The Vesteran Empire seethed silently with discontent.
The Royal Family watched helplessly as control of their birthright slipped away between their fingers like grains of sand. Rebellion sparked across the Northern Provinces while the Lords of the South ruled as absolute sovereigns in all but name.
The Church of Ascension owned the people body and soul, isolating the Council and Court to their lavish cages devoid of influence or power, playing them against each other like pieces on a broken board.
In such uneasy time people turned to myths and legends for the comfort of distraction. Rumours of living Saints walking mortal's paths burned wild through the field of commoner gossip, disregarded by many and abhorred by others of the faith, yet burned bright they did still, fueled by the wind of straining tension building inevitably toward a terrible finality.
The light of hope resided within those most unlikely.