Story:At Fate's End/Chapter 1

Once again, Weslei's foot crushed sand and blood. A broken sword swayed weakly in his hand with every pained step that he took, its blade shattered down to the hilt and stained the same sickly crimson. In front of him a large twisted figure lay still and bloodied on the golden earth, desperately drinking in whatever air it could. Weslei reached a hesitant hand toward the pathetic sight and grasped a large splinter of steel embedded in the beast's scaled chest.

After countless slow and increasingly frantic heaves, he ripped it out from the Astross in a spray of red, the effort gifting him several new seeping cuts to decorate his hand. In response, the beast jolted back into consciousness as a horrible scream filled Weslei's ears. Its jaw lunged toward him in its pained seizures as Weslei stepped backward in surprise, wildly swinging the shard of metal. The two made contact, and the silver chunk sliced a large wound into the beast's neck. Its countless eyes drained of all colour as both combatants greeted the desert floor, a cloud of sand filling Weslei's lungs and stinging his eyes. His coughing subsided soon enough, though, and he again approached the hideous beast. Reduced to crawling, he began digging out whatever fragments of his weapon he could from the Astross's wounds with his bare fingers.

Once nightfall had finished its approach, Weslei abandoned the carrion and lumbered southwards toward the closest settlement, strength and determination having returned to his legs. The city of Wrangler, capital of Mustang, was cradled by tall stone walls in every direction to ward off the monstrous Astross that prowled the nation's deserts, and the city's scant few entrances lay beside gigantic torches that promised safety to those who dared brave the wilderness. He was relived when at last he reached one such beacon.

"You alright there, kid?" A guard stationed at the city entrance asked Weslei as he approached the clearing. Ignoring her, he pulled out a flask of liquid with a struggle that he then proceeded to tip over the fire's base, pouring barely a drop down onto it. The flames breathed and grew almost instantly, and Weslei turned to continue his pained march.

"Fine." Weslei finally spat back at the guard, stopping in front of her. He dropped his travel bags and satchels onto the sand to lift his wrecked weapon with his non-maimed hand in front of his face. "I just need this repaired."

"You look like you have more pressin' things to patch up than a sword, but alright..." She shrugged as she stepped aside. The sudden movement caused the carved out Astross eyes adorning her spear to suddenly blink into life and chaotically inspect the area, unnerving Weslei as he passed through the sand-swept arch and stepped into the city proper, a rustic array of buildings wood and brick. Torches stood at every other corner, keeping the merciless cold of the desert night at bay. Weslei found himself shivering anyway as he entered the first blacksmiths he saw.