At length, the mass took shape, dozens of red adobe buildings, and got larger until we arrived. I had visited some Native American ruins once that I was highly reminded of.

The city was a ghost town. The buildings were empty. Doors hung askew and inside everything was derelict. If the cabinets were magic, the magic had faded and the doors to empty cupboards swung in the breeze.

Amura stayed close behind me, watching with anxiety as we explored the streets. Benavur kept a tight hold on my hand as we sought any signs of habitation.

"This is saddening." Tavorwen lamented. "I visited here once, just before the Massacre, and...