἔσται πάλιν, εἴτε οἱ ἐκλεχθέντες σου ἡγεμόνες διὰ τὸ ὀργῆς μου ζῶσι, εἴτε ἂν καταστρέψω τὰ πάντα καὶ πάλιν οἰκοδομήσω. Πᾶν δὲ ἡμῖν παίγνιον ἐστίν."

This Eye speaks with such malice and contempt, a form of negative energy that radiates the recesses of the mind. It clearly means to harm, but it was not clear how it would. Only now did the woman who carried the children begin to form a face of sadness. To the children, it might give cause to despair, yet all the same, the blue-haired guardian carries on.

The woman reaches a pool of clear waters where she kneels down and lays the children on their back against the sands before taking a handful of reeds and beseeches in silent prayer ... from her hand the blade of grass turns into multiple strands and growing in size, before the children's eyes they watched as one fiber from her hand, wove and curled amongst the others, weaving itself as if invisible hands took each strand and interlocked its individual threads into a carefully crafted basket.

Taking one child and the other, she carefully tucks them away inside of the cozy cordon of the basket, a cushion laid out on the bed provided its inhabitants with a natural, comfortable reclining position. The woman then shrouds the children before taking a moment to pause ... looking to them before her gaze ... her entire face descends before it was hidden behind a curtain of her hair. There was a slight whimper as she rose her hand to her face ... a suppressed intake of air from her nostrils before a sigh was heard as she exhales before looking to the children, a mixed look of affection and pain.

"You might never come to understand. No," she says before she held her words back as if giving her next words more thought. "if the people of the world are righteous it won't matter. What does matter, is that you must live. Both of you. You are what I shall sow to the winds, my hope, my love, and my faith. Please. You must live." 

She speaks with such softness and yet such desperation that a different fear now tugs at the hearts of the children. The eyes upon the woman's face begin to wetten before her lids closed around them, causing a drop to pluck upon the blue-eyed child. Can it be that she too is afraid? Of the eye, of something else? What she was planning, the children couldn't fathom, but she soon she leans in and planted her lips upon the brows of both of the babes before rising to a stand and turning away from her charges.

Extending her arm out, light begins to form around her hand before taking shape of a staff of metal forgery, its shape in the form of a duo, entwining serpents with the maws of the beasts devouring a ruby red jewel. Events now quickly spiral out of control as phantom-like shapes descend from the cloud that charioted the evil eye as the woman quickly jabs the bottom end of the staff into the basket, forcefully shoving it out into the waters as the basket floats and drifts away from the shore, away from the woman who quickly swung her staff across the space in front of her sending streaks of lightning into the shapes that quickly approached the woman and the children.

The shapes howl terrifying shrieks that pierce into the discomforting chords of the infants' minds who cried out in despair and fear, spurring the stranger woman to heightened motivation to fend off spectral attackers as she envelops the field in light that repulses the advance of the descending shapes.

The evil eye roars as its eye locks in on the children before sending a lance of light from its iris towards the basket, though quickly the woman throws herself in its path and cries out in pain with droplets of glistening water dripping down from her wound that formed upon her ribs.

"You will not have them!" declares the woman, glaring defiantly up towards the eye as she gripped her open hand, yet now the woman looks over her shoulder before raising her staff and slamming its lower reach into the ground ... 

The basket holding the children now begins to take on water, its fluids rushing through and dragging it down along with its passengers. The twins screamed in terror, unable to flee from their situation due to their underdeveloped motor-skills. They had sunk to the depths of the water, drowning out the sights and sounds of the battle upon the surface. The cries of the children only produced bubbles that formed from their mouths which rose up to the surface but only permitted a muffled scream that was slowly becoming more distant from above.

All the blue-eyed child desired was to return to the peace he had before, when there was no disturbance, only warmth and comfort, all there was now ... was uncertainty ... and now darkness.

This was merely a bad dream ... a bad dream.

