The Hollow Crown Page #8

• Fantasy
• Fiction
• Action and Adventure

								


There, nestled against the towering cliffs, stood the city. Its walls rose impossibly high, merging seamlessly with the jagged stone cliffs at their base. The walls, carved from the same rock as the cliffs, towered upwards as if they had grown from out of the earth itself. Two massive watchtowers flanked the main gate, their intricate stonework telling a story of ancient gods that carved the city straight out of the cliffside. The towers loomed over the entrance, their windows like hollow eyes, watching the surrounding terrain with silent vigilance.

The city was enclosed by these cliffs, completely protected from the outside world. Alaric could see the faint orange glow of street lamps beyond the walls, their light casting long shadows against the towering rock face behind. The flickering lamps illuminated the streets below, and the shadows of people moving through the city were thrown onto the cliff walls, ghostly and distorted by the height of the surrounding rock.

The gates stood closed, their surface covered in intricate carvings that depicted battles, kings, and long-forgotten gods. Alaric approached slowly, his breath visible in the cool night air. As he drew nearer, he prepared himself for what would come next.

He halted at the entrance, his heart pounding in his chest as the gates swung wide. The glow of the streetlamps spilled out, bathing him in a warm orange light as he stood at the threshold of the city. The weight of the crown and the scroll in his saddlebag tried to push down on him, but for the first time since his journey began, he felt a flicker of hope.

The answers he sought lay within these walls.
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