Whispers in the Ruins. [Part - 2]
Aglow above him were the twin moons: one, a crystalline white coldness, the other, a dark, glowing blue. Both of them cast an unnatural light on the world—an unearthly illumination that transformed shadows into whispers and gave every tree an air of mystery.
He came to a stop at the edge of the ruins.
There it was.
The ruin of Old Silver City.
It emerged from the earth like the ruins of some long-dead giant, weathered and bowed with age. Fissured stone walls projected into the air like shattered teeth, shrouded in thorny vines that glowed weakly with a mysterious, residual mana—faint, but present. Cobblestone streets were broken, veins of roots cutting through them like nature's defiance. Ivy hung from windows like mourning veils, and half-fallen archways leaned into the darkness.
Leon gazed, throat catching in a breath.
"…Shit," he breathed. "Walking into a dream. Or a cemetery."
