From Dust we've come, and to Dust we'll return. The essence of life given form, mankind has lived too long in the light. What we view as darkness is merely a glimpse of the most ancient shadows that dwell over us. We carry a torch and pretend that it will burn forever, when in reality it shall always flicker into ash... A bleak wind sweeps down from the mountains, tainting the air as it blows. It flies over Vale, waking children from their slumber. Dust darkens as it tastes the foul air, and light extinguishes as it consumes it. Up into the sky it flies, and it rides alongside an airship cruising towards a remote mountain range. At the base of the great rock, both ship and air slow to a stop. The future warriors that leave the ship taste the foul wind, and grimace. They don't understand the feeling, but it gnaws at an ancient part of their minds. Their sense of evil. But it is not they that the wind seeks. It wraps itself around four individuals in particular. It marks them, and caresses them. It knows what they'll become as they grow to become Hunters. And it knows what they'll do when they finally reach their goal.