The [Warp Gate] had deposited them on a snow-covered hill a few hundred meters from New Whisperfield's northern edge, and Myrasyn was squinting before anyone else had even stepped through.
"Isveth." She grabbed the other elf's arm without looking away from the view. "Are those trees inside the city?"
Isveth's eyes narrowed against the winter glare. A settlement of compressed earth buildings stretched across several square kilometers of forest below them, three stories tall with frosted quartz windows and external stone staircases, its roads woven between old-growth oaks and evergreen groves that stood inside the city as though the builders had refused to cut a single one.
"They built around them..." Isveth confirmed, and her grip on her own wrist tightened. "As expected of the Holy Son..."
"And the streets are not snowy at all!" Myrasyn squinted, shading her eyes with one hand.
"Are those... Children?" Isveth said. "Running merrily in the cold winter?"
