Drollfall. This is the name of a Post-Disaster Imaginal World. It, a barren wasteland near the bottom of the Imaginal Realm hierarchy, is one where surviving Imaginals still struggle to see another day.

Said Imaginals are ones that can survive off the stale aether in the air. They live in small tribes, hidden away in caves and enclosures, praying that the strange monsters that roam the surface and drift through the skies do not find them.

Some brave souls, however, venture out to the surface. Some search for death, and others, for answers. Others--they roam, unsure of why it is they're propelled further in such dangerous circumstances.

Here in Drollfall, beneath the rusty skies filled with dust and debris, two cloaked Imaginals walk. At the lead is a tall Imaginal, one fighting the gusts, their slender fingers holding onto the part in their cloak. Three steps behind follows the second Imaginal. Short like a child and as light, this Imaginal has an easier time fighting the wind thanks to the one that goes before them.

These two have been crossing the wastes for many cycles, in search of something they could no longer see beyond the rusty skies...

..

.

Night has fallen, and the two sit around a campfire, hidden behind rocky outcroppings. The only sounds around them are the crackle of the fire as it burns fuel rocks and the whistle of the wind as it blows across rocks and through tunnels.

***

The tall Imaginal was still, their cloak so large their silhouette was still obscured. The tiny Imaginal, meanwhile, sat with their knees against their chest, white, dusty feet visible beneath their cloak.

The two sat in silence for an hour. And then, when the wind died just a little, one spoke.

"We'll find it..."

The small Imaginal shifted. They looked up and toward the tall Imaginal as they spoke.

"I'll get you home, okay? You shouldn't get stuck in this crapsack world... I'm sure your parents are looking for you too."

The tall one's voice was sweet, albeit a little rough. Their words reflected their inner feelings, but they were unused to having to speak so gently.

The fact bothered the tall one enough that they shifted in place.

"... Thank you..." whispered the small Imaginal, though, the other did not hear it...

..

.

Another day, another trek. The two Imaginals continued their journey. The tall Imaginal kept their eyes on the skies. They could still remember it--that light they once saw. If they could find that light once more, the little Imaginal behind them could escape.

The tall Imaginal looked over their shoulder at the tall spires in the distance.

"Nothing there..." the Imaginal whispered, almost sounding as if they were reassuring themselves.

The two continued their trek...

..

.

The two stood at the edge of a smoke-filled ravine. The tall Imaginal looked across the gap. They had to somehow cross the ravine and continue their heading, but the process would likely add many days to their travels.

"Curses... This is going to be harder than I thought--Hmm?"

The tall Imaginal looked down to see the small Imaginal holding their hand.

The tall Imaginal squeezed the tiny hand. "It's okay... You'll be okay."

"That's a bit hasty to say, isn't it, Imaginal?"

Chilly and piercing, every cell in the bodies of the Imaginals reacted to the voice that came from behind them. The small one's first instinct was to freeze and shake in terror, but the tall one--they turned on their heels--

"Get behind me!"

A dark, smoldering ball of black flame tore across the rust-colored atmosphere and ruptured upon touching ground, engulfing the two Imaginals in a mass of fire the size of a house.

Floating in the sky, and partially obscured by dust clouds, the one who attacked chuckled. "I'm still not used to this new lease on life."

Their features were further revealed. A young man, one with the face of a child, sneered at the flames. His hair was white, short, and messy, with his bangs clumsily falling over his brow. His blue eyes shimmered with dancing lights in contrast to the very dastardly flames that burned below him. His black cape fluttered despite the fact there was little wind, and his armor set that looked to be forged from the scales of a white and grey dragon occasionally twinkled. Though these visual detail seemed to be ones that would be at home on a hero, his smile made it unmistakable. This child was colder than the River Cocytus--his smile was all that needed to be observed.

He stuck out his hand and a single, armored finger. "I know you're still in there." He pointed his finger upward, and the flames below--they reacted. They flew into the air as if they had been peeled from the earth by an invisible force. They swirled in place, twenty feet above the ground, and revealed the two Imaginal who had withstood the attack.

"Oh, woooow, you're still so healthy!" The child grinned, revealing black canines among their white teeth. "I guess Imaginals really are built different... But what are you?"

"Hmph, funny. I want to know the same thing."

Down below, the tall Imaginal was revealed. A slender, long-legged, and a pale, pink-skinned, horned woman wearing practically nothing looked at the enemy with eyes that said she would fight. Her legs were thin and long, further supported by sharp cobalt heels that grew from her feet. All that covered her legs was the skirt divided into four segments and held up by the metal frame that sat on her hips. This was the only piece of clothing that sat on her body.

From her hips protruded a thin and dry whitish-blue branch. The material that made that branch covered her thin arms from fingertip to shoulder, her shoulders also sporting a thin branch. Each branch was lit, a pale blue flame burning at their ends. Her torso, thin and borderline malnourished, was covered by two-finger-thick streaks of the whitish-blue material that came from her arms. These streaks raced across her torso, just barely covering her sensitive spots with eye-catching but intricate patterns. Her chest was small, but her body was accentuated by those patterns. That tiny frame gave a certain charm to the delicate features above the neck. Her eyes glowed pink, her hair was black and framed the left side of her face, and the large, two-pronged, with pink jewels encrusted at their base and pointed backward, were the Imaginal's most intimidating feature.

Funnily enough, her horns were what the boy fixated on as he tried to answer her question. "Are you a demon?" he asked, placing his finger on his chin. "Horns are the symbol of the devil."

"Demons?" the Imaginal spat back as she further obscured the smaller Imaginal from the boy. "Now, those are just a myth. They're just something to blame for our troubles."

"Oh, that doesn't sound very nice--"

"Look around; this ain't a nice world," the Imaginal replied.

And so, two more beings who should never have met locked eyes. The battle that would lead to a long, miserable war was now underway...