The City.

The remains of once-beautiful spires reached mournfully up to the morning sky, throwing snaggle-toothed shadows across the silent City. A trio of buzzards circled hopefully for any sign of movement. Not the least breath of air stirred the dry leaves that were scattered across the scarred and dusty roads. Rubble lay everywhere, the last vestiges of walls, of houses, of restaurants and shops. The last crumbling sections of the City Walls were a warning of destruction and despair. The only living things within ten miles were the rats who fed on the bones of those who had died there.

And it was to this broken City that she must come. Not knowing what she would find; not knowing, even, what she was looking for. Only that it was imperative that she find it, whatever it was.

The City was built near mountains, rugged and dry, and a desert sat at its doorstep.

...... to be continued, cos i'm off to work, i guess.

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