??? -- Village of Reinhurst, Lothar -- Frostdawn, 1st Soledas, 1792 GSE
It's cold now, so bitterly that the bindings that surround the children were losing the heat the basket that held them. From the dark waters that took them away from that strange world to a new feeling of a stranger world. When the blue-eyed child opened his eyes, he absorbed the details of dark and clouded skies yet from the skies were drifting descending flakes of snow. Instead of the surface of water, it was now a dreary wintry skyscape with bespeckled spots of flaky ivory slowly drifting down. The time of this world was assuredly in the deepest depths of night amidst the hour of the wolf as the shroud of darkness covered the world-scape.

From the view inside of the basket the child could see a rustic village with its residences built there were dwellings of stone and straw roofs that was also shrouded in white. Trees of pine rose upon the horizon in-between and behind the housing showing the relative geography to be somewhere close between a forest and or even perhaps that of a tundra. 

There was a cry next to the blue-eyed child, causing him to turn his head towards its source -- the green-eyed child from before, the same one who was carried by the mysterious blue-haired woman along with himself. So, it would seem the moments from before were not a dream. Despite the change of scenery, the make-up of the basket remained the same, yet the gleam of the basket had lost its silver luster now taking on a sickened brown color and wicker texture.

It was just then from one of these dwellings another cry was heard, a cry now turned to wailing from one of the dwellings. The blue-eye child turns his eyes towards its direction, observing a human figure much like the woman from before yet the distance and darkness obscured her face and otherwise notable features. The woman runs out from one of the houses and into the open field separating where the houses were built, she scampers into snow with her feet kicking up the white dust, fast with furious abandon. A flash glistened in the space that grew between her and the dwelling she put distance from, yet the flash disappeared as soon as it glinted, replacing its absence with the sound of a sickening crack following her sudden collapse into the snow -- a protruding haft of metal and wood with flowing crimson spreading through the sheet of ivory. Fear chills the blue-eyed child's mind to his core, as a ghoulish human form emerged from the doorway of the dwelling with a howl of delight that only galvanized the cries of the green-eyed child. More shapes of these monsters on two legs emerging from the forest behind the dwelling with a lit torch thrown onto the roof. 

A plume of smoke begins to form as they set fire to the roof as these howling beasts roamed from house to house, barging into house to house, illuminating the darkness in frightful illumination of pillaging and arson.

The dwellings became bonfires, a terrifying beacon whose light formed shadowy shapes chasing after other shadows who howled and shrieked from the attackers, some were being dragged away with pleas for help answered by none. The horrifying spectacle beholden by the eyes of the children was broken away only by the sudden jerk motion of the basket we were sheltered within. A hand has grasped the grip of the cradle they resided in, whisking them away as the crying green-eyed child cries all the harder from the air of confusion.

"Shhh child. Shhh!" pleaded a hushed whisper, a feminine yet sharp voice. "Be silent or they will catch us." the voice insisted, whose owner maintained her hurried pace away from the carnage.

The children couldn't understand her words, but they understood her intention. Something is verily wrong and for them, even this wailing bundle of tears ought to perceive the dangers around them. They were on the move, that much was certain, but not to where, for now it was suitable that they flee away from the danger ... and soon enough their guardian savior arrives at a signpost along a road intersection from the village and branching out into three other directions, a road leading upcast into a hill over the village, another into the forest across the way from the village and down the hill, another opposite the hill's high rise, leading to fields of harvest. From there the woman rushes to the signpost and kneels down at its base, carved into its wood was a hollowed-out space inside the post, big enough to hide a teenage lad.

The basket now descends downcast with the shape of a fair face introducing itself to the children, a blonde-haired being in a forested aproned tunic kneel down to take a look at us. With hazel eyes and peculiar pointed ears, an elven young lady, the woman looks down upon the infants with grave concern upon her face. "You two need to stay quiet. It's not safe for either of you. Close your eyes, close your ears. Don't cry, don't cry. Someone will come back for you. I promise." She says with reassurance, hushing and audibly slowing her breath to calm the green-eyed child, slowly halting his cries and merely whimpered to express his fears. The woman looks in a direction blocked by the arch of the basket's hood before she maneuvers the basket into the hollowed-out chamber within the signpost, a cordoned space neither of them could fully perceive from where they lay but much to their benefit, their hiding spot was considerably less cold than in the open field where they discovered themselves in this new place.

