James looked at Hass, offering a slight squint as if to say that he shared his concerns for the days and weeks ahead. They headed out of the relative solace of the village. Hass stole one last glimpse of home before the trail led them out of sight.

It had been nearly fifty years since the near annihilation that left the planet scarred, only small bands of survivors, pockets of life in a barren landscape. Hass and James had been chosen to venture out, on a mission to find the fabled Mistville Manor, to hopefully reveal any secrets it may be keeping.

“Do you think it will be there?” said Hass, chewing on his bottom lip.
“It is there Hass, I am sure of it.” James muttered. “It has to be.”

Hass grabbed the straps of his pack, adjusting the massive weight on his back. Following the crudely drawn map, the two kept to the trails and remains of old roads as best they could. A slight breeze gently blowing dead leaves by their feet. Some large rocks and downed trees dotted the landscape.