Morning came without ceremony.
The camp on the northern ridge slowly came to life as the first sunlight reached over the mountains.
John had already been awake for some time.
He stood near the edge of the ridge, staring down into the valley.
The ruins were still there.
At this distance, they looked almost insignificant.
A few broken walls.
Several stone structures hidden among the trees.
Nothing that seemed capable of explaining the strange lights from the previous night.
Yet John knew better than to judge something simply by its appearance.
Behind him, footsteps approached.
"You're going to wear a hole in the ground if you keep pacing."
John turned.
Lythriel was carrying breakfast.
"I wasn't pacing."
"You were."
She handed him a piece of bread.
"Eat."
John accepted it.
"Thanks."
She stood beside him and looked down at the valley.
"So that's where we're going?"
"Apparently."
She studied the ruins for a moment.
"Looks quiet."
"Too quiet."
