One thousand years have passed...Iron, gunpowder and steam engines have been rediscovered, and high technology reigns...
But there are some who would enslave the world by reviving the dread destructive force known as "magic."
Can it be that those in power are on the verge of repeating a senseless and deadly mistake?
Dark clouds covered the sky, stretching far over the horizon. The townspeople of Narshe drew their coats and shawls closer to themselves, and huddled in their homes around blazing fires. Despite the harshness of the winter, Narshe was kept reasonable warm by geothermal energy. All seemed peaceful...
On a snow-covered ledge overlooking the town, three people approached. The howling wind and thick snow muffled the clanking of the strange metal machines in which they rode. They stopped near the tip, and one walked towards the west edge.
"There's the town..." Vicks said softly, as Wedge looked out over the distance at Narshe.
Wedge nodded from his vantage point. "Hard to believe an Esper's been found intact there, 1000 years after the War of the Magi..."
Vicks joined him. "You think it's still alive?" he asked.
"Probably...judging from the urgency of our orders," Wedge replied.
Both men stood silent for a few moments, then turned toward the third person, a woman, who had been following behind them. Her hair was a sea-green color, which cast a faint, almost eerie glow onto the metal of her Magitek armor. She had the blankness and motions of a well-trained servant, of someone who knew exactly what to do. Her movements were submissive, almost mechanical.
Vicks looked at her dubiously. "And this woman, this...sorcerer. Why's she here?" He peered into her eyes, but could see no emotion in them. "I heard she fried 50 of our Magitek armored soldiers in under three minutes."
His companion laughed at his dismay. "Not to worry," Wedge reassured him. "The Slave Crown on her head robs her of all conscious thought. She'll follow orders." He headed back toward the path through which they had come. "We'll approach from the east," he commanded. "Move out!"
Three silhouetted figures carefully wound their way through the mountain passes, heading toward Narshe. Soon, it loomed before them.
The snow gently began to fall.