They reached the western quarter of Ashfen as the sun reached its zenith.The transition from border camp to collapsed territory proper was not dramatic. No clear boundary marker, no change in the road's condition that would signal entry into a different administrative zone. Just a gradual intensification of what Kael had already been seeing: more grey soil, more abandoned structures, more evidence of a place that had stopped functioning and never resumed.The village appeared first as a cluster of shapes on the flat horizon. As they came closer, the shapes resolved into buildings. Stone foundations, mostly intact. Walls that had been timber or clay brick, now partially collapsed. Roofs that had been thatch or tile, now gone or rotted through in patterns that suggested years of weather exposure without maintenance.A sign at the village's eastern edge, weathered but readable: GREYVANE.Kael stopped at the sign and looked at the village beyond it.Forty structures, by his quick count.
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