A warm golden light washed over the ragged line of refugees as they stumbled out of the cavern, blinding eyes that had grown accustomed to the pitch black tunnels.
Eamon squinted against the sudden brilliance of the midday sun and threw a hand over his face. He had expected to walk out of the dark mountain pass into a barren wasteland or a fortified prison camp. Instead, a towering tree of solid golden light dominated the center of a bustling, vibrant city. The Genesis Tree pulsed with a warm rhythmic energy that cast a soothing aura over the paved stone streets of Ashguard.
Halrik stopped at the edge of the cavern exit and gestured for the five hundred refugees to keep moving. The Valorian outcasts shivered in their filthy rags and hesitated at the threshold of the light. They looked at
