Before the initial invasion of the Volons, 3 small troops of Volian hunters were sent to scout out the territory and report their findings. They entered through the eastern mountains of the Elipson Dessert, a place at that time mostly inhabited. King Koriale current leader of the Volons, had given specific orders for the hunters to stay in Voilia for a week and to remain hidden from the native Ahlyans. The Volons had never seen such life all in one place. It was flourishing with natural resources and was a perfect opportunity to settle. Although magical creates existed outside of the crater, they were rare and kept to themselves, a harsh contrast to a magical being around every corner. The hunters separated and explored Elipson for 3 days before regrouping. When they did, they discovered that from the 24 hunters sent, only 5 had survived. Collectively, they decided to retreat back to the Volon camp and bring their findings to King Korial, hoping it would be enough to satisfy him despite the orders to stay longer. 

One of the hunters took the role of the leader, fending off monsters from killing the rest of the group. Against all odds, he succsesfully lead 2 of the hunters back to the mountin at which they could exit Voilia. That brave man's name was Rhys. 

"C'mon! Just a bit fursther, soon we will be free." He declared. 

"Rhys," one hunter panted, putting his arms on his knees to support his weight. "Rhys, please, we need to rest." 

"No! Night is when the horrible creatures will feast on us, we must keep going to safety." Rhys placed the mans arm around his shouler, allowing him to lean his weigh on top of him. "I understand you are tired and injured," he continued, looking around to the last two of his men that had survived the journey. "But we must keep going!" 

Hours passed, seemingly never ending amounts of dry rock was present as far as the eye could see. None had uttered a word or stopped for a break, trying to save as much energy for the journey. That was, untill, the loud call of the bird traveled through the air. 

"Sir Rhys!" One of the hunters called. 

"No more complaining, keep walking," Rhys yelled back, not even bothering to run his head and instead grabbed a stable ledge on the mountin to climb onto. "Sir Rhys!" the other hunter called this time, his voice filled with panick. "Sir Rhys, the sun! It's falling, a peice of the sun is falling!"