Location: Watchtower in the north.
In the north of asterra, Master Yeru, the famed old watchman of the north and keeper of Asterra's Northern Bells, climbed the iron ladder to the rooftop. The wind lashed against his face, carrying smoke and the stench of burnt wood and rusted metals.
Then he spots the sea captains raven as he plucked a scroll from it, letting the bird take flight into the darkening sky.
He ripped the scroll open with curiosity, as it read.
"Yeru, an imminent change has began, becareful old man, protect yourself and protect the future of asterra"
For a moment, the old watchman's face showed his fear. Then his eyes turned northwest, where the sky glowed orange and black, with fire still eating at the horizon. "If Groggin is right," Yeru murmured to himself with a shaky voice as he took in the devastation, "Asterra will never forget today"
Behind him, the Northern Bell rang without pause, its booming toll rolling over the snowy plains and echoing from town to town all around the north, a sound that meant only one thing, Disaster.
Suddenly a hand slammed onto Yeru's shoulder, pulling him from his thought. Ray his runner, covered in soot and dirt, gasping for air, stared up at him.
"Master yeru… Northwest," Ray coughed, voice shaking. "Southeast. Southwest. All three regions hit, sir. Asterra is under attack!"
"Hurry, lad!" Yeru yelled with a sharp tone. "Bring me every information from every affected cities towns and villages you can reach. Give priority to reports from Lady Selene or our Sovereign, lord Eryndor!"
"Aye, sir!" Ray nodded, as he sprinted down the tower stairs two steps at a time, running into the watchtowers yard and then exiting its premises.
Yeru broke open another scroll, scanning it quickly.
"352 dead in the western town. 92 dead and counting in the southeast villages…"
Yeru immediately sits back heavily against the wooden beams on the watchtowers rooftop, his hand shaking with the parchment still crumpled in his grip, his hands shaking from fear and exhuastion.
And then…
Slowly and steadily, Morning bled into Asterra.
Location: Town olsmere in the west
In Olsmere two-thirds of the town laid in ruins and destructions. the surviving parts of the town was filled with survivors that paced around.
Shouts tore through the streets of olsmere as desperate men and women called for loved ones who didnt answer.
Blackened buildings leaned broken, crumbled, and destroyed. Every corner filled with survivors was filled with grief, fear, and trembling.
Some survivors in olsmere had already began building a shantytown of patched tents to help wounded survivors.
Some women tore their linens into strips to bind the injuries of the injured, while others dragged out the bodies they could find from the burnt buildings. Most were unrecognizable, reduced to nothing but blackened bones. People began to kneel beside the ruins, crying and wailing, their voices rising into the smoke-filled sky.
"Where… where is God?" a woman sobbed, kneeling before an empty space where her family house had been.
"Why… why us?" a man whispered, tears streaking down his face.
Grief and sorrow hung heavy all over Olsmere,
Within one of the tents, Mira jerked her eyes open as she groaned painfully. Her whole body felt fever-hot, stiff, and heavy. She tried to move but couldnt, her body felt too heavy to move.
Through her blurry vision, she spots shadows of survivors pacing in and out of the tent she laid in. The smell of smoke clung to them, mixing with the scent of healing herbs.
Mira tried to speak, but no words wouldnt come out. Then suddenly a gentle hand touched her forehead with a cold cloth, as it cooled the heat in her temple.
"Rest, child," a woman's voice followed with the gentle touch "You are safe for now." She said assuriny to mira.
Mira laid back with relief, knowing the night she had witnessed had come to an end and she had found safety. Slowly and steadily she began drifting towards sleep.
Among the survivors, five hooded figures glided like shadows through town olsmere.
Their black cloaks swallowed their bodies, and their faces hidden in shadows. These were the Inciters and the Whisperers, masters of rumors and manipulation.
They immediately leaned close to the some of the grieving, their words soft as they began to incite.
"This is the work of white lumin crystals," an inciter murmured.
"Lord Eryndor laid hands upon them, and used it against his people" hissed another.
Their whispers spreading through the survivors like wildfire.
"This is the work of Heavens Blitz." They continued.
"Roaring flames, cutting winds, no mistake it is valesse weapon" Peoples eyes bulged to the spreading news, as gasps and uneasy mutters spread among the survivors.
Then In mere moments, Abels voice rang loudly across olsmere. "This was no foreign attack!" he shouted. His voice echoing into the erected tents. "This was the work of our very own sovereign, Lord Eryndor of House Valesse!"
Gasps rippled through the survivors outside, everyone shocked to hear such from abel.
Mrs. Trinket, the local nurse tending to Mira's wounds, gripped keith, her husband's sleeve.
"Is it true?" she whispered, her voice shaking with fear.
"Rumors are spreading, I'll find out more," keith muttered gently, as he hurried from the tent, moving towards abels voice outside.
Outside the tents, voices sharpened as people begin to band together, moving close to abel to hear what he has to say. "Where are the Sovereign's Guard?" Abel roared. "Where are the men who swore to protect this town?"
"True!" Some survivors cried.
Another man shouts back from the gathering crowd. "Lies abel! You blaspheme! Our Sovereign swore to protect us, he would never turn against his own!"
