For you are dust, and to dust you shall return—From the Bible, Genesis 3:19
The imposing grayish-white city wall, rising to a height of three meters, loomed before Lumian, stretching as far as the eye could see.
A multitude of private carriages, four-seaters, open tops, tandems, and cargo carriers queued, awaiting entry through the city gate.
Blue-uniformed tax collectors and white-shirted, black-vested police officers inspected each carriage methodically. Occasionally, they would demand identification or order pedestrians to open their suitcases.
Lumian, clutching his brown suitcase, scanned the scene, casting furtive glances as he sought a way to bypass the checkpoint.
Before long, a man who had observed his behavior approached.
"What's the matter, friend? You look a bit uneasy." The man was somewhat shorter than Lumian but twice as broad. His cheeks were plump, causing his blue eyes to appear minuscule.
