The Great City Of Splendor

All that remained were the ruins, huge shards of steel and iron along with large stones that had once been assembled into fantastic buildings that climbed higher than the tallest trees. The tribe of largely young adults proceeded cautiously through the crumbled remains of the great towers, eyes and ears alert for the predators that lurked in the shadows.

The sun was still high above when they reached the far end of the island. Across the choppy waters of the bay they saw even more ruins, though it was obvious to all that the towers on the other shore had not been as majestic as those on the island.

Suddenly a fluttering noise caught the attention of the young woman who had been the one to suggest an exploration of the island. She turned toward the noise and saw the pages of what had once been known as a book being flipped by the slight breeze. She walked over to it and gingerly picked it up. It was large and flat, filled with faded pictures and small words written in a language that she, nor anyone else left on the planet, could not read.

Several of the other members of the tribe gathered around her as she slowly turned the large pages. Near the center of the book she pulled back a page and a collective gasp escaped the throats of the members of the tribe that surrounded her. The picture on the page had been deep enough in the book to have retained it's dark shades and brilliant hues. The ruins they stood among were intact in the picture, and the sea before them was dotted with large vessels. A slight, dark-haired man stared at the picture and then out to the wreckage-strewn water. His eyes registered his disbelief.

If there had been any doubts in the minds of the people that had set out to discover whether or not the legendary great city of splendor was no longer, they were now all erased. They had indeed read the old maps correctly, they had indeed discovered the great city of splendor.

And it was indeed in ruins.