The Exile

Far from the quiet hum of Ashvine, deep in the Wastes, a man named Dren knelt by the edge of a polluted river. The landscape stretched out around him in hues of ashen gray and muted brown, the scars of the old world etched deep into the earth. Jagged ridges of abandoned structures jutted from the ground like broken teeth, remnants of a time when humans had pushed the planet to its breaking point.

Dren dipped a makeshift sieve into the sluggish water, scooping out flecks of precious metals that glimmered faintly in the dim sunlight. He wiped his brow with a tattered sleeve, his face weathered but sharp, and sighed as he added the haul to a small pouch. It wasn’t much, but it would keep him alive another day.

The Wastes were the last refuge for those who had violated the principles of the new world—an exile not imposed with cruelty, but with purpose. Here, those who had caused harm were given the tools to rebuild, to face the consequences of their actions, and, if they chose, to atone

In this new age, justice was not about punishment but restoration. For those who had caused harm—whether to others, to the environment, or to the fragile balance of the human-Creche alliance—a process was set in motion. Restorative councils comprised of humans and Creche mediators evaluated the damage caused and crafted a path forward.

Some, like Dren, were sent to the Wastes. There, they were tasked with reclaiming the land, salvaging resources, and repairing the damage left behind by the old world. Others, whose offenses were less severe, worked within their communities to restore balance.

But exile to the Wastes was not permanent. Those who showed genuine effort and change could petition to return, their record not erased but transformed into a narrative of redemption.