The morning chill mist still lingered as the convoy slowly traversed the final hill.
In that instant, the view opened up vividly.
The scenery before her took Mary's breath away.
A city lay quietly between the morning fog and the snowfield.
The half-completed gray-white city walls stretched out like a giant beast, covered in a thin layer of frost on the yet-to-be-polished stone, reflecting a cold brilliance.
Cold iron beams were embedded one by one into the stone layers, hard and sharp, like steel armor draping the city.
Several towers stood erect, piercing straight through the mist, with braziers hanging from iron frames at their tops, and remnants of firelight still exuding faint wisps of smoke.
What was even more mesmerizing was the sight of the fluttering crimson banners, presenting a stark contrast against the vast snowfield.
Like lighthouses in a snowstorm, they signified direction and hope ahead.