Abel's face grows stiff as he points toward the burning horizon. "He swore to protect us?! Then where is he?" Abel spat. "Where are his soldiers? Every week they march here to tax us, but on this very night, they vanish like ghosts!"
The gathering crowd roared with grieving voices.
A woman called out with a trembling voice, "Why would our sovereign turn his weapon on defenseless people? What could he gain from slaughtering his own?"
Then abel laughed mockingly.
"You know nothing of politics! Woman!" he barked. "
Those high nobles sit safe in their mansions, fighting for power. But it's always the common folk who suffer and bleed for their games!"
The survivors yelled with agreements. "Aye!" "He speaks truth!" Someone yells randomly from the crowd.
Then abel pressed on, his voice roaring over the quiet gathered crowd.
"We have all heard tales of the Heavens Blitz weapon in the wars fought beyond Asterra," he shouted.
"Bombs that scorched the earth and tore men apart. Isnt this familiar" He gestured at the blackened ruins around them, as people turned their grieving faces towards the charred ruins, their heads nodding as everything started making sense to them. "This is stronger, greater, it is fueled by the forbidden crystal, the white lumin!"
Cries of outrage rippled through the crowd, as people murmured and argued against theirseleves within the crowd.
"Do we call this coincidence?" Abel thundered, "that months the wardens published the news of a break into the Wardens' fortress, the very fortress where the white lumins are stored, then we witness this horror unleashed upon us?"
Gasps broke from every direction. As someone shouted, "He is sending a message!"
"Aye!" Abel voice yelled. "Mark my words, war is coming to Asterra, war within, and war from beyond!"
Olsmere erupted, grief turning to rage. Mothers clutched their children close. Men clenched their fists, as arguments brewed among the survivors. The hooded inciters stood from afar watching the members of olmsere, as they leave a faint smirk on their lips before vanishing into smoke.
Location: Town Nareth in the east.
In the southeast region of Asterra, town Nareth still burned feom Heaven's Blitz flames.
Only a handful of survivors remained, fleeing in ragged groups, as the fire devoured what was left of their homes.
Jori the bricklayer, had managed to lead some of the survivors of nareth away from the destruction, as they moved like nomads searching for safety.
A gear wagon driving slowly and creaking down the dusty road following behind them slowly, as their rescued belongings seated ontop of it.
At last, jori and the survivors stopped by a half-deserted suqare with an abandoned fountain seated in its middle. Mothers and children hugged each other tughtly, tending to each others gried, their clothes caked with ashes, their faces hollow with suffering.
Old men, followed behind as they all sit near around fountain catching their breath.
The gear-wagon creaks to a stop as its engines shut off.
The square they sat fell silent for a while, until jori and tomas, another bricklayer began to speak, while others leaned in, listening with weary eyes.
"I saw it with my own eyes," Tomas said, holding up his scorched sleeve for everyone to see. His voice trembled with rage.
"I saw Lord eryndors men and Lady Selene's followers marching toward the hills and forest side, moments before the blasts, and then the explosions came from their direction towards our town nareth"
Jori sat face blank with bulging eyes as his brain worked, while listening to tomas. "This is impossible, those fires, those winds… it is no doubt. We were attacked by Heaven's Blitz. And only one house owns that weapon, House Valesse, the house of our sovereign, Lord Eryndor." Jori says his shoulders collapsing with grief.
"This is crazy! I cannot process why lord eryndor would attack his own" Tomas spoke with quivering lips, his hands shaking as he stares into blank space.
"Eryndor!" An old man calls out with dusgust. "Always parading himself as pure," the man muttered bitterly. "We should've known better, lord eryndor is a sick man lust for power" the man's fists trembled as he spoke.
"I want justice on whoever is responsible!" Another weils, tears rolling down his cheeks "My daughter. My wife. Both scorched" He cries as he slams his fist into the fountains bricks, his hands shaking from grief.
Then an old woman chimed in, her hands lifted over her face and into the sky. Her voice broke as she wept.
"Lord Eryndor swore he would protect us," she cried. "But my husband is dead… my grandchildren are dead." Her pupils shook rapidly as she spoke with fear and grief "Take me instead! give them back!" She says as she sobs with intense grief.
"If lord eryndor is guilty, he must face justice." Says another cold, old and feeble man.
Some continued to cry and mourn, some uncertain of what to do next, however they all sat back taking their time to rest.
Location: Calensport, the capital of asterra.
Inside the sovereigns royal chambers, Lord Eryndor of House Valesse stirred awake, not from dreams, but from the relentless toll of bells in calensport and the murmurs pressing at his doors.
Idris, his whisperer and sworn messenger, was already at his side. He stood composed, but the feeling of unease showed clearly on his face.
"Your Grace… " Idris greeted, his voice soft but filled with urgency, "multiple regions of asterra have been struck. The towns and cities are restless, and we suspect foreign hands in this, yet… there is something else you must see."
Eryndor rose swiftly, knotting his robe with unsteady hands, his expression hardening as he paced towards the doors of his chambers.
"I slept through all the destruction? And no one thought it wise to wake their Sovereign?" Eryndor snapped softly, his eyes narrowing in annoyance at Idris
At the door of the sovereign chamber, loyal guards of Valesse lingered, their faces drawn pale.
"Fetch Lady Selene at once." Eryndor's voice rang out with command.