Work Text:
The four of them walked into Hamelin. The city was far too quiet. It wasn't a city. It was a shell.
Swaine kept glancing around. Nothing was happening. Everything was the same as 20 years ago. It was as if time had stopped the second he had left. No bustling cityfolk. No open shops. No guards making the rounds. Just silence and fear. The city was scared, too scared to move, too scared to breath, lest it risk the wrath of what had forced it into quiet submission.
Oliver walked forward. And stopped. Swaine could see him shaking. Swaine walked up to him and lay his hand on his shoulder. Oliver wasn't alone. Oliver grabbed his hand. Esther walked to his other side and did the same. Drippy leapt into his bag. Together, they walked into the ghost of a once great city.
They faced no opposition. They walked to the palace, and there were 2 guards. 2 silent, unresponsive guards. They were as dead as the rest of the city. They let them pass with no qualms.
The palace was… better. Somewhat. At least it didn't feel as wrong, since there aren't supposed to be large swathes of people in the home of the leaders. But the leader wasn't there either. No one was there.
It was wrong. There were no people and no one to lead them. A land of nothing. Oliver wanted to leave. But he needed to find the Sage. Swaine suggested the Tombstone Trail. They might not find a living sage, but they might find something, anything, to help them.
Oliver agreed. They left the heartbroken city in the dust.