The past two years had passed in a blur for Aleksandr. The disbandment of the Holy Knights, the wars, were not as much climactic events to him as they were repressed memories. He had joined the Holy Knights following his family, his disdain for Illumin (and other Gods) had only grown in magnitude, and his psyche reflected that. He had no patience for holy pursuits. Earlier he had been an avid smoker, largely to counter stress, he had stopped smoking after a medical scare and was now clean for the past two years, and he aimed to keep it that way.

He had been a temporary resident of Orchidia for an outlandish amount of time, and had purposefully stayed away from any and all avoidable action. It was not out of cowardice, but apathy. He had a general disinterest in combat, and life, in general. In the past he had been a rather chiseled and muscular man, his body had declined as well. He was noticeably less muscular now, but still more so than the average person. Orchidia was now not much more than a ruin, and while it had never really never mattered to Aleksandr in the past, over time he felt a constantly growing need of Escape. But where to? He felt the need of a new environment. 'Hargeon, maybe?' he thought. Hargeon was a coastal city, moist and warm, and it was summer. He had never liked summers or sticky environments, as he belonged to the Frost. However, Hargeon was also a blooming and burgeoning city, which meant new opportunities lied in wait.

He had considered it. Perhaps it would be wise to go to Hargeon, for he was in dire need of new opportunities, and the 'new environment' he so desperately sought. What could be newer than the sultry discomfort of a Port City? (In summer, no less.) His decline had been steep, and while he had hoped his climb would be steeper, he knew better. Hope was a fickle thing. His 'rise' would be hard-fought, and gradual. He had heard people say for all his life that great things take time. It had always sounded like a pretentious statement, but now it had new meaning. He had been chasing an identity for his twenty-five years of existence, he had tried to follow in the footsteps of his family, but he had neglected and failed in his responsibilities.

Perhaps that life really never was for him, he had always felt some discomfort with his duties. It seemed practical of him to begin the search for his own place in the world, his own identity. He had no knowledge of where his family was, and at this moment, it didn't concern him. They were adept at taking care of themselves, more so than him. The distant past, and his childhood now seemed more like a fever dream than actual affairs. He did not lend these any significance now, for they were now ghosts of the past, and it hurt more to visit and confront them than to disregard them. He had no intentions of letting his thirst for revenge consume him. This was to new beginnings, and to think of these events would be imparting them more thought and time than he deemed appropriate, and it was time that could be better used in pursuit of more useful goals, such as earning well-needed money.

He collected his thoughts, and set out for Hargeon before the sun rose. It would be nice of him to reach the city as early as possible, for he would be able get an ideal amount of rest, and start to get his life in order. Who knew what adventures awaited him? He had never been to Hargeon, or if he had, he had no recollection of it. He would be experiencing the town anew, and despite his dislike for the climate he was for the first time in a long time, excited. He was traveling on foot, and he didn't mind it, as he would be able to focus better on the landscapes lying further on his route, even though he might later experience a foot ache. He had packed his bags with all the clothes and belongings that he still possessed, and had put on a simple attire consisting of a comfortable t-shirt and sweat-pants. It would be hard to carry all these bags across the country to Hargeon, but he really had no other choice. He could take breaks. He stopped once along the way, taking refuge under the shade of a tree from the afternoon heat and had a bite. He was drenched in sweat, and would probably look like a homeless laborer when he will arrive in Hargeon.

He reached Hargeon in the eve, and checked in to a fairly mid-range hotel. As soon as he put down the luggage, he felt an irresistible urge to drop a deuce and obliged.

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