Near the ending of the third day, we crested a ridge and saw what remained of Serrath. I had seen a small part of it in my vision. But seeing it in person was different. The vision had been a small slice of memory, and it did not show me the full reality of this place, and the extent of the devastation.
Serrath had been a fortress city, built into the side of a mountain, its walls rising from the stone as though they had grown there. Now those walls were gone, reduced to rubble by the force of the enemy's assault. The towers that had once reached into the clouds had been toppled, their broken remains scattered across the valley floor like the bones of a dead giant.
