The Pyre Sands In the hundred-fifty-seventh year of the Marxou Congress, the known world consisted of seven continents;the names of which are unimportant at this juncture. In the vast oceanic expanse that encompassed these land masses, no voyage had ever returned from beyond the swells and squalls of that endless abyss. The furthest ship out ever to return home had only to report that the waters were no less shy than two of the largest crossings between shores. It was this particular year that expansion had been proclaimed "a necessity" by the cooperative assembly of the ruling governments. Countless ships set forth sail in every direction; their crews made of representatives from every walk of life. Among these passengers were pilgrims, criminals, admirals, explorers, political exiles, and more than the occasional treasure hunter, led on by the tale of wealth waiting on distant shores. For now it only matters, that of the vast armada that dare sail out on the black abyss of the Reliad Expanse, the ship Aether Wing would arrive on a shore alien to them. On the sixty-seventh night of its voyage, the Aether Wing caught wind, the secure line on the main mast had broken open; the ship was steering itself through the intense storm that had cursed their lives for three days hence. Henchmen scrambled to cut off the sail to relieve the helm, only not in time to prevent a collision course with the rogue wave; one that would be referred to by the survivors as the 'swell sky'. Cresting waves further above their heads than thought possible, few had little time to brace themselves as the first drops hit the deck, torrents of water that broke through both mast and bone. The most rugged of men, trapped in the hull of ship, could recognize the ships third roll before he went under. The rays of dawn brought the first sight of land beyond the Reliad Expanse, even though it came from the battered remnants of a once proud vessel. The shattered hull, and countless fragments of cargo and debris, rolled themselves onto the sand, landing with a dampened thud before finally resting still in the sand. Bodies, many yet none so much as had set sail at the beginning of the trip, came to shore as they clung to life in whatever form of buoyancy it took. As luck would have it, some would pull through. Others would lose life on that very shore, unconscious as they drowned. The survivors of the Aether Wing had been accepted to the burning terra known as The Pyre Sands. Maybe it had been the intense heat of the sands that coaxed life back into those battered bodies, the first survivor began to stir.