Kenda eased his body downward and crawled out of the crevice, keenly aware of the need to keep his head low. He crawled to the edge of the cliff and stared downward. Duran was utterly destroyed. Wooden buildings had become heaps of ashes and smoldering debris. Where stone buildings had stood, piles of broken rock littered the ground. Thousands of men in red uniforms swarmed through the city, poking into the piles of rubble as they passed by.

Kenda’s eyes were drawn to the city well. Around it stood over a hundred dark-hooded men. Kenda tried to make sense of the needless slaughter, but he could not comprehend it. He thought about the local farmers, and how they became obsessed with ridding their farms of moles. It was the only thought about complete annihilation that he could come up with, but he failed to see how the citizens of Duran could be considered a threat to anyone. It made no sense to the Sakovan boy.

As Kenda was watching the men around the well, he saw one of them point upward towards the Wall of Mermidion. A chill shivered through Kenda’s body as he watched the large group of mages turn their eyes towards him. He dared not move, his eyes frozen on the well and the men around it. Eventually, the mages stopped looking in his direction, and Kenda sighed with relief. The respite from fear was brief.

One of the mages called to a group of red-clad soldiers and pointed to the cliffs. Kenda could see the soldier nod exaggeratedly before turning and shouting to some of the other soldiers. Soon six soldiers were running towards the base of the Wall of Mermidion. When the soldiers came close to the base of the cliff, Kenda was no longer able to see them. He backed slowly away from the edge and retreated into his crevice.

“I said that we couldn’t reach the top,” Kenda said aloud as if Jackle were still there to hear him, “but I hope that I was wrong. Those soldiers are coming up to check the crevices.”