The Creators Chapter 3 Redux
ASTRID The Gratoran Wall was nothing but a blue haze against the sterile desert sky, its amorphous outline split violently by Droktin’s Pass, whose geometric strangeness dwindled to a murky sliver with each agonizing minute. I watched as the tallest peak of the range, Iona, my homeland, faded into the azure blandness with the rest of the mountains until it disappeared completely in the sweltering air. The wheels of the slave cart squeaked, and the metal bars singed my skin. My wings ached...