The islands to the North

The Grey Tower looked majestic in the dawn light, he thought, looking at the tall building before him. Two of the moons were visible, and the sky was clear, save a few clouds moving to the North, behind the tower. He looked around, at the sandy beach on which he stood, looked at the trail of three-toed footprints that led back to the sea, and where his small boat was run aground on the beach. The tower had stood since before the Dust City fell, several thousand years ago, and would probably stand long after the Ninth City had been ground into powder by the passage of time. There was a lot to think about on this silver beach, before the monument to a forgotten civilisation. He drew his wings about him in a feeble effort to keep the chill wind off his amphibian skin and thought about his home, a city to the south, where he would be heading next. He hoped that there wouldn’t be anything in particular wrong with the boat, as swimming back to the mainland could take days, even if there was no chance of drowning.

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