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Sand.

Sun.

No clouds.

No trees.

No water.

Nothing for miles but the scorching desert.

For the last ten days only the dunes of the Great Desert.

She kept walking, she had to.

No one ever returned from the Great Desert.

She didn’t care.

What she was looking for existed only in old legends and fairy tales.

She didn’t care.

Others called her crazy.

She didn’t care.

They told her it was impossible.

She didn’t care.

She kept walking.

He was the only reason she had left to live.

She had to save him.

Even if it cost her life.

She had to save him.

Even if it cost her life.

She had to find it.

Auria.

The lost city.

The capital of the Aurs.

The origin of magic.

Where magic disappeared.

She kept walking.

The legends described the city as a floating wonder.

The legends said it was impossible to reach by anyone but the Aurs, the masters of magic.

But the floating city fell.

The Aurs disappeared.

Magic was no more.

The Great Desert was born.

She kept walking.

The only lead she had were the other four wandering cities.

The cities which were told to rest on the back of enormous monsters.

The cities which were told to circle around Auria.

She kept walking.

The sun was high over her head.

The sand seemed to burn under her feet.

She kept walking, she had to.

The earth trembled.

A dune far off in the distance started growing in size.

Sand started falling from the top.

The sand stopped falling.

She stopped walking.

A tortoise.

A city.

A tear.