Fenna stood atop the tallest tower of the Storm Cathedral, gazing out through the open window. Her eyes swept over the cathedral's rooftops, the twinkling lights deep within the mist, the city districts whose buildings no longer matched her memory, and the direction of the distant sea.
Beside the tower's spiral staircase, the steam-powered pipes emitted a faint hiss. Copper incense burners hung from the pipes' valves, wafting threads of smoke. The aged Archbishop Valentin stood silently nearby, his murky pale eyes, clouded from blood no longer flowing, looking into the distance with Fenna.
It was only after an indeterminate time that Fenna softly broke the silence: "I remember... I often stood on this tower too, whenever night fell, I watched over every corner of Prand, with the hissing of the steam pipes always present, and the scent of the incense bringing tranquility."
"It seems like that was only recently," murmured Archbishop Valentin.
