Freezing - that's how Farion described the streets of Farweyn in the night. It was as if a sudden snowstorm had swept through and left the cold in its wake, taking the snow along with it. Although it never snowed there; nor did it rain.

The sun came and went but shifts of weather never found itself upon the city and none dared venture beyond the gates under Alimar's order to find out if it were different anywhere else.

The city was it's own prison, self-sufficient, and condensed with overpopulation; an issue brought upon their leader who did nothing about it. He believed in Alimar at the time, thinking that there was nothing worth seeing beyond the golden gates, just pain and death but he was beginning to wonder - to doubt.

There had to be a reason why none were allowed to leave, the order became the first reason for the unrest within the population, the second being revenge. They had been told that they had to return to Sciolyn and he wanted to, but there was something Zeke and Alimar weren't telling him.

He walked along a white-stone path, shivering as a cold breeze swept past him. He had his hands in the pockets of a golden waistcoat, where they would remain for the rest of the journey. His destination, however, was the Golden Star Inn where he intended to find someone willing to cause a ruckus.

He passed a cloaked elf who had a hood drawn far over his head, obscuring his face. Farion tried to stop and speak to him but the elf moved past, not acknowledging him for a moment.

What's his problem?

Farion reached a reassuring hand over the hilt of his dagger strapped to the back of his belt and sighed. He had to be cautious just in case. Never in his long life had he ventured this deep in the city, a place that, as he looked around; gave a small sense of danger.

The rounded architecture was still prominent amongst the buildings but they all seemed unclean as if the prestige had been stripped from the very foundations and pissed all over. It left a bad taste in his mouth and he spat on the stone in disgust.

He continued on through the empty dark streets, scanning his surroundings warily. He could feel a shadow at his back, even under the beaming streetlights, he didn't feel safe. He snapped around behind but there was nothing there - nobody.

I hate doing grunt work.

He sighed again and concluded he was simply being paranoid then continued marching on. Suddenly he was thrown into the outer wall of a building by his side. He slammed against it, feeling his skull tap the hard stone with a vibrating pain rippling through his head.

His immediate reaction was to hold his hand to his head, he felt the warm sticky sensation of blood but before he could recover he felt a hand grasp the collar of his waistcoat.

In a daze, he tried to make out who was holding him but he saw nothing but a hooded silhouette with the streetlight shining behind him. He had been caught by surprise, but he was a soldier and it wouldn't happen again.

The figure's weight had him held hard against the wall but Farion managed to slip a shaking hand behind and grasp the hilt of his dagger. With a seething rage, he pulled it from its sheath and slashed at the figure in one motion. The hooded elf took a step back into the glow of the streetlight, missing his blade by a hair.

With the weight now off of him and slightly recovered, he put himself into a combat stance. His left foot forward and to the side with his dagger held out in front of him in his left hand. The hooded figure merely looked at him without a discernable reaction then spoke.

"You don't look to be from this part of the city," He said with a stern voice and gesturing at Farion's attire, "What's your business?"

"You always attack before asking questions?" Farion retorted.

"I had intended to before you slashed your blade at me."

Farion looked to the elf, holding his dagger firmly, "Perhaps you should consider walking away, I won't show you this kind of mercy twice."

A laugh emitted from the shadow of the hood, "Not before you tell me why you're here."

"Why do you care? As far as you know I'm simply going for a stroll."

"Nobody simply goes for a stroll in this part of the city," The elf paused and lifted his cloak to reveal a longsword, "I won't ask again. Why are you here?"

Farion snorted, "You really think you stand a chance?"

"I do," He said and two more hooded figures emerged from the shadows by his side.

Farion wasn't equipped to deal with three at once, not armorless at least. He continued to hold the dagger in front of him with a firm grasp but soon relented with a sigh and lowered it.

"Nobody from the upper city makes their way here," The hooded elf who stood in the light started, "You must have a good reason to be here."

"I have an old friend I'm meeting at the Golden Star," He lied.

"Nobody from the upper district has friends here and I've never seen you before."

