The pale moon hung its head blissfully over the cityscape. It was doomed to light up the night sky for eternity, for the sun of the world had tipped and shied away. Now, naught but rain and time passed within the sky’s boundaries. And indeed, it did rain, much more than it ever should have.

A man, dark and dim in his appearance, braved the cold air that night. Others, friends and family, he had left behind. Why, he thought. Why did I leave?

The skyscrapers of silver and onyx reached immeasurable heights. Antennas shot out of them like beacons of fake light. Of course, light was a blessing that was hard to find within the gloominess of this place. The candles trying to hide behind windows slowly flickered out as he, the man, walked by.

Am I a prince, he mused, or am I a pawn? Destined to live my life under other men’s orders? No. However, life cannot be trusted to nothing but defiance. How am I to serve my people, when I am foreshadowed, always shadowed, by someone higher than myself?

Briskly, he took a gloved hand covered with callused bruises and brushed his wild hair aside. Panic, silence, mystery; here in the mid-city fountains, each of these rampant things ruled. A goddess, surrounded by her angels, held an outstretched pitcher that flowed pure waters. Gaia was her name, and her face also stood within the city’s cathedral.

Darkness consumed Storm, for that was the man’s name. A chilling wind far colder and sharper than was expected that evening rolled over his exposed skin. Rain is coming, he thought. It was thick in the air, that familiar humid smell. Donning a cloak, Storm continued his wayward trek through the streets, ever lost to the rest of the world and sometimes, even to himself.