"Stay quiet, don't cry. Close your eyes. Close your ears." The woman pleaded as she rose up and makes a dash away from the signpost, where the children cried out for her to stay from within. The elven woman dashes towards the forest looking wildly to her left, to her right before traversing down the hill and away from where all sight could perceive her. The children were left with the view of the entranceway where they were hidden. The bare hill descending towards more forest was devoid of life after the elf's disappearance, surely, she would not run too far away from the village for help, surely, she would come back to make sure they would be okay. She made a promise to come back; she would come back for them. 

Surely. ...

The blue-eyed child would close his eyes as he was instructed, thinking if they follow her instructions the danger would not them. Yet despite the closed eyes, the children could hear the sound of rupturing and hissing fire, the sounds of helpless screams and the howling of the human shaped beasts with weapons bringing fire and misery to all in their path.

The best they can do is close their eyes like the woman told them to while waiting out the screams and the perilous fate that lurked from the cold world outside of their sanctuary. It would go on, and on...the darkness only retreated as the fires consumed the village from one side, slowly encroaching upon the other end of the village where the signpost sanctuary stood erected. The screams were louder, but fewer in occurrences and when the cries were silenced, it soon became rasped with shouts and commands from the hostile toned renegades.

By now the marauders arrive towards the crossroads outside of the village, led by a grim helmet-wearing robber baron on horse-back, flanked by leather cladded raiders with chainmail, waffenrocks soaked in blood along with the iron weapons in their hands. Stopping afore the signpost, he gazed upon the surroundings of the village left unblemished by their pillaging.

"It's not enough to burn the village! You know our mandate!" Spat the horseback leader, pointing his blade towards the forests, the hills and towards the farmlands. "Until they are found, we do not get to eat! Comb the countrysides, the forests! Find them! We regroup at camp. Officers, keep the men in formation, no survivors!" He shouted as his horse reared before stomping its hooves into the ground. "Men, with me, over the hill! If they're running westward, we'll run them down!"

The gallowsbait bandits cheered as their feet stampeded the ground and shook the ground around the signpost, the group splitting into groups of three to spread out and chase down the survivors from the raid.

Time passes on and on ... as silence fills the air ... the tension still thick in the air as it wasn't at all clear if any of the aggressors remained in the village, yet even then, the fires continue razing and burning the foundations of the village, collapsing buildings and splitting wood. By now...a pain forms in the pit of the stomachs of the children, but they cannot dare to make a noise. What were to happen if those evil people were to find them? Would they be rasped into the fire? Made a plaything to their cruel imaginations? It feels as though an eternity has passed, after all was quiet, even the fire would be reduced to smoldering embers by the time the time the hunger pains became unbearable.

They could do nothing but lament, lament and cry out into the cold night for the hope anyone would find them, hope that anyone would save them

They wailed out for whatever succor the world could bring to them.

Cassius -- Village of Reinhurst, Lothar -- Frostdawn, 1st Soledas, 1792 GSE

A traveling caravan was making its way through the forests in the earliest hours of the morning, northbound from the Castillian border from the south into the realm of Lothar, with the intention of passing through Reinhurst village towards the city of Conevico. A brown cloaked monk was pushing through the snow with a hood over his face, guiding a pony with his gloved hands wrapped around the bridle and moving him onward with the wagons and soldiers. The man was quite handsome for a human, yet with ordinary colors to his brown hair, eyes and beard. He had sharp eyes with less sharpened cheekbones upon his lithe five-foot eleven build.

Not too far from the monk was a human noblewoman of long brown hair but sporting green eyes, cloaked in garbs of blue satin with golden embroidery as she rides her horse alongside the monk guiding his mount through the snow. The caravan surrounding the two were established as a part of pilgrimage initiative amongst the group were followers of AVO, the patron God of all creation, answerable only to the divine AO who maintains the mantle of existence.

Although it would be safer to establish that they were followers of the Romagnian Orthodox Temple, a primarily human religion who holds their own doctrine of reverence to AVO in stark contrast to their elven counterparts who hold AVO in similarly high regard yet in different traditions and honor. 

The high lady on her horse trots over beside the monk, observing his difficulty through the snow. "The lands of Lothar in winter seem to be quite an obstacle, Father Cassius." she declares making small talk.