Farion spread his arms, "So what then? You're going to mug me?" Farion reached into his pocket and tossed a coin purse to the man in the light, "Here."

The hooded elf simply followed the sack as it was tossed through the air, landing just by his feet then gazed back at Farion.

"You're here to join us, aren't you? I see word has reached even beyond our district," The hooded elf said softly.

Farion raised an eyebrow and for a moment forgot what to say. He quickly nodded and let out a raspy, "yes."

"Why else would someone like you be here and playing coy with his answers."

Farion didn't know what to say, though something about the elf's tone came off as testing. Either he was bluffing or it had to be some sort of lucky coincidence, he decided to humor them.

He knew that the people were getting restless, but he'd never had guessed they'd come this far already. If he wasn't lying then all he had to do now was play along and get on their good side.

"So is this it? Just you three?" Farion said sarcastically. He was surprised when all three nodded in response.

"Yes, it's just us," The one in the light replied.

"And who exactly are you three?"

The three hooded elves looked to one another briefly but did not remove them, "I am Lief," The one in the light said, "To my left is Zon and to my right is Fyr."

"Alias's I'm guessing. Call me Gwyn if that's the case, but please," Farion gestured ahead, "Let's go somewhere more... Quiet."

The three led him far from the main streets and through several sets of alleyways until they arrived at a cellar that was at the back of a tall house. The door creaked open and he followed them inside. It was a dirty cellar with nothing out of the ordinary, just racks upon racks of wine stacked along the walls with barrels in between. At the center of the room on the stone floor stood a simple wooden table and three chairs with a lone candle in the middle emitting a faint glow. The elf named Lief removed his hood to reveal a very young man beneath it.

He had short chestnut brown hair and icy blue eyes. A faint stubble had begun to grow on his square jaw. The one called Fyr removed his own to reveal that he looked the exact same as Lief, he could only guess that they were twins.

That left Zon, though he didn't remove his hood. Zon simply gestured towards one of the chairs for Farion to sit and he obliged while Zon stood behind him with his arms folded.

Lief and Fyr took seats opposite of him and watched Farion with curious eyes. He could tell that they had many questions to ask. He wasn't going to tell them his true identity, he had a suspicion that they didn't take kindly to soldiers, especially one as high ranking as he.

"So," Farion started, "Give me the run down."

He hadn't heard of them and he needed to know what they were all about. Did their desires align with his own? Or was this some sort of criminal activity he'd gotten himself into.

"This place," Lief started, "We know the truth. We know why Alimar hasn't let anyone leave the city since we arrived."

This piqued Farion's curiosity, he raised an eyebrow and nodded for the elf to continue.

Lief leaned in closer to Farion and spoke almost in a whisper, "We need to leave this place. Return to where we came from."

"What did you learn?" Farion spoke low, trying to hide his intense curiosity.

"There's nothing," Fyr stated before Lief could respond.

"Elaborate."

"There's simply nothing," Lief replied, "At the edge of plains, beyond the horizon, there's nothing. Gwyn, we're floating... The city - that's all there is here."

Farion didn't even try to hide his surprise, though he was skeptical. He knew more than anyone that the walls were sturdy and nobody should have been able to breach them. With his men posted all across them, nobody could have been able to climb them unseen.

Unless someone's been slacking off.

"You're full of it," Farion murmured.

Lief stared at him unflinchingly for a moment and then sighed, "I didn't expect you to believe us so we'll simply show you."

"You're joking, right? Not a chance we'll be jumping the walls unseen."

"We know," Zon said with a monotone voice.

"So how then?" Farion shot back.

Zon glanced at Lief expectedly, waiting for him to say something. Lief, without a word, rose from his seat and made his way across the dark room, outside of the candlelight, and stopped near a large wooden wine barrel by the wall.

"First, you prove your loyalty, Gwyn," He declared and folded his arms.

Farion shrugged, "What do you expect me to do?"

"Tell us who you are."

