Feya opened her eyes on the veil of darkness above her head. She rose and yawned, blinking in the dimness. Shrugging off discouragement, she picked up her walking stick, and fumbled down the road once more.

Fifty days had passed since the sun stopped rising. No one knew what had happened, but one morning, it never appeared. No gentle rays softly pushed away the dark curtains of night. Nor had it returned in weeks. Each morning was as dark as midnight but there were no stars, and no moon. Great was the distress in the kingdom of Calrian, but Feya had taken little part in the ensuing panic.

As a child, her old grandmother recounted a story of the Great Giants in the North, Giants tall enough and strong enough that they even took a star from the heavens before they were banished to the World Underground.

After some time, when the light did not return, Feya decided to go in search of it. Everywhere she went, each town she traveled through, was ransacked with terror. People raced by, taking little notice of a complete stranger. Others slumped on chairs or on porches, staring blankly into the dark. Feya's heart stirred with pity. The further she went, the less panic there was. Silent hopelessness was fast filling her beloved kingdom, a land that once rang with joyful music.

On Feya went, in search of the end of the world, where the dark kingdom of the Giants' Underworld was said to hide.