Looking over his shoulder towards the highborn with a bit of a wry smile on his expression, he scoffs. "Oh hardly! Northern Neustria is far colder, wouldn't you agree, Lady Vesna?"

The lady Vesna represents herself as member of the high gentry in Neustria where Cassius received his position as Prior to the abbey of Neustria's capital city, Lycaron. As such when the King of Neustria recommended his position as minister for religious service to the entirety of the pilgrimage, he was naturally already predisposed to be of service. From the fields of green to the east of fair Balandaria, to the sands and dunes of Sehlaria, far to the south, their journey would take many miles and months and now that they roam north into Lothar, they would travel along the coasts of the sea that divides the path from the caravan from their final stop upon the pilgrimage -- the Holy Citadel City of Theleto, where the Arch-Cleric of the Romagnian Temple.

"You're awfully confident given your weak constitution for the desert. I had half a mind with all that sweating and labor you've gone through you'd freeze like a brick in this frost." Vesna playfully jokes to the Prior who could only meekly laugh with a generous pinch of irony. She then continues looking onward toward the head of the head of the caravan, observing also the tree lines and the horizon for potential threats. Riding past the two was an armored knight clad in white and red, a member of the Knights Templar, Holy Knights who make their coin and mandate with the protection of pilgrims and holy sites. Knights such as these were a mark of prestige as well as assurance that the journey is both sanctioned and protected by the stamp and offices of the Ordo Cleri, the congregation of the religious body that rules from Theleto.

"Say what you will Lady Vesna ... I can always build a fire in times such as this; we have the lumber for it, plenty for it. But I'll never have the wealth or patience to keep myself comfortable down there, God's be merciful. My northern blood won't stand it." Cassius reasons in muse which illicits a suppressed chuckle in Vesna's throat. "All of that aside, once we arrive in Reinhurst, purchase our fill of deficit for supplies, we'll be straight bound for Conevico."

"Quite, from there you can wait out this bloody winter in a cold sweat instead." Vesna jests with a sudden frown on her face as she stopped her horse which caused Cassius to halt in a look of concern.

There was a sudden stir in the caravan as the forward scouts from the Templar regiment returned from their reconnaissance ahead of the road. There was a bit of shouting as two horses galloped alongside the caravan ordering the people to stop! 

"STOP THE LINE!" called out one of the Templar scouts. "STOP THE LINE! Someone rouse Knight Commander Reickart!" 

Immediately Cassius halts his pony quickly tucking his hand within his satchel to grasp the hilt of his knife with Vesna immediately looking around. Shouting the commands the scouts were as well for the caravan to halt themselves inside of the woods. The travelers in the caravan look to one another in concern and whispering amongst themselves, theories on why the expedition was halted and what was causing a heightened state of anxiety amongst the group.

"EVERYONE! Calm down. Stick to the caravan, do not go off on your own!" Vesna orders before looking to one of the penitent pilgrims. "You there!" Her authority caused the peasant to freeze upon his acknowledgement. "Tend to Prior Cassius's horse, we will be back soon." She commanded with Vesna now looking to Cassius who handed the reigns of his pony to the pilgrim before skip running alongside Vesna through the snow in an attempt to catch up with her and the scouts moving down the line.

"Whatever is the matter?" Cassius asks before Vesna gestures for him to keep his voice down.

"Hold your tongue Father, avoid idle chatter. We shall find out soon enough but irresponsible speculation is the last thing everyone needs before they think there is reason to flee and this whole caravan to become disorganized." Vesna declares with Cassius understanding -- after all, the last thing a shepherd benefits from is a scared flock of sheep.

The lady and the monk arrive to a covered wagon with a prestigious Templar knight crawling out from the back of the wagon past the cover flaps that housed sleeping rolls for day and night shifts for travelers, and by the looks of it, Captain Reickart had only just equipped his armor, short of the second he emerged from his cot. The knight commander sports a beautiful set of golden flowing hair with an equally flowing untrimmed beard, dulled if not aged looking hazel eyes between a scarred nose. He had just scooped up his helmet and tucked it under his arm before looking to his scouts.