Farion hesitated as a sudden lump fell into his throat and he began to sweat. He was right where they wanted him and there was no way he could take them on by himself. He had to lie, there was no way they could possibly figure out who he really was and he couldn't predict their reaction if they did.

"Garweyn Lirion," He lied, "I'm a tailor in the upper district."

All three elves stared at him for a moment. Eyes locked on his face in search of some tick that gave away the lie. Farion kept his face straight as butterflies fluttered within his stomach.

He had to seal the lie with a deal, one only he could make to convince them.

"I happen to have some connections with the blacksmith, a small favor he owes me for," He lied again, "Come tomorrow I will send a shipment of freshly sharpened weapons to your little hidey-hole here as proof of my loyalty."

Fyr, who was still seated opposite of him suddenly drew a dagger and stabbed it into the table, startling Farion.

"Swear it!" He said gesturing to the dagger.

Farion knew what it meant - a blood seal. Proof of trust and promise; an age-old custom that still held to elven society to this day.

He dreaded the cut that would be left behind but he fully intended to make well on his promise, it had been the plan right from the start. He grabbed the hilt firmly but hesitated and looked to Lief who was patiently waiting.

"Before I make this promise, remind me. What are your plans with the weapons?"

Lief stared into Farion's eyes, "To forcibly remove Alimar from office. We've been waiting for far too long and the city is overpopulated! We can't expand any further and we are on the edge of a void, of our own extinction," He paused and composed himself, "We know of the Wayfinder's existence, only he can save us; not Alimar."

Farion could tell from the elf's words that his heart was full of resolve. He would have made a great soldier in his battalion and he almost regretted that he was practically sending them to their deaths.

He knew they wouldn't stand a chance against the men surrounding the castle. It would all be in vain but perhaps he was underestimating them. At the end of the day, they both wanted the same thing.

No longer hesitating, Farion pulled the blade from the table and slit it across his left hand. Fyr did the same and the two elves firmly shook on it. The promise was no written in blood, there was no turning back.

"If you break this blood promise," Lief said menacingly, "Then we'll assume you're a spy and kill you."

Lief twisted the spigot at the front of the wine barrel and it opened like a door with a squeak. Farion had to admit, he'd never expected anyone to dig under the city. Then again, people were getting desperate.

Fyr grabbed the candle and rose from his seat, Farion followed suit and made his way towards Lief with Zon at his back like a shadow.

Through the wine barrel, there was a tunnel that stretched as far the eye could see, there was no light at the other end just a cold empty blackness. The tunnel was tall enough for them to walk and was solely made of dirt, yet their footsteps still echoed with a crunch. The claustrophobic space gave little room for Farion to feel comfortable, feeling confined as his shoulders grazed the loose dirt on the walls.

They walked for what seemed like hours until they reached the other end and emerged into the cold breeze of the night. Farion spun to look back upon the city as it glowed like a golden beacon in the shadow of night. The castle with its great tall spires and white-gold stone reminded him of a lighthouse upon a rough sea of grass - it made him feel safe.

"Come," Lief beckoned.

He followed the elf across the long green grass until he saw it. He wouldn't have ever believed it but as he gazed down into the nothingness below, his whole world shattered. Everything he had ever believed, his duty and loyalty to Alimar had suddenly be cast into the abyss he now found himself gazing in fear at.

Further down below he could see other floating plains. Bits of land that looked like the one he found himself on. He snapped a glance at Lief, he looked back with a face that read 'I told you so'.

"So it is true. Our return to Sciolyn... We have to make haste."

Lief cocked his head towards his brother and Zon, "You make do on your promise and we'll work on recruitment. It shouldn't be hard considering the state of the city."

Farion gazed again to the edge of the world, encapsulated in the beauty of the void. It was like a night sky with luminescent blue and green spirals scattered about, looking like an embroidery pattern upon linen.

That was the moment he knew for absolute certain that they had to return. Alimars obsession with subtlety was causing their race to stagnate and fester in their own filth. Their desire for revenge was no longer the main cause of action, it fell second to the very survival of their kind.

"You will get the weapons at dawn," Farion reassured, "The time has come."