The ruins lay in decay, only a few large candlesticks still burning with embers. Sparks rose into the air, entangled with the heavy snow.
Standing on the high walls of ruins, leaning among the remnants of broken walls, coiled within the dirt-stained pits, each Wizard remained in a long, silent vigil amidst the rubble. Recall the prosperity of Sky Island not long ago, the bustling scene of peers, and then behold the present desolation; even the coldest of Wizards would feel a hint of emotion.
The wind lifted the hems of their clothes, and snow landed on the brims of their hats.
In this moment, there was an inexplicable sense of time worn thin.
It was unknown who began, but the haunting melody of the Requiem rose with the smoke and mournful wind, reaching every corner of Sky Island.
As the melody came to an end, the Wizards in the ruins slowly recovered from the sorrowful tune. Monty, who stood at the heart of the ruins, spoke his first words at this time.
