The kindergarten appeared on the horizon, surrounded by green fields and colorful playground equipment. But something was wrong. Even from a distance, Sir Santo could see it.
The earth was torn.
Great gashes split the ground, revealing dark soil and broken roots. The playground equipment was shattered, twisted and destroyed. Banners lay in tatters on the grass. The snack tables were overturned, their contents scattered across the field.
And there were people everywhere.
Parents, warriors and lords from different clans, children.
Some were crying. Some were hugging. Some were just standing, staring at the destruction, their faces blank with shock.
Sir Santo's heart stopped.
"Faster," he whispered. "Faster."
The chariot descended.
Parents looked up as the golden light of the chariot fell across them. Warriors reached for their weapons, then relaxed when they saw the angelic symbols on the sides. Children pointed and whispered.
But Sir Santo didn't care about any of them.