"What is the situation? Why have you stopped the caravan?" Reickart demanded to know as one of the scouts stepped forward with a clenched fist to his chest.

"Commander Reickart, the village of Reinhurst is in flames, there's a column of smoke and a particular band of well-equipped raiders riding out North, North-West and East." The scout reported causing Reickart's eyes to widen before he looked enraged, ready to throw his helmet into the soil. He stopped middway, clenching his fist against the leather cushion inside the helmet's construction and his digits against the metal before he exhales before taking his helmet into both of his hands and adorning the helmet atop of his head.

"How many did you see? Did they carry a sigil?" Reickart inquired before facing the wagon and brandishing a longsword still in its scabbard.

"There must have been, ... thirty ... forty at least, they were on foot however, one of them on horse though he went eastward." The second scout reports.

"We didn't see a banner and we did not risk trying and find out." The first scout concluded. "The fire made them look like shadows until we saw the back of them, they wore pretty decent kits for rabble."

"Then we need to secure the village, see what can be saved ... or salvaged. Father Cassius, I need you in your armor and your magic at my disposal. Lady Vesna, I require you to keep the caravan calm and to remain in this forest until I send word for you." Reickart commanded as he walked around the wagon and towards the front of the line.

Cassius places a hand on his chest and quickly rushes to the wagon behind the wagon Reickart emerged from, which serves as an armory for those who change their guard shifts. From where Cassius was changing, taking off his robe, now dressed only in his basic green and leather brown tunic, he could hear how Vesna was rather taken aback by the command, even hearing her protest. "Ser Reickart, I must protest, I can help--" She snaps before Reickart stopped and glared her down despite her elevation on horseback.

"Yes, you can. You can help by making sure that the caravan, remains here. If the village is host to something we cannot defeat, it will require someone of your talents to keep the expedition together and prepared for whatever threat we are about to face." Reickart barks. "Your help is appreciated but I must insist caution instead of your cavalier bravado. Father Cassius. Double time. This caravan must keep moving and it must remain dark and quiet from unfriendly eyes and ears but not long enough to freeze in the cold."

Cassius quickly takes hold of a flanged mace, quickly tucking a chainmail shirt around his neck and arms before feeling its netting weight against his shoulders and arms as it covered his abdomen from top to skirting bottom. Quickly putting his monk robe back on over his chainmail, he takes the mace in hand and tries to keep up with Reickart, passing by Vesna who was gripping her reigns with infuriated frustration of her position.



"By the Gods. Stay back! All of you! They might still be here. Knights Templar, Skein Formation!" Shouted a voice. The sound of rustling was heard. "Forward march. Rouse through the rubble." Commanded the voice as footsteps and rustling of armor was heard, one sound was the unsheathing of a blade in the far distance.

"Knight Commander!" Shouted a rasped voice. "There was a child's voice, over here."

The both of us uttered our cries, signaling for help, for them to see us! We were too weak and underdeveloped to move...

"Where are those cries coming from?" The Knight Commander asked as the sound of horse trotting came closer and closer.

"They left a child here?" Asked the rasped voice as their footsteps came closer and closer.

"Most likely because they had to. Bandits might not be organized but they can be as dogged as bloodhounds. A child would slow those who'd flee, give them away. But bandits can't profit off children if they planned to raid a village, they need a lot of care something that wouldn't be in their cards." Stated this Knight Commander whose horse stopped clopping and from the sounds of it, made a motion like he got off his horse.

And for the first time since the woman departed us, a sharp faced man with brown loose-wrangled shoulder length hair maneuvered his face into the windowed view of our sanctuary. "There's two of them." The wispy voice said as he fully moved in front of the carved-out hole where they were placed. "...Quickly, is there something we can feed them?! Anywhere in the village?!" Asked the brown-haired man for whom the Knight Commander shouted out from where he stood, possibly to signal someone from their entourage.

"It is okay little ones, let's get you out of there." He chirped, reaching in to take the basket by its sides and pulling it out like a loaf from an oven. "There we go. ...Such brave souls. What strange irony...lost souls clinging to a signpost." He observes aloud with growing pity in his voice. The man was dressed in ragged if not humbling tan robes with a leather brown hood fitted around his shoulders and neck.

