The exiled one scouts ahead from his wagon, his tired gaze sweeping warily across the dark, barren lands. Sleepless nights had led to inconvenient soreness and exhaustion, rendering him almost soulless. The wagon continued to slowly rattle forward, almost lulling the masked man to sleep. Before his eyes would flutter shut, he caught glimpse of a faint greenish light a few yards ahead. In a few moments, he was met with a man carrying various jars and containers, all concealing inside numerous colorful fireflies. The man's mask was white, beautifully carved with dozens of delicate golden swirls, emanating a warm glow.