The stars shone brightly on a crescent moon night, their rare luster reaching for something just beyond their grasp. The wind was calm and soothing, carrying with it the smell of freshly baked bread that reminded Nebule of home. It was one of the most beautiful nights he had ever seen, if he weren't bleeding to death, it would have been perfect.
As Nebule lay on the grass, bleeding out, his life flickered before his eyes, memories he had long buried in his heart began to resurface. They weren't necessarily bad ones; they were simply painful.
He remembered the last time he saw his mother, when he was five, her hand warm and soothing around his.
The day he met his lord in the vast desert of Arcana.
The day of his wedding, sunlight gleaming off his bride's auburn hair.
The last time he saw her, the sound of rain pouring outside.
The eight long years spent fighting in the war.
The moment he learned his lord's terrible secret and chose to revolt.
Their brutal loss.
And finally, this, his end. He had lived his life, and his time had come.
As the images of his hopes, dreams, triumphs, regrets, and shortcomings flashed before his eyes, Nebule felt a strange sense of loss. His time in this world was over. Yet he took solace in knowing he had done what was necessary. His sacrifice had ensured hope for the future. He closed his eyes one final time, and as his spirit drifted to the boundary between life and death, crossing the waters of the river Styx, he passed away.
Five hundred years later, the sun rose after a long night. The golden light of dawn bathed a small log cabin at the edge of the grasslands. The air carried a gentle, ethereal stillness. Then, piercing through the calm like the first rays of dawn, came the wails of a newborn child.
With vibrant green eyes full of life and obsidian-black hair, the boy was beautiful. Arthur and Roxanne were ecstatic at the birth of their son, holding him tightly in their arms. They had long wished for a child, and now their wish had finally been fulfilled. Arthur, with his deep but calming voice, asked his wife:
"What shall we name him, my dear?"
Roxanne, tired from the long delivery, thought for a few seconds before replying, "Let's name him Aster. It was my grandfather's name. May he be a man who brings light to the world as his predecessor once did."
End of prologue...