LXXIII

After walking Shamira to her chamber, Michael took the path to Solovan. He was eager to see it and nervous at the same time. Different thoughts were envisaged in his head. He'd imagine Solovan to be a City but how will he seek the answers and with whom? Aeadia didn't specify.

He shouldn't have listened to that mysterious woman.

But he couldn't turn back now. Not when he was a few miles away from discovering his identity. He walked faster to stop by a hill. A mountain. What he saw traumatized him. It wasn't a city or a civilization as he expected but a prison yard.

The walls were so high that they could scrape the skyline and to think it was constructed like a mine baffled him. He climbed down from the hill down to the mountain and disappeared into the once beautiful City of Solovan.

There were people on iron shackles: Men holding sickles, spades, hoes, and shovels in the field, women picking cotton and buds, children planting and harvesting while still in chains.