The salty, damp sea breeze swept away the last wisp of scorched stench from Steinbach that lingered in Anton's memory.
He stopped walking and held the sleeping Lina in his arms a little tighter.
Before him, a city burst forth from the gray-white mountain rock, its towers piercing the clouds.
It was no fortress stacked from brick and timber, but a behemoth carved directly out of the mountainside.
Five distinct tiers ascended one after another, the white tower at its apex reflecting a hallowed light in the morning sun. The stone-paved roads, wide enough for three carriages to travel abreast, were clean and neat. On either side, men and women in uniform work clothes pushed handcarts or directed steel cranes, powered by some kind of Magic Power, to load and unload cargo. Everyone moved with purpose, their faces devoid of the numbness and despair Anton knew so well, filled instead with vigor and hope.
