The central city of the Lumierian Empire was crowded with buildings that had towering spires that pierced the heavy, grey clouds. Somewhere on the Great Cathedral close to the station district, the tallest towering spire had a massive round clock that ticked away with a steady thrum.
If one narrowed their eyes to the peak of the spire, they would see that sitting atop the stone ledge was a beautiful woman who looked to be somewhere in her early twenties.
She was dangling one leg while the other was pulled close to her chest as she watched the busy streets of Fashkire. As the city hummed with the sound of steam engines and distant chatter, she drank from a bottle of dark whiskey.
'I think I should beat up some people today and steal their money.' Aika thought as she took a long, burning swig from the bottle.
She had no place to stay and was as broke as a common beggar at a feast.