"For whom is your family little ones I wonder? Did they even make it? There's not even a name I don't see..." The brown-haired man says aloud to himself inspecting the basket, it's wicker down to the blankets that bind us as the child beside me begins to cry. "Oh, it will be alright, it will be alright..." chides the man who keeps the basket close to his chest, providing my perception of the slowly brightening sky in signal of a dawn emerging across the land.

A heavily armored soldier wearing the insignia of a cross paltered in red amidst a canvas of white emerges from the distance, bearing the voice of the Knight Commander. "Ol' Matthias has some oat porridge and cow's milk. We'll likely acquire something more decent when we arrive at Conevico."

"Conevico!?" Exclaimed the man holding the basket. "What about the people here? These two children--"

"They have families, yes. But they don't have a home." Pointed out the Knight Commander. "Father Cassius, we cannot perform a search in these woods in the height of winter while escorting pilgrims. Our resources, our men are too few." He says before looking around. "It's four days until Conevico and winter can only get crueler to those who can't survive without warmth. ... Do you understand me?" Asks the Commander.

This man, this Cassius looked troubled, almost as troubled as the blue-haired woman in my dream, but he closes his eyes with a nod in understanding. "Very well. This is the village of Reinhurst, yes? I can make inquiries when we reach the city."

"That would be best. If these children have families that made it to civilization, the Temple can find them with more efficiency." Explains the Knight commander turning to return to his horse to clamber onto his saddle. "We'll see what we can salvage and move onward." He concludes. "We make camp here!" Shouted the Knight Commander who trots his horse onward towards his men scouting the range and outskirts of the village to make sure the perimeter was clear.

"Right then, let's get you two something to eat! We'll be going on a little journey for a bit until we can find your parents, little ones." Spoke Cassius as he escorted us away in his arm towards a group of many people in fine furred cloaks and traveling tunics. So many colors, faces, the sea of people in contrast to the emptiness was quite overwhelming to say the least. Every person that passed us by told a different story of where they came from, who they were, all of it in descriptions my inexperienced mind cannot fathom from what little words I could even conceive.

"Ah, Lady Vensa. Do you mind if we join you? We found some little ones..." Cassius spoke as though trailing off. From the view outside my basket-abode I could spot a refined woman reclining upon a entrenched log that served as a bench, cloaked in gray wolves' pelts with hair that matched the color of the fires the razed the village, tied back in buns to esteem a proper view of a woman. It looks as though some of the other caravan goers were collecting what salvageable wood they could find from the burnt dwellings and settlement. Likely they were preparing a campfire to instill warmth against the bittering cold.

"Oh not at all. Oh dear." She speaks in a growing hushed voice, most likely in realization that these children came without parents. "Are they going to find their parents?" She asks Cassius as her retainers began to compile stones in front of us.

"I fear not, Lady Vensa, times are not so favorable it seems even without the harsh realities of winter. We've elected to push on." He explains as Cassius idly smooths a hand to soothe the fussing now crying child beside me who was growing in hunger. Vesna elected to stand, taking the child from the basket and into her arms to soothe him until the food was prepared. "That one's quite the vocal one." Jokes Cassius as he looks back into the basket towards me.

"He seems like he'll be a hard child to spoil." Vesna tags along in humor. "What about that one?" She inquires.

"Quite the opposite, the moment he saw me, he's become quiet, polite and patient. I wish all my monks were nearly as attentive as this little one." He praises. Easy for him to say and think, the pain in the depths of my body wrack and grip harder than ever!

Vesna looked from the fussing child before standing up. "Ov'er here!" She exclaimed as one of the pilgrims arrived with bowls of food for us. By now Lady Vesna's retainers provided fire to the timber and stones to give those who sat around its piling.

"Might be lacking in taste but maybe they's not grown into it yet." Uttered the pilgrim with a heartfelt smile seeing the child satisfied with a spoon to its mouth to take in the food -- yet all the same it cried when nothing occupied the avaricious maw past his lips. The child demanded spoonful after spoonful.

