Astaria, 1362, Present Time
 

 

     The moon shone full and bright and cast an eerie glow over the barren earth as a blood piercing scream shrieked over the wasteland. Far off to the Northeast of Astaria, hidden amongst the dunes of glittering sand, sat a small, long forgotten bunker. The glittering sand, like tiny shards of rainbow hued glass, swirled around the bunker's entrance, sending tiny razor-edged particles blowing across the desert floor. The air was thick with the acrid smell of ozone and decay, and the wind howled through the cracks in the bunker's walls like a chorus of restless spirits. Inside, two figures huddled together on a bed made of patchwork pillows and mended blankets nestled amongst each other in a corner on the floor, their faces illuminated only by the faint glow of a small flickering candle.

 

     The air was stale and heavy, thick with the scent of their sweat and the fear that clung to the bunker's walls like a damp shroud. But amidst the starkness of the desolate surroundings, a glimmer of beauty and wonder had been crafted by the larger figure's own hands. The walls, once barren and gray, now danced with a kaleidoscope of colors when the lighting was just right, as vibrant as the stars that twinkled in the sky at night.

 

     Celestial motifs, lovingly collected and scavenged from across the wasteland, adorned the bunker's walls. Crystals and stars gently swayed as they hung from the ceiling, strung with care so that the gentle breeze from between the cracks in the old cement walls would catch them and make a gentle tinkling sound as they swayed back and forth. A delicate filigree of silver and gold, blue and yellow, etched with intricate patterns of suns and moons, glistened in the candlelight. A stained glass window, salvaged from a long-abandoned cathedral, cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the floor. There was a small, ornate music box, its mechanisms long silenced by the passage of time, atop a dusty shelf, its delicate ballerina frozen in perpetual dance, gazing down at the Beasts as they lived their daily lives.

 

     These treasures, gathered from the ruins of civilization, had become a testament to Magda's prowess as a scavenger and survivor. They told the story of her journeys through the wasteland, where she had braved the dangers of radiation-scarred landscapes and marauding gangs to bring back these small wonders to her bunker for her and her small daughter to enjoy. The screams outside grew louder, more urgent, as if the creatures that made them were trying to summon something from beyond the ruins of their shattered world. The wind buffeted the bunker's walls, making the metal creak and groan like a living thing. The two figures clung to each other, their eyes fixed on the candle's flame as if it were their only lifeline.

 

     Donut trembled within her mother's arms, fearing the creatures despite knowing that like any other night, she was safe within Magda's arms. As she gazed upon her collection, Magda's eyes sparkled with a sense of pride and accomplishment. She had created a sanctuary within these cold, dark walls, a place where beauty and wonder could still be found in a world that had been ravaged by destruction. And as she settled in for the night, surrounded by her treasures, she felt a sense of comfort and security that only came from knowing that she was safe within her own private universe. Magda stroked her daughter's hair and hushed her as the Youngling let out a small whimper. The monsters scared her, and even after five long years of hearing their screams, the night always terrified her. Magda's hideaway was small but safe - she made sure to secure the best fortress in the area for herself and her child.

 

     As Magda's fingers stroked her daughter's hair, Donut's trembling subsided, and she nuzzled closer to her mother's warmth. The young girl's eyes, like two shining stars, gazed up at Magda's face, seeking reassurance that the monsters outside couldn't harm them. Magda's own eyes, filled with a deep love and concern, met her daughter's gaze, and she whispered softly, "Shh, little one. Mama's here. You're safe."

 

     The monsters outside continued their keening howls, joining in with the wind to create a haunting symphony that played out the same every night. The creatures of Astaria knew the routine - keep quiet and hidden until daylight, and then watch out for monsters of a completely different kind - each other. Magda whispered softly to Donut, assuring her once again that they were safe. Donut clung to her mother, her small paws gripping onto Magda's shirt as she buried her face into her chest, seeking comfort in the familiar scent of Magda's fur. Magda's heart ached for her daughter.

