The campfire that we had set up on the rocky soil sputtered, but remained burning. I looked at the forlorn faces seated around me, and knew that my face was similarly saddened. We all knew what the next stage of our journey lead us closer to us. We all dreaded it. I do not care to act selfish, but I felt that I had the most to fear.
I stood up, wanting to stretch my joints and my mind. Worrying would not solve anything, and I felt that I couldn't sit here and let something avoidable happen. I went to go have some time away from the group, so that I could think more clearly.
I walked past the fire, drawing the attention of my comrades. I stopped as I reached the other side of the fire pit, and placed my hand on her shoulder. Despair almost overwhelmed me as she glanced at my face, and then turned her eyes to my hand. I let my hand slip off her shoulder as I left her side.
Just ahead, the ground led up to the water of the ruins. I stepped up them, and stood surveying the souls of the dead dance over the equally dead stone. Once, this place was full of life, a metropolis where people would come to live their lives in the best way possible. That was a thousand years ago. Now, it is simply dead.
I suppose the best place to begin is the beginning. Listen to me, before it's too late. This. is our story.