Deborah's POV
The next day, my strength was finally restored, and Matthew's wound had nearly healed completely.
We had no time to waste.
We needed to find hope—the place I'd seen in my dream, marked on the map as Tirfothuinn.
But the immediate reality can't be ignored.
The harsh desert environment was unforgiving.
We didn't have enough food or water, making it impossible to survive here for much longer.
We needed to find supplies, to locate a place where there might still be remnants of civilization.
"We need to head to a place where there might be resources—maybe the ruins of a city nearby." I looked at Matthew, my gaze firm.
He nodded, saying nothing more.
Taking a deep breath, I focused my energy and whispered the spell.
"Ventus Swift!"
The surrounding scenery blurred and twisted as we were suddenly whisked away by an invisible wind, transported to a completely different place—a desolate city ruin.
The sight before me took my breath away.
Ruined skyscrapers lay in crumbling heaps, exposed steel beams and collapsed walls scattered across the ground like the broken ribs of a giant beast, desperately reaching for the sky with its gaping maw.
The roads were lined with houses that had long since been worn away by time, their paint peeling, revealing rotting bricks beneath.
The wind whistled between the buildings, emitting a low, mournful wail.
We stood in what looked like a former square.
In the center was a shattered pedestal, bearing only the lower half of a damaged stone statue, standing alone amidst scattered stones and faded banners.
It felt like a silent testament to the past's prosperity and its inevitable downfall.
Suddenly, thick clouds gathered in the sky above, and within minutes, heavy raindrops began to pelt down.
"A storm's coming!" I shouted, grabbing Matthew's arm and pulling him towards the nearest building that seemed relatively intact.
That structure, at least, still had a partially intact roof, enough to provide us some shelter from the downpour.
As soon as we stepped inside, I couldn't help but cough softly—the entire interior was covered in a thick layer of dust, the air heavy with the scent of mildew and decay.
The furniture had long since rotted away; wooden tables and chairs were riddled with termite holes, barely holding together.
Faded wallpaper hung in tatters from the walls, resembling ragged strips of cloth flapping in the stale air.
Books, torn and moldy, lay scattered across the floor, along with rusty dishes and utensils.
I glanced around the room, and my gaze fell on a row of framed pictures hanging on the wall, covered in a thick layer of dust.
I reached out, gently brushing away the dust with my fingertips.
It was… a family portrait.
The picture showed a family of five—a father, a mother, an older son, a younger daughter, and a baby swaddled in a blanket. Their faces were lit with bright smiles, brimming with a sense of warmth and happiness.
Despite the dim light and faded colors, the feeling of familial joy remained palpable.
I stared at the family photo, a wave of inexplicable emotion rising within me.
Were they still alive?
Or had they long since become dust, scattered to the winds of this ruined world?
My thoughts drifted away from the crumbling house to my own family—my parents, my siblings.
Did our own family portrait still hang on the wall in our Hybrasil home in the Sky City?
"Deborah, come down here!" Matthew's voice suddenly echoed up from below, snapping me out of my reverie.
Startled, I hurried down to where his voice was coming from.
It turned out that this house had a basement.
Matthew was standing at the entrance to the basement, his expression solemn.
"You need to see this…" he murmured, his voice heavy.
I followed his gaze—and froze.
Lying on the basement floor were five intertwined skeletons.
My heart clenched painfully. Were… were these the five people in the photograph?
A profound sorrow and fear washed over me, twisting together into a suffocating mix.
I crouched down beside the skeletal remains, staring at what had once been human beings, now reduced to nothing but brittle bones.
It wasn't fear of death that gripped me, but the overwhelming sense of helplessness in the face of such utter destruction and despair.
Humanity was so fragile.
Yet, so resilient.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to calm down.
No matter what, we had to keep moving forward.
I lifted my gaze to meet Matthew's.
What we were doing—it was for something greater.
For everyone left in Murias.
I repeated this to myself, like a mantra.
Matthew nodded silently, then knelt down and picked up a few rusty cans from a nearby shelf.
"This is food, right? Beef, tuna…?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yes, theoretically." I picked up one of the cans, carefully studying the label. Tuna… I never thought I'd see seafood here.
I glanced at the expiration date and couldn't help but smile bitterly. "These are over fifty years past their expiration date."
"But I heard canned food doesn't spoil easily," Matthew replied, shrugging, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "We could give it a try."
His golden eyes sparkled mischievously.
I couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking my head.
"Then you wouldn't even know what 'spoiled' tastes like," I teased.
In this decrepit basement, we also found a few pieces of clothing—worn and faded, but still usable.
And we even found a few "weapons"—a rusty knife, an old hammer… We carefully collected everything that might be of use.
Night had fallen by the time we returned to the house's open staircase.
Above us, the storm had finally passed, revealing a clear night sky.
We ate the canned food we had discovered.
The taste was surprisingly good—savory beef that melted in our mouths, a long-forgotten pleasure for our deprived taste buds.
"It's actually better than Murias' food." Matthew remarked softly, savoring the flavor.
I nodded, then glanced up instinctively.
At that moment, a massive shadow swept silently across the open space above us.
We both looked up.
There, silhouetted against the stars, a huge dark figure loomed, gliding silently overhead like a great beast prowling through the sky.