The tower inched closer as Seeker and Companion walked, until at last it felt near enough to touch. A side path appeared between the wheat fields, fences lining either side. The sun was sinking behind the mountains, casting golden beams over the shimmering wheat.
Seeker’s heart pounded as Companion turned down the path toward the ravine—and the tower. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. Just a little further, beyond the clump of trees, and he’d finally be at the Interpreter’s House. He wanted to run. But he stayed beside Companion.
When the Interpreter’s House came into view, he froze. What was this? The roofs were gone, the walls crumbling, stones scattered. Only a single tower still stood, stark against the sky—a remnant of what once was.
The wind moved through the ruins, stirring up the dry scent of old, broken stone and dust, filling his mouth with bitterness, while the lingering freshness from the stream mocked him. Somewhere in the distance, a bird cawed.
The weight of his journey dragged him down. He was exhausted. Nothing made sense—the abandoned castle, the empty gate, and the ruined house. He dropped to his knees. He wanted to cry, but no tears came. What did this all mean?
