The invasive frost brings men to cower before tyrants they trust to hope. Our world, our Astear, pulls farther from the sun each year. Winter freezes evermore as warmth flees us. And our Protector’s star eludes us.
The Diviners forsake us after the All-World’s Cratering. Do the agents of the Gods believe we deserve punishment? Do King Ruslan’s teachings make us believe otherwise? Do all five worlds share our fate?
Nonetheless, the void in the sky becomes less distant each day. All fear its pull, its crushing madness. All fear the void, the Unending Black. Nigh is our end.
About the Creator
C.T.D.
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