''In order to know the true meaning of peace, one must go through the pain of war. To be able to differentiate emotional attachment from true love one must lose their dearest. In order to know true friendship one must give their life to other, and as one knows the cost of losing everything, he becomes a splendid weasel for hatred or love.''
It's the early autumn of 3278. year of the 2nd era. Atum is not worshipped. Not anymore. It exists now only as a residue — a presence soaked into the soil where too much blood was spilled, into the stone bones of cities that have been rebuilt too many times. Neither god nor spirit, but the echo of something vast, exhausted, and unfinished. It was once said Atum began the world with a breath, but now that breath is stale, stretched thin over broken lands and hollow hearts. No temple stands for it, yet it is felt everywhere — in the uneasy stillness before frost, in the dreams of the starving, in the silence between each dying season. Atum is the shape that absence takes, the weight that memory leaves behind when it outlasts faith. Whatever it was before the war, it is now a shadow across the age — ancient, indifferent, and unbearably near.
Only 3 and a half years have passed since the last war. Although giving how often such events occur, This time was enough for all the major cities to recover almost fully, however situation was not as bright for the smaller villages, as their reconstruction was not of the higher class priority and all the food and resources that the residents had saved, had to be given to their lords. The starvation and poverty ravaged those places and it was no secret that death from the grip of cold will once again claim many lives when the winter comes.
The village, that is currently located between energy, infernal and dark kingdoms, on the furthest point from the capital of each one of them, residents couldn´t really feel the change in quality of life when the rule had changed so many times before. Only thing certain was that when the rule did change, it was accompanied by plunder and demolition, but at the current moment, the state of his village was far from being Terval´s most significant concern against the background of the information he just received. He was on his way home after visiting the local cleric and receiving a letter from the head of the Seradyl church, the Eclipse himself. As positive, as the fact, that such high ranked individual was interested in helping some poor vassal might sound, receiving a letter, in which it is stated, that his illness cannot be cured even by the best.
As he holds a rain-soaked letter, Ink dripping on the soil below, Terval acknowledges, that there isnt even a point for trying to preserve the inscription. As he strolls by the road home, some people he knew were going about their business, They did look up seeing Terval come by for a brief moment of silent greeting. Terval answered with a light head hint before turning his gaze back on the road. He knew it was pointless to look away to hide his tears anyways, since the tears he cried were overwhelmed by the rain flowing over his face.
As he approached his home district, the cold breeze interrupted his thoughts of his inevitable demise and he saw the woman, his future bride approaching him with wide open arms and careless smile on her face. It was a little bit too soon for their meeting, he thought, but the only action he could have done was to turn his reddened face away while she leaned for the hug. Though that was of little use since he immediately noticed how quickly concern overwhelmed initial optimism in her tone. ´´Hi hun! I see you are back earlier then you said you would...but anyways its pouring outside, we should go home quicker.´´ Hearing how lively she sounds even after realizing that somethings off, made his heart feel just a little bit warmer. At the moment when they approached their home it was raining as heavily as before. The house they lived in was hardly distinguishable from other houses in the neighbourhood. Not too big or fancy as like other people living around here, he made living by farming and harvesting wood from time to time. His house was still not completely finished - incomlete fencing, still unfinished carvings on decorative wood parts, rain drainage system was still yet to be made as the front lawn was completely covered in puddles.