The area outside the Sealed Valley was a barren wasteland of grey, cracked earth. No grass grew here; no trees broke the horizon.
There was only dust and dead stone that crunched loudly under every heavy step, a grim buffer zone between civilization and the nightmares locked behind the barrier.
On the northern ridge, the ground was uneven, covered in loose gravel and sharp rocks that had broken off the cliffside over the years. Behind the ridge, the forest started — a wall of dark green trees with thick trunks and low branches pressed so close together they looked like they were trying to keep the valley's rot from spreading.
The wind carried a heavy smell of pine and decay.
In front of the ridge, the valley stretched out like an old scar across the world. The massive barrier itself was invisible to the naked eye, but you could see where it was by the way the air shimmered, bending the weak grey light like heat rising from hot stone.