 

     She wished she could do more to shield Donut from the horrors of their world, but she knew that that was impossible. No matter which corner of Astaria she chose to drag her child to, there would be more of the same waiting for them - natural disaster, thieves, demons and humans, though the latter was the least of Magda's concerns.

 

     Magda knew that the moment was only temporary, and soon she would need to leave Donut alone in the shack again. Their supplies were getting low, and Donut was still too young to travel away from safety for longer than the day was light, though Magda wouldn't even consider bringing her daughter outside either way. Donut could glimpse the outside and touch the glitter sand from a small wired in section at the back of the bunker, but she had never stepped foot beyond the single door that served as both entrance and exit. As the night wore on, Magda's gentle whispers and the soothing scent of her fur seemed to calm Donut's fears, but Magda's own heart was heavy with the weight of their reality. She knew that the world outside was a cruel and unforgiving place, where the strong preyed on the weak, and survival was a constant struggle.

 

     The creatures of Astaria, as their world was known, were a diverse and often brutal bunch. There were the humans, who had long since abandoned their cities and returned to the wild, forced to adapt to a harsh environment where every day was a fight for survival. Then there were the demons, creatures from another realm that had been drawn to the world's energy and chaos after the Tear formed in the sky. And of course, there were the natural disasters that plagued the land - earthquakes, storms, and fires that could destroy everything in their path - a testament to the wrath of Ceres, the spirit of Astaria herself. But, for the night, Magda would not worry her daughter. She held her tighter and closed her eyes, and eventually the two Beasts drifted off into a light, restless sleep. The night passed slowly, and every so often Magda would roll her bloodshot eyes open and peer around the shack, making sure all was secure. Magda kept a watchful eye on her sleeping daughter, her own exhaustion continuously threatening to pull her into a deep sleep she could not afford to succumb to.

 

     When daylight began to creep over the horizon, Magda gently eased herself from Donut's grip, careful not to wake her. She moved silently around the small shack, gathered what little supplies they had left and prepared to venture out into the unforgiving landscape of Astaria. She paused at the makeshift dress form she used for most of her creations and placed her hand gently against the blank face that stared back at her. As she always did before venturing out into the wastes, Magda said a small prayer to her mother and father and then turned to gaze down at the small sleeping child on the floor. With one last look at Donut, who was nestled peacefully amidst the piles of fabric and pillows upon the floor, Magda took a deep breath and turned and opened the door gently. The crack of bright morning light was a stark contrast to the darkness of the night, and Magda's eyes adjusted slowly to the new surroundings. She took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill her lungs, and gazed out at the wasteland beyond their shack. Her vision cleared and the landscape stretched out before her, a barren expanse of dusty terrain, cracked earth, and twisted metal dotting the distance. The ruins of what once had been great cities lay scattered, a testament to the devastation that had ravaged the world. Magda's gaze was drawn to the South, where the distant silhouette of a mountain range loomed. She knew that there were rumors of all sorts of dangers out that way, and she skirted far around that area as she traveled.

 

     Magda knew she had to move quickly. The nearest Beast-friendly trading post, Breaker's, was miles to the Southwest, and she could only move while the sun's light was in the sky. Magda pulled the shawl closer around her face and thought about the the world she had brought Donut into as she walked. The reflection of the sun off of the glitter desert was blinding, and Magda focused on step after step as she so desperately wished she had more water on her. She could feel the dryness in her pawpads under her leather wraps as the sunlight reflected off of the sandy glitter around her and evaporated all moisture from the air. Magda thought of the contrast between the colorful sand and the living plants of the Emerald Forest far the West. She had heard rumors of what life was like in the forest, but she had never traveled that far to see the green trees for herself. The forests were told to be worse than the open land, with many places for thieves and creatures and Demons alike to hide and lie in wait of ambush. To the East lay another forest, but all of the creatures of Astaria avoided this land, for those tress were full of dark spirits and monsters waiting to snatch even the toughest Raider. Those who entered were often never seen again, and if they did manage to come back, they were forever changed in various ways.

