It felt like we had been walking since the dawn of time, instead of just for one day.
The desert was quiet in that strange, unnatural way that makes you keep glancing over your shoulder, expecting something to be there. Sand crunched under our boots, the sound sharp against the silence. The wind was little more than a dry breath, enough to carry grit into my teeth.
"Look!" Ayesha's small voice cut through the heat. She pointed ahead. The silhouette of the city was finally closer.
Through the shimmering haze, it rose from the earth—pale and curved like the ribcage of a titanic creature. At first, I thought it might be some rock formation that formed these "ribs", but the closer we got, the clearer it became: this wasn't nature's work. They were massive pillars, bleached by sun and time, and beyond them lay the jagged remains of a city.
The ruins stretched as far as I could see, crumbled walls, shattered archways, streets buried under drifting sand. All of it looked dead… except for the temple.
It sat at the highest point, a colossus among corpses. The stairs leading up to it were long and steep, carved from the same pale stone as the pillars. Even from a distance, the columns seemed impossibly tall, stabbing into the sky as though trying to hold it up.
Abu shifted closer to me. "Where is everyone?"
I glanced around. There wasn't a single bird, no scurrying lizard, no wind pushing sand through the streets. Every sound we made echoed back at us, bouncing off the hollow shells of buildings.
"I don't think there's anyone left," I said, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince.
We stepped into the city. The ground was uneven, broken stone hidden under thin layers of sand. Symbols were carved into some of the walls, loops, spirals, and shapes I didn't recognize, worn almost smooth by age. I traced one with my fingertips. The stone felt cool, almost damp, as though it held onto some memory of life long gone.
The twins stayed close, their eyes darting from shadowed doorways to the towering temple.
When we finally began the climb, the steps felt heavier than they should have. Up close, the columns didn't just look like bone, they felt like it. Smooth, pale, streaked with faint reddish veins. My skin prickled as I imagined the sheer size of whatever had inspired them.
At the top, the great doors of the temple stood slightly open. A stale, cool draft brushed my face, smelling faintly of dust and something herbal. I took a breath, glanced at Ayesha and Abu, and pushed the doors wide.
The hinges groaned, as if something inside had been sleeping a very long time.
We slowly made our way inside the twins' inquisitive gaze still roaming wherever they could.
I hope this is where I get the answers to many of the questions that have plagued me for what felt like a lifetime but was only three days.