Wallowing in exhaustion, you trudge through the empty and dark streets of the kingdom, Euthoria, an ancient land ruled by cruel or giving kings and queens for centuries. Your feet sometimes slip, but you manage to catch yourself each time, trying to ignore how much your worn body weighed you down, a desire to just lay down on the mossy cobbles and fall asleep.

Your gaze falls to the floor ahead of you, tempted to give in to your desires. However, the lantern in your hand burns brighter a soft and gentle push to keep going. Inside the lantern, an internally burning flame flickered with soft pops and hisses, the flame being your late father's soul, guiding you through all the twists and turns this cruel world had to offer.