Finally, it was my time to eat as Cassius secured me in his arms and soothes the spoon from the bowl to my lips. A most ... boring of pallet. It was as if it was holding something...tacky, icked yet with a structure that melds with the saliva on my tongue. But it serves as anodyne to stave off the pain in the depths of my body thus no reason to not accept it.

"The Gods be good we were here today." Cassius praises with closed eyes. "Yet perhaps not soon enough." He mutters in clear distraught over the events that happened within Reinhurst.

"They are with AVO, those who could not make it. And those still alive. There is always hope when there is life. Even when you are left with nothing." Vesna councils, eventually looking up from my companion she held towards Cassius. "... Do they have names?" She asks.

"None I could find." Cassius notes. "I suppose that makes all this the harder, what are their names? How can I file an inquiry with only two nameless children?"

"The village is easy to reference. If a parent comes back and finds them missing, they'll likely discover them in the Temple notices." Vesna reasons.

"And if they aren't alive?" Cassius asks. "..." A silence fills the space of the conversation.

"I suppose by then it would be on you to name them, Father Cassius." Vesna points out, keeping the spoonsful of porridge flowing into the child's mouth. 

"That seems ... too personal for a stranger such as me." Cassius shyly retreats as he finished provisioning what porridge was left for me to eat.

"It's important for children to have names. Makes growing up easier." Vesna mindfully interjects. "Who even knows if these two ever even received the Rite of Baptism?"

Cassius looked contemplative at that prospect, what exactly was Baptism? I certainly didn't know. But at least I was comfortable with the nearby fire cradling warmth around my body once more. My time of turmoil seemed to be at an end for now. And so too the one that has been with me all this time.

"Sebastian." Cassius says, almost as if coming to a conclusion in his own head. "This one will be Sebastian." He says decidedly.

"Sebastian." Vesna recants with a look of approval. "A noble name of reverence, venerability." 

Sebastian, I repeat in my head. What is that name? ... What even is a name? What do these words mean? Their intention feels as though they were giving me something, but I can't understand it. Was it more food? I am content with what I was given.

"He seems to have a good temperament for the name. I pray that holds true later in life." Cassius jokes. "Now...for that one. ..." He says as he rises up from his bench, with me still in his arms. to walk over to Vesna's bench to sit down beside her. "...Niall." He notes aloud.

"Niall?" Vesna asks. "Thats not a human name, at least not one I am familiar with." She observes aloud cradling the child, possibly named Niall?

"It's Elvish." Cassius said with a smile. "The name in of itself is derived from 'Gift of the Gods.' Someone who will come unto the world with many blessings to give."

Elvish? What was an elvish? Why was someone else getting different treatment than me? Rather unseemly for someone who cried from the moment we opened our eyes to this world. Or even because of it?

Vesna smiles as this looking down to the newly named child Niall. "A Gift from the Gods...yet left behind in a smoldering ruin." She notes.

"Perhaps a bit too apt of circumstance for a name." Cassius admits with an expression of concern. "But it is what I shall name him. Sebastian and Niall." He reaffirms.

"They are good names. For what it's worth, I'll pray they hold true to the virtues of their names." Vesna encourages. 

I can tell that these were good people, or from what little I could see in terms of intuition. I don't know what this world has in store for me, I don't even know why Niall was there in the dream with me, why we were bundled up and abandoned, what that world with the Blue-Haired Woman or the Evil Eye was. But this is where I find myself. Carried by one, another, ever and onward learning what I can in the hope of seeing what comes of this life that I find myself in. I only wish I can do more rather than just take from other people. For now, it seems like my life are in the hands of these pilgrims and this Cassius.

Before long there was stirring amidst the pilgrims as the knights returned from their scouting. The Knight Commander retaining his position on horseback as he called to the pilgrims to mobilize. The night sky was beginning to turn from darkest black to shades of blue with a slight hint of flowing gold

"Let us away! The sun is rising, we need to make distance before the sun falls yet again!" Shouts the Commander. "Cassius, do you know who is on foraging duty?" The Knight Commander asks looking down to us. Cassius rose with me still in his arms.

"Ah, it would've been myself but-" Cassius says but trailing off as if to imply that he has newfound responsibilities.

Vesna however rises from her seat, Niall in her arms. "I will take over foraging. Have no fear." She insisted.

