The eastern side of the ruins was a maze of broken stone and collapsed rooftops, the remnants of what had once been a small settlement before the Descent.
Houses stood in various states of decay — some with walls still standing, others reduced to little more than foundations overgrown with moss and creeping vines.
A few buildings had managed to keep their second floors, though the staircases had long since crumbled, leaving behind hollow shells with empty windows that stared out at the forest like hollow eye sockets.
I moved down the narrow street, my boots crunching softly on scattered rubble and shattered pottery.
The sun filtered through the broken arches, casting long, geometric shadows across the dirt.
Amelia walked a few feet behind me, her staff gripped tightly, her silver-violet eyes relentlessly scanning the perimeter. Lyssaria brought up the rear, her bandaged arm tucked close to her chest, her jade-green eyes entirely calm despite the underlying pain.