 

     One foot in front of the other, Magda continued on. On her back was a large canvas pack filled with beautiful dresses and scarves that she herself had made from salvaged fabric and cloth that she carefully and lovingly hand stitched together. With each stitch of her clothing when she worked, Magda thought of her own mother and a time that seemed so long ago, when they were still together ans safe and contained, stitching side by side. She knew with her quality of stitch work, her clothing would fetch a good price in trade if the right travelers were around.

 

     Fashion was a vital part of Astarian culture, as way for individuals to express themselves in a world that often stripped them of their humanity. The Astarians embraced bold colors, intricate patterns, and luxurious fabrics, using clothing as a form of armor against the harsh realities of their world. Magda had always been skilled with a needle and thread, turning simple scraps of fabric into works of art that caught the eye of many in the trading post.

 

     The sudden screech of metal rending metal snapped Magda out of her thoughts. She let out a breath of air she didn't realize she was holding and looked up. She adjusted the strap on the canvas bag. Before her, towering over the edge of the horizon, sat the Scrapyard. Here, Breaker and his crew worked hard year round at salvaging as much of the busted machinery and broken metal as they could find from the desert and turn it all into something useful again. Much of the knowledge and secrets of the old technology was lost to both the Beasts and the humans of Astaria, but Breaker worked diligently in selecting his inner circle to do their part and bring something good to the wasteland.

 

     As Magda entered the marketplace, the sounds and smells of the Scrapyard enveloped her. The air was thick with the tang of smoke and grease, and the smell of fresh bread wafted from the nearby bakery. The crowd was a chaotic mix of Beasts of every hue and shape, all haggling and bartering over goods and services. Magda's eyes scanned the stalls, taking in the array of wares on offer. There were vendors selling everything from rare spices to intricately crafted weapons, and even a few offering strange and exotic services. Magda finally reached her destination - a section of the marketplace where merchants sold fine clothing and accessories. A cacophony of voices and colors assaulted her senses. She made her way through the crowds, the sounds of bargaining and laughter filling the air. Magda paused in a quite alcove between two beat up steel vehicle frames and reached into her pack. She pulled out a few pieces of clothing and took a moment to tuck the articles into various pockets and arrange them in a way so that her whole bag seemed to be stitched together from the different fabrics, all of the colors and textures meshing together to create a lumbering velvety display of shapes and patterns as she marched down the center pathway.

 

     The traders eyed her carefully, their eyes lingering on the clothing she carried with a mix of curiosity and desire. Magda knew she had something valuable to offer, something that would fetch a high price in a world where fashion was coveted. Here Magda felt safe and knowledgeable about something in the world. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin just a bit higher, transforming into something completely different than the shy, mistrustful woman she had been moments earlier. She locked eyes with an elaborately bejeweled indigo Beast pacing around a stall adorned with shimmering scarves and sparkling accessories, and approached him. The Trader Beast's stall was adorned with an array of sparkling jewels and exotic textiles, and his sharp gaze fixated on Magda's unique creations.

 

     "Greetings, traveler. You may call me Aldar. What fine wares do you bring to my humble stall?" the trader asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he eyed the intricately embroidered clothing she carried. He clicked his great beak once as he assessed what he saw.

 

     Magda smiled warmly, laying out her garments on a nearby table for the trader to inspect. "Greetings Aldar. I am Siera." The lie came smoothly off of her tongue, as if it had been rehearsed in private. The name felt right to her after so many times. "I bring you creations of my own making, stitched with care and woven with the threads of Astaria," she replied, her voice steady and confident despite the nervous fluttering in her chest. The trader's eyes widened in appreciation as he ran his fingers over the delicate stitching, a look of admiration crossing his face. "These are truly remarkable, a blend of artistry and craftsmanship unlike anything I've seen before," he uttered, his tone sincere. The feathers running down his great head rippled as he huffed in satisfaction. He ran his talons over the shades of gold, blue, burgundy and emerald green that lay before him.

