Hours had passed since Ravien descended. Afternoon had already slipped into evening, and pale rays from the westering sun struck the stone walls of the fortress.
After a long wait, he finally rose to his feet. His steps were heavy as he stepped outside and turned his face toward the dry land stretching under cracked earth and a faint mist-covered forest. Wind drifted between the brittle weeds, stirring the dust into fleeting spirals.
Ravien pulled out a small leather notebook and began taking notes on the soil's texture, the slope of the terrain, and areas suitable for city construction.
From time to time, he raised his head to examine the distant silhouette of the mountains, trying to fix every detail in his mind.
When the sun fully disappeared and one of the four moons began to follow the other across the sky, he returned to the fortress. As he walked through the corridors, he checked the firewood stacked in the corners—nothing was missing, nothing was in excess.
