The Empire was on the move. Being spring, the Empire would normally have been gripped by new hopes and possibilities: really, there should have been celebrations to do with the annual prosperity festivel.
In Gasperade, the Air Force was refueling and preparing to fly further northwards in order to set up a new outpost in the El'Fijh mountains, home to both Ice & Air elves. Air ships, loaded with troops, supplies and warmachines were ready to move out, and everyone was on full alert. The festivel there was being heavily monitored by the military, and no one could really enjoy themselves fully.
In Zenith, it was a fairly ordinary day for the people living there, though recently the army had been using the city as a base of operations for some sort of project further west, just past the border. The ancient temple at the heart of the city was currently being used to store weapons, unfortunately, and thus was not available for celebrations.
And in Magnum, people were trying to go about their daily lives, trying to have fun and focus on the festivel, but no one could really shake a continuous feeling that 'something is going to go wrong'. The streets were punctuated with various tunes, played over loud speakers.
Down one small street, in a comparatively rather high-end building, young 'prince' Fylel was busy playing chess, against a rather distraught butler.
With a slight smirk, he brought his rook to capture the butler's bishop, leaving two options left: move his queen to protect his king, or capture the rook. Either way, the game would be over in exactly two moves.
"Hmm... sir, it appears I have already lost." said the butler, his wrinkled brow seeming to double in wrinkly-ness from concentration.
"Indeed," replied Fylel, brushing aside a whiff of brown hair from his eyes and placing the pieces back in their starting positions.
"Fancy a rematch, Alfred? Heh, I'm sure you'll win this time. I'll even let you play white."
"No sir, it's fine. I really should return to serving your mother, shouldn't I?"
Fylel frowned slightly, before then nodding in response. Yes, you really ought to, she mustn't be left alone to long...
"Very well then, sir." And with a bow, the aging butler was gone from the room.
For a few minutes, the prince merely sat there, in his wide arm chair in the library. Looking out of the window, it was quite a nice day: the sun was shining, and it was filtering down through the window & the curtains, and for a moment he was sure he could see tiny fragments of every colour, refracting through the glass. With another smile, he decided it'd be a good idea to leave.
I haven't been out in a while: I really ought to get some exercise and fresh air, he thought, and with that he went to the door, not bothering to grab his coat, and was gone.
His feet clacked against the dull red pavement as he walked through long and twisting streets, the various apartments and occasionally the odd detached house loomed around and above him. The streets were mostly empty, save a couple of soldiers in plate armour on patrol, busily discussing something or other.
Eventually he found himself at something a dead end.
That's... odd. I don't remember this place, he thought, unsure why he wouldn't recognize part of the city only a few streets away from his own home.
It was derelict and probably empty: the windows were smashed or crudely done up with planks of wood, and the door was half broken in. Dust layered everything, and the whole building was cracked and decaying.
For a moment, he thought about just ignoring it and heading back the way he'd come. But then he felt something inside. He wasn't sure, but he felt, somewhere inside, that he ought to take a look.