" The time will come for the past of the future to converge.
And those which you always deny, surely shall emerge.
Wheel of the world will be put to rest,
Slaves of avarice will beg and confess,

'I have seen enough'

Sapiens deserve no more of the mother earth
For what good of a faith that has been spitted to dirt.

Thus, every corner of the sky will hear
The echoes of their trembling fear
Seven billion tears and seven billion cries
But not He who had severed the ties

For He heard nothing but seven billion lies "

Those are the lines of the last speech of Yars, The First Messenger. The chase for the Voice of The Dawn will always be a quest for every soul that live within Aerdrin. In a world where might and magic spins the universe, how will destiny reveal its lessons?

Aerdrin: The Lost Heir of The Sky

Atop a wide bridge filled with peddlers and artisans selling their wares and juggles, A woman dressed in black draws her sword that is made of gold. Like a damsel in rage, she points her glistening sword towards a man donned in a mask. 


The crowd runs wild, some looking for the city guards, and some other cheers at the not-your-everyday-hustle. They haven't yet figured out what had happened nor who are having the quarrel. For only the dusk's faint light could reveal what's under the barrel. 


" Draw your sword vile filth! For there's no honor to cut the head of the unarmed! " 


Cynthia roared with a battle cry, provoking her opponent. Her world play riled up the surrounding crowd even more. Now they are dying to see some blood to be spilled on the ground. The street bards played their drums and flutes to set the mood, while the pyro dancers lit up their flames. Things like this one have always been a spice to fill up their ragged coin bag. 


Chapter 63 - A Bombastic Hats Off