Cassiopeia of Charm wondered what human cities looked like when they weren't reduced to rubble.
By the time she and her War Band made it into Making, Aerie, and a half-dozen other settlements, they'd already been razed to the ground.
She hoped Whitehearth would be different.
The sun was out when she arrived.
Sunny and warm-- that was perfect for the occasion.
It was supposed to be her 'proper' planned reunification with her brother.
It was supposed to be beautiful.
Ominous shadows washed over the ruined marketplace.
Empty, lifeless, covered in trash and debris...
Whitehearth made the slums of Charm look like Celestia.
Why... in the seven hells... did Tycon want to save Whitehearth, of all places?
"And what is going on with the sun?" she complained aloud, "First, it rises too early, and now it's practically night again?"
"The sun has yet to fall," the Silver Oracle said mysteriously.
