By evening, a thin veil of mist had settled over a deserted village.
Arthur stood in the shadow of a roofless house, looking down a street that had not seen ordinary life in years.
Weeds grew between the paving stones. Doors hung crookedly from their hinges, and faded curtains stirred behind broken windows.
Beyond the abandoned buildings, the Temple of Moonlight rose against the darkening sky.
Or rather, what remained of it.
One of its towers had collapsed. Another leaned at such an alarming angle that Arthur wondered what was still holding it upright. The pale stone of the outer walls bore scorch marks, while the symbols carved above the entrance had been deliberately defaced.
Yet the compound surrounding the temple was anything but neglected.
