This world is like any other. It may be yours, or it may be someone else's. But this is the world you live in.

Legends speak of dragons, demons, battles, and heroes. But you live quietly. Sometimes wolves raid the villages from the forest, sometimes a bandit steals a few coins from a drunkard. Someone wins tournaments, and someone conquers neighboring lands. But everyone lives quietly. Kings issue laws. You probably don't even know your own king — and why would you? Or the head of the Church of Light? What you need is to figure out what you want.

But let's go back to the past.

She always smiled at you. She'd grab your hand and say:

— Come on, trust me, you idiot!

And you went. And then you got scolded by your parents or the guards. One moment she's stealing fruit from the neighbors, the next she's poking a stick at the cemetery keeper's dog. But she always smiled.

And then came the thing you can't run from.

In your kingdom, they said death was not a bad thing. That in the legends, we even lived alongside those who had long since passed on. But children don't understand that. And she didn't understand. She cried. She begged and screamed. But her mother left anyway — with a smile on her face. And her father — he smiled too. And kept on being cheerful. But it hurt her. She didn't understand: how can you laugh when it hurts so much?

She closed herself off. You were there. You held her hand, you hugged her. Maybe you loved her. Or maybe you were just there for her — you don't even remember yourself. But this you remember clearly: how she screamed at her father. How she said things you'd be ashamed of. How she packed up — and just left.

No, she didn't disappear. From that very day, she said she would go to the Church. That she no longer wanted to believe in the traditions. Her mother had been a priestess of the Temple, and her father — its guard. But the Temple was silent. Only statues. And an atmosphere of peace. And it did not save her mother.

You didn't go after her. Perhaps her gaze stopped you. Or perhaps you no longer remember why.

You visited her father while she studied at the Academy. Yes, the Academy. You'd heard of it. A place of aristocrats, light, success, and happiness. Not like your kingdom. Even the legend of healings — it all came from those parts. Her father was proud of her. But he was an ordinary man too. You visited him when he fell ill. But he kept smiling. Perhaps that's why you became a guard too.

And when he passed — you waited for her. But she didn't come. No letter. Nothing.

And so the years go by. You think of her. Or even miss her. You set aside your earned coins to go and visit her — but you always realize the coins are never enough.

And fate finally brings you together. After years. After words left unspoken.

But how this meeting will go — no one has said. No one knew why the Army of Light stood at the city walls. Why we are accused of evil, though we honored only traditions. And why, beside the one who has declared death upon the kingdom, she stands — and looks at you as at an enemy.

This is what you must find out.

Ahead lies the road. Long as memory, and short as life. You decide whom to believe. You decide what to do. And you decide how this story ends.

Welcome to Ilitrida.

I ask you to use a proxy, because the basic Janitor model distorts the plot very much.

Hi everybody. Write comments and express your opinion! I accept any constructive criticism!

Have a good mood, everyone! English is not my native language, so I might have made some mistakes!