 

     Magda dipped her head.

 

     "Thank you, sir. My mother taught me her skill well," she said softly. Her fingers gently brushed the edge of a dress, and then she went back to her negotiations. A brief exchange of bargaining ensued, the trader offering a selection of goods in exchange for Magda's exquisite clothing. Magda carefully considered each item, weighing their worth against the needs of herself and her daughter. "I will require provisions for my journey home, food and water to sustain us in the days ahead," Magda stated firmly, her gaze unwavering as she negotiated with the trader. "And, if at all possible, medicine for fever." The trader nodded in agreement, a glint of respect in his eyes as he acknowledged Magda's shrewd business acumen.

 

     The goods swapped hands and Magda carefully filled her pack with her new provisions. Inwardly, she cursed to herself even as she celebrated, as she knew her next journey was going to be even greater. This was the last batch of proper clothing she had prepared, and she would need to venture further into the ruins of the old cities for new materials the next time around. She carefully counted out her earnings and set aside one container of water for the return journey home. She thanked the Bird Beast for his time and turned to exit the stall. As she stepped back out into the sunlight, she fumbled with the cap of the container in her hands. She tipped her head back and savored the wetness of the water on her lips, but was startled out of her reverie a moment later by a huge paw placed onto her shoulder. She turned, eyes wide, to see a familiar face.

 

     "Breaker!" Magda said warmly, happy to see her old friend. Breaker's rugged face creased into a warm smile as he gazed at Magda, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was obviously very pleased to see the Wolf Beast standing before him. His pointed ears leaned forward as he placed an arm around his old friend briefly in a loose hug.

 

     "Siera," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "I've been looking for you. I saw you passing through from above and I had to catch you before you left." He nodded towards the market, his gaze flicking over the bustling stalls. "I've got some news that might interest you." Magda's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned in closer as Breaker continued. "I've received a message from the Scrapyard Council, and they're looking for someone with your skills. They're willing to pay top dollar for a new batch of uniforms, and continued business, but it would require you taking up permanent residence here at the Scrapyard to take over other aspects of running the Scrapyard." Magda's eyes widened in surprise, and Breaker nodded. "Yes, it's a big deal. The Council's been looking for ways to improve their reputation, and Vespera thinks your unique style could be just what they need."

 

     Magda hesitated, mulling over the pros and cons of this offer. She had grown attached to her private life in the bunker, and yes, the thought of venturing further into the ruins was daunting. But the prospect of making a large sum of money and potentially improving her own reputation was also very tempting. Breaker seemed to sense her hesitation, and he nodded understandingly. "It's not an easy decision, I know. But I think it could be worth it for you. You're one of the best seamstresses in Astaria, Siera. You deserve to be recognized."

 

     Magda took a deep breath, weighing her options. She knew that Breaker was right - she was one of the best seamstresses in Astaria, and she did deserve to be recognized. And if the council was willing to pay top dollar for her services, she couldn't afford to turn it down. But, her secrets swirled around in the back of her mind. The fear held her back, that they would find her. Slipping into the settlement for a day and rushing back into hiding had worked well with her up to now, and she did not want to risk being found.

 

     Magda's expression remained firm, her eyes flashing with a hint of unease. "I appreciate your offer, Breaker, but I'm not interested," she said, her voice firm but polite. Breaker's face fell, and he looked at her with a mixture of disappointment and concern. "But why not? We can provide for you, protect you... we're a community here." He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You're not alone out there, Siera. You don't have to be."

 

     Magda's eyes darted away, her gaze avoiding Breaker's probing stare. She shifted uncomfortably, her voice tight with emotion. "I'm fine, really. I just need to be left alone." Breaker's expression turned pleading again, and he reached out to take her hand.

