Nova and the 100-year march

CHAPTER ONE, VOLUME 1, THE FIRST CYCLE: LOST IN MARCH

A hundred years ago, the first purge left the remnants of Indoria scattered across the realm. Hunted and threatened, with no place to call home, no refuge, no hope. The stars fell from the sky, souls buried in shadows, and life forfeited. Hopeless, weak, and destroyed, the people felt. The shadows grew stronger, fed on fear, lurking at dawn and hunting at night. Nude open skies, with no stars and no light.

The legend says the stars are destined to be reborn. Indoria, the realm of stars, can never die. The legend says stars, and lives are bound to skies. Follow the stars, and you shall prevail. The legend says stars,when all poor souls are dead, one will prevail and one shall have the eternal glory, and its legacy, unchained. 

Follow the stars, and you shall prevail. Legends, and old-timers tales; that's what people say nowadays. A hundred years of fear can change a person's mind. And now, the odds are not in the legends' favor, or is it really?

Far in a deserted, uninhabited land, an old-timer and a lad march on. The old one is sick, the lad pushing the cart, and the stars guide the march through a forsaken venture. A little hope, even fewer supplies. The lad is desperate, and the old one follows the stars. "That's what he said to me, what he taught me. Legends say the stars mirror life. Life resides within the skies. Stars are tokens for life, a cast of light to guide all lives."

The lad's desperate, " I can feel the warm breeze at last, but I fear that all these sacrifices and burdens would turn into ashes and become forsaken", he said while helping the old one sit. "why would you say that son, I'm old and rusty; I'm only gonna get so far yes, but you still have more to see, and more to live for " he said. "The others left, you know, all of them. Grew desperate, and got lost. The supplies were not fair to us too, they said.

They chose perishing over fighting for food, kept a hold of their pride. They did not know if there would be an end to this long march through this desert, so they chose to become guests to Almeria's dust and mist and let it decide for them, little did they know or desperate they were, this land favors no one. They gave up on themselves, yet believed, hoped that their youngest may carry the light again, honor their memories, and take it to a new dawn, a new world if he ever survived."

The lad sat beside the old one, remembering the moment he woke up, the moment he felt vulnerable and lost, yet found the old man guiding the march. "You were unconscious, son," the old one said. "Seven fortnights swiftly passed, you were cold and tiny, on the verge of death, we thought you wouldn't live too long to talk or remember. But we kept faith in you, Nova the youngest, the last son, the last survivor. I'm not going to last much longer. I'm an old man, wounded, heart heart, and soul, deemed to die here for sur."

"Quit it," the lad said, "we're both alike, survivors. We will find a way through; we will live to do so. I taught you well enough, son. Reading and writing, listening, did what I had to do, just like I was told to do. I couldn't be a parent, but at least I was a teacher  to you." The lad said, "You're wasting much energy, old man. I just told you we are close they've told us to follow the path the stars draw with a light worm breeze, I can sense it, see it, a new life, new memories, to hold onto the old ones. I will honor the memories of those who helped us. "Will you honor mine, lad?" The old one said and what else would it feel like less than a  farewell, and answered the call." Of course, I will, we will. The stars will guide us both, just like you said to me, just like you taught me."

"it is not I who needs guidance, son, it's you who needs it. Know your worth and follow the light the stars casts. It'll come to you in a time of need. Don't give up on your life, on this world. Remember your origins, the people who trusted you, and traded their lives for yours whenever you feel down. They were all believers like me, but you are more than that, son. You are a survivor, and a son of glorious days to come, and I'm just a shard of old times" the old one said, "Now I can rest, our people can rest. You lived, you survived. Now go reach the stars, Nova, go be the star who casts light. Be the last star to never stop, to never perish, to never die."

A heavy burden he became, the old man realized he was unfit a venture and no longer had a goal to live up to, it was time for farewell. But how could he tell the young lad of his yet-to-come plan, desert him? Exhausted they were, midlest of  Almeria, the deserted dreamland. The lad set up the camp and into the stars' depth they sat.

when the lad fell asleep, the stale old man decides to takes on his new venture,just like their companions, dust and mist seemed a good custodian for a perished man.it had to be done, supplies were shrinking. By that time, the odds were shrinking to one as well, a certainty of death. Realizing the situation, the old one sneaks out of camp and into Almeria's mist and sand. The lad felt an absence of scent, without a farewell, the old one vanished as well, the mist disappeared, a specter is all that's left.

Left alone, the lad starts moving on,he knows a farwell is no good choice for a last say or a Parting confab. toward the unknown, grieving in silence, appreciating his companion's bet, to honor it, he must survive, he hoped, he did. Seven nights, supplies lasted. The lad with no help, losing strength, fainted to the ground. Before his eyes were shut, and felt the warm breeze again, he saw a blue flame. "Am I hallucinating?" he said. The lad fell.