Fulfillment
Yeah, this is gonna be extremely short. But I wanted y'all to know that I haven't given up. Not yet. In fact, I have returned! Muahaha... and such. And now, onward!
Chapter 11
The landscape was changed now. Likely forever.
Where once there had been great forests, there were charred remnants of wood and ash, devoid of life. Lush green valleys now ran like jagged scars across the landscape, littered with the carcasses of human and animal alike. Islands that were veritable tropical paradises were now seething and boiling, spewing lava and ash after being broken open by the volleys falling from the sky; whether the first or the final, none were sure. Then again, none were really sure why they had been targeted in the first place.
Little life remained on this world. Mostly birds, fish, the odd small forest creature scouring the few trees left for sustenance… and a few small groups of humans. Most of them tried to form small communities, shanty towns scrounging food from wherever they could, living in makeshift shelters of metal and cloth, wood and stone, doing whatever they could to shelter themselves from the elements and the raiders that had also become a part of daily life. All of them however avoided the city. The city was no the home of the anthros, the animal people who'd since gone feral. Very few groups of humans had been seen within, and they were just as crazy… to enter there without a large, well-armed crew was death.
And so the hellish cycle went on, watched by a single pair of tired eyes. The Traveler wrapped his scarf around his neck a bit more snugly and pulled his hood closed as much as possible, trying to remain warm in the frigid lands where the fortress in the sky had fallen. Great rooms and palatial decorations; a throne, marble columns, exotic plants, all lay scattered and broken into pieces. Very few things had survived the fall, but what was still salvageable he collected. An ornate bottle, some sacred seals, a model of a dragon still encased in glass somehow unbroken, all went into a small sack which he drew tightly shut. His eyes lingered for a moment, taking in the scene, settling on a bloody turban resting near the throne. Tears welled up in his eyes as he turned away, heading out into the wilds of the world.
The time for mourning would come later. The time for self-blame would come later. But for now, there were still living beings on the planet. For no… he still had a job to do.