Although the sky was bright and sunny, nothing was beautiful. The town street Ronan had landed on through the portal was damp, cold, and smelled of horse droppings. Nearby, gray brick and mortar houses looked as though they were on their last legs. Each door and window shutter was hanging on by loose screws and covered in cheap, chipped paint. The chimney on one home at the edge of the street had long since collapsed, leaving ashy rubble in the road. Ronan sat up in great pain over his still bleeding wound. Disoriented, he rummaged for his sword. It was nowhere to be found, and he determined that he had dropped it when traveling through the Serpent Sorceress' portal. The portal too had disappeared, and Ronan realized he was on his own and weaponless. For the first time in over a decade, he was outside of the temple. Ronan fought his way to his feet, then felt a faint and nervous smile creep its way on his face. He was in rough shape, but he was alive, and he would fulfill his obj
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