 

     "Please, Siera. Don't say no without giving it some thought. You deserve to be happy and safe." But Magda pulled her hand free, her eyes flashing with a hint of fear. Breaker's face fell, and he looked at her with a deep sadness. "I understand," he said quietly. "But know that you're always welcome here. If you change your mind, you'll always have a home with us. Just think about talking to Vee."

 

     Magda nodded stiffly, feeling a pang of guilt for lying to and hurting her friend's feelings. But she knew she couldn't stay in the Scrapyard - it was too close to the world she had left behind. Also, she could sense a slight tension in Breaker's voice. Her answer meant more to him than he would show here surrounded by his men, but Magda knew how Breaker felt about her. She could sense the tension in his voice, a hint of disappointment and longing that he couldn't quite conceal. She knew that Breaker loved her, deeply and truly, and she appreciated his devotion. But she also knew that she couldn't reciprocate his feelings, not fully, not the way he wanted, when she couldn't even tell him her true name. Besides, her heart was already taken, and had been for years, by the one being who mattered most to her.

​

     As they parted ways, Magda felt a sense of relief wash over her. She had protected her secrets once again, but the weight of her deception hung heavy in her heart. She knew that she couldn't stay hidden alone in the wasteland forever, but for now, it was the only way she could keep herself and her daughter safe from the dangers that lurked in the shadows. She knew that Breaker would never understand her reasons for staying hidden, for keeping her distance from him and the others, for keeping her daughter hidden from the probing eyes of the wasteland. But she knew that he would respect her decision, even if it hurt him to do so.

 

     As she walked away from the scrapyard, Magda felt another stab of guilt for hurting Breaker's feelings. She knew that he had developed feelings for her a while ago, and that he deserved better than to be rejected by someone he cared for so deeply. But she couldn't bring herself to lie to him, to pretend that there was a chance for them when she knew there wasn't. Her heart was set on her daughter, and on the life they had built together in the wasteland. Magda quickened her pace, feeling a sense of relief wash over her as she put distance between herself and the scrapyard. She knew that she had made the right decision, even if it was a hard one. She had to protect herself and her daughter, no matter what it cost. And as she disappeared into the wasteland, Magda knew that she would have to face the consequences of her choice, alone.

 

     As Magda began her journey back to her bunker in the desert, the scorching sun beat down on her and drained her of her energy. She carefully rationed her container of water, knowing that she couldn't afford to waste a single drop. But it was a struggle to resist the urge to take a refreshing gulp, and she had to muster all her willpower to keep going. As she walked, Magda's pace gradually slowed, and her breathing grew heavier. She was exhausted, but she knew she couldn't stop yet. She had to keep moving if she was going to make it back to the safety of her bunker.

 

     Spotting some barren plants growing nearby, Magda stopped to gather some of the tough, dry leaves for sustenance. She did not know much about her own kind but she knew that her body craved protein, and the plants of the wastelands alone were not enough to keep her nourished for long. As she gazed up at the sky, she noticed the carrion birds circling overhead, their raucous cries a constant reminder of the harsh realities of the wasteland.

 

     But Magda's attention was soon drawn back to her own condition. She had developed a cough over the past few weeks, and it was now getting worse. The dry air was harsh on her lungs, and she could feel the familiar tickle of phlegm building up in her chest. She tried to suppress it, but it was no use. The fit took over, and Magda collapsed onto the hot sand, clutching at her throat as she hacked away. She struggled as she ripped the fabric shawl from around her head and raised it to her lips.

 

     As she struggled to regain her breath, Magda's gaze fell upon a small patch of blood on the cloth. Her heart sank as she realized the true extent of her condition. She had been ignoring her own health for too long, and now it was catching up with her. Panic set in as she scrambled to her feet, but it was too late. The next thing she knew, everything went dark. Magda's world went black as she succumbed to exhaustion and illness. She lay there on the sand, unaware of the dangers that lurked in the wasteland, or the fate that possibly awaited her when she finally came to. The sun continued to beat down on her, baking her into the desolate landscape as if she were just another piece of carrion waiting to be picked clean by the scavenging birds.