During the past five years, all kinds of criminals have been sentenced to death. Yet within the Veil… many of them found something unexpected — a second chance at life.
Right at the edge of the Veil, bathed in its ever-shifting, shimmering colors, lies a city long forgotten by time.
The ruins of an ancient metropolis, said to have been built before the Dawn Era. From a distance, it resembles a forest of towering gray structures, each one worn by centuries of neglect. The buildings were made from a material no one could identify... and no one knew how they were ever constructed.
And yet, this cold and desolate place had become something strange — something sacred.
A home for the banished. A haven for the forsaken. The city at the edge of the known world. The City of Beginnings.
Without a government or any law enforcement, the city operated purely based on trust and brotherhood.
If you think the city is full of robbers and crime, you're completely mistaken...
There are no robberies, murders, or any other crimes within the city. In fact, the city is actually more peaceful than the ones outside of the Veil, in Mytherra.
The only drawback is the lack of a formal currency and the reliance on a barter system. Which is also one of the reasons Alger was stuck hunting beasts for a living...
—————
A young man with dark hair and scars all over his face slowly walked in the center of a busy street. He was wearing an old, rugged cloak, which was torn at the edges.
The street was well illuminated by lamps on either side. Tall buildings lined each side of the road.
Technically, each of these tall, gray structures could house hundreds of people, if not thousands, but who would want to climb 10 whole stories just to reach their home? And besides, there were only a few thousand people in the city, enough for everyone to get a building of their own.
The street Alger was walking on was located near the edges of the city, and hence the structures here weren't as massive as the behemoths located near the interior.
Everyone on the street was watching Alger. He could hear all kinds of murmurs and whispers about him...
After all, he was famous. Even if it was in a bad way, he was still known.
"Hey, is that him?" A man spoke softly.
"Yes! Terrible scars on his face, and look at those burns..."
"It's definitely him!"
"It's the Walking Corpse! It's my first time seeing him..."
During the first few days of being in the city, Alger couldn't find any work to do. Left with only a single choice, he was forced to hunt for beasts and sell their corpses for a living. But every time Alger returned to the city, he would be covered in scars and bruises.
At first, when people noticed his calm look, even with all of those terrible wounds, they thought he was a brave man. Someone for whom pain was an old friend.
But as time went by, people finally understood the truth behind his calm look...
Alger was born with a disease — or rather a disability. Simply put, Alger can't feel any physical pain. No matter how terribly he is hurt, he feels nothing...
When people learned about this, they just saw it as cheating. An advantage most would dream of having. So the image of Alger most had formed in their minds turned out to be nothing but a fake front. Alger was just pretending to be brave.
And since then, everyone started calling him 'The Walking Corpse'...
'When I find the damn person who gave me that name... I'm going to kill them, slowly and painfully, I'll make sure every cell in their body regrets their actions.' He thought to himself, with a dark grin on his face.
'I'm not a damn corpse. I'm still very much alive... barely, maybe — but still alive.'
After walking for a few minutes, Alger stopped and turned. He entered a small shop, built on the first floor of a two-story building.
It was a simple shop, a hanging leather cloth for a door.
Alger walked inside the warm and well-illuminated place.
All kinds of items were neatly arranged on wooden shelves on both sides, ranging from odd things like rabbit eyes to practical items such as rugs and jackets. But Alger wasn't here to buy, nor could he afford things like these...
Alger walked up to the counter, which was on the far end of the store. An old man wearing glasses was standing there, behind the wooden desk.
The old man looked up at him with a subtle frown and said.
"Alger?" the man looked at his watch and said, "What are you doing here at this time? I thought you won't come today."
Alger didn't respond. He just raised his arm on the counter and said:
"Dead Fox"
Right as he said that, the corpse of a beast, a meter big, slowly started to appear on the counter. Layer by Layer, it built itself from thin air, starting from the bones and ending at its scorched skin.
The old man was surprised; he tried to hide it, but it was clearly visible on his face.
And after a moment of observing the corpse, with his mouth open, the old man finally spoke up.
"A-An Inferno Fox? You've outdone yourself, Alger. I never saw you as the one who'd fight creatures stronger than himself. These things are really hard to find, and even harder to kill. This is the first time I'm seeing one in a while..."
After a pause, the man added:
"So... what do you want?"
Alger thought for a bit and said,
"Clothes, food, water, and a sword..."
—————
After the barter with the shopkeeper, Alger left the shop. He couldn't get a weapon, but he got medicine for the countless burns on his body... not that he's going to feel anything different after applying it.
He started to walk west. Towards the most outer regions of the city, it was the place where Alger's home was.
It took him 3 hours to reach the city and since his home was located practically out of the city, it took him another hour to reach there.
Ignoring all the stray glances he got along the way, after walking for around an hour, he reached the place.
A small single-story building, alone and isolated from the rest. It stood at the westernmost point in the city. Too close to the Veil for anybody to want to live here. The streets were dark and cold. The only light that reached the region was either from the stars, the Veil, or the Beacon...
When Alger stood in front of his home, he noticed something different. He could see light escaping from the edges of the cloth that hung at the front door.
Someone else might've assumed it was a break-in. But within the Veil, crime was rare — most people kept to themselves. And even if someone did want to steal, why target him? Alger barely made enough to survive. There were far wealthier targets deeper in the inner sanctums.
Alger pushed the old leather cloth and stepped inside the cold room.
The interior of the structure consisted of a single room... Empty and desolate, this was the place Alger called home...
On the far end of the monotone room, there lay four things... The only four things Alger owned.
A thin mat he called his bed, A small wooden table he used for practically anything that required a table, A pile of ashes he used as a stove. And a lamp... a single lamp that ran on Elemental Ore.
A man stood there in front of the lamp.
"Damn it, how the hell does this thing turn off?" The man spoke faintly.
But when he heard someone step in, he slowly turned around.
A young man with long, snow-white hair looked towards Alger. His skin was pale, a perfect complement to his light hair. His eyes were a soothing, soft shade of gray, giving him a calm look. He wore a regal outfit, primarily white and deep blue, adorned with intricate gold accents.
"Alger! My dear friend! It's been a while, hasn't it?" He laughed softly.
Alger just remained silent and quietly stared at him.
'That's just great... this guy again.'
"What? You aren't going to say hi, Alger?"
After walking a bit closer, Alger finally spoke,
"Ronan... what brings you here?"
"What? I can't visit a friend?" Ronan said with exaggerated innocence.
"Oh, please. You and I both know you're here because you want something."
Ronan smiled,
"Well, you're wrong." He paused.
"I'm here to tell you that I've found a way to escape the Veil..."