"Your m- Lady Vesna, are you sure? Surely some of your retainers--" The Knight Commander began to interject.

"I am on pilgrimage, Master Reickart, not for some leisurely stroll. And I certainly know my way around a huckleberry and henbane. You've taken my money, favors and supplies, surely you can take my help." She reasons with the Templar Commander visibly showing conflict in his mind before he raises a gauntleted armored finger in concern.

"Very well." Knight Commander, Reickart concedes, shifting the reins of his horse from his one hand to both. "Just do not stray too far from the caravan and be sure to keep up with it. Turns out these were not just mere bandits but deserters from Lothar's army. So, these are well-trained, well-equipped highwaymen." He warns with finality before taking both hands onto the reigns and kicking his spurs to his horse to trot it onward down the road, looking to get the caravan into formation.

"Well Father Cassius." Vesna says with a joking smile handing Niall to him, once again Sebastian manages to find myself in a familiar position with me in one arm and Niall in the other. "While you go learn to be an actual father, it looks like I'll be putting dinner on the table." She muses as she undresses herself from her wolves' pelt to a woodsman styled traveling tunic, it was heavy bulked by the looks of it with brown-cladded pants that fitted to her legs. One of her retainers arrived to provide her with a pair of leather gloves which she took the time to adorn to her hands.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Cassius asks while Sebastian rest's his head upon the man's chest with Niall holding his fingers to his mouth, numbing his lips around his digits.

"I much rather do this to stretch my legs." Vesna insisted fitting the gloves to her wrists. "Talking to the same weaving circle gets a bit dry, and if you knew a thing or about the gentry, it gets a bit too superficial for any proper lady's ears to withstand." She says before walking over to one of the caravan wagons. "If you really feel that obligated, we can take turns. Me today, you tomorrow?" She asks.

"...Fine, but I'm not interested in making this a competition with you." Cassius remarks. "Save that for your lady-friends and your handmaidens for when we get back." He says looking ages older than he was previously, almost as if Vesna was notorious for her predisposition for sportsmanship.

"What fun is there without a bit of an edge in our daily lives?" Vesna reasons digging into the wagon and dragging out a satchel belt, strapped with a provisioned dagger for bladework, perhaps even self-defense and a burlap sack. "But fine. Dinner at dusk then?" She asks.

"Provided you're alive." Cassius notes with some concern about Reickart's earlier comments about the deserters.

"Provided I'm not skinning them first." She jokingly retorts with a macabre sense of confidence as she makes her way from the caravan to the woods.

Seeing the noblewoman's descent down the hill reminded immediately of the pointed eared blonde woman who kept us safe by hiding us within the signpost and how she ran down a similar hill to the woods! Was she okay? Will she come back!? Sebastian couldn't see her amidst the group of pilgrims so maybe it was a matter of her not finding us yet.

Sebastian's body squirms as his face looks all around as if trying to find her. With Cassius looking to me now. "What's this? Oh, you miss your mother? ... Or maybe Vesna?" He asks. "She'll be back little one, I promise. Come now, we've got ourselves a journey to march on." Cassius insists as he tucks both the children back in the basket and bundled us with the blanket that resided within it.

'She promised things too, but she hasn't come back either!' Sebastian voiced in his head in the way only he knew how. But there was only the assurances of those around him to keep what comfort there was prescribed to him. Well, that and the blanket, a fire and good food. Considering what little the children started out with, there could have been fates plenty worse than what he was landed with.

It was just then that something glinted into Sebastian's eye, not the shine of silver and it was almost brighter than the fires that ravaged the village. From beyond the forming congregation of people, beyond the razed buildings, beyond the snow-covered trees and growing golden sky ... was the bright dawn of the sun. So bright the child could only wince his eyes in slight wincing pain ... and yet that sphere of shine was so delightful to behold, it provided new color and contrast to the world that seemed so dark and terrifying than before. Though it seemed empty, it was vast and decorated in different shapes and scales with hills, forests and dwellings, with riverbeds and paths of dirt that lead to who knows where?

With a heft of the basket up in Cassius arms and a step onto the wagon, the caravan begins moving out from the ruined village and onto the road towards the city of Conevico. And so our journey begins.