Michelle stood on the pier walkway of Shuimi Town's dock, feeling the planks spring under his soles with every step.
He followed behind Horn, who was striding ahead, yet his own eyes couldn't help but dart around.
While Horn was chatting idly with the local Priest-in-Charge from the Town Hall, Michelle looked straight at the little town before him.
The stone mooring posts used to tie up the boats were still worn silky-smooth by the rubbing of ropes, and the stone-brick houses of the town still had walls decorated with quartz sand.
But when he lifted his head, the sky was veiled with gauzy grayish-white smoke, and every now and then yellow fumes coiled around the white like venomous snakes.
The smell of cooking smoke and fish had vanished from his nose; all that remained was the scorched fragrance of European Beech charcoal mixed with the cloying sweetness of molten glass.
"Well? Do you still recognize your own home?" Horn asked with a smile, boots on the cobbled avenue.
