As I moved into the carnage, I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me. There was no color to be seen other than black and gray. Charred wood and ash covered the ground, giving the appearance that everything was in black-and-white, like on my Grandma GG's old TV.
Stepping up to one of the fallen trees, I could see a boot print in the side of the characoal trunk; Butch had been here.
"He was here," I whispered. The silence made me want to be quiet for some reason. "Where do you think he went?"
"Who knows?" Digger replies.
"Who cares?" Hunter adds.
Stitcher punches her sister in the arm. "Hunter, be nice," Stitcher chides. The older sister just smiled.
"Herder, are your wolves still with him?" Crafter asked.
"Of course," the young NPC replied with pride. "They will stay and protect Butch until..." He didn't finish the sentence, but we all knew what he meant: until death.
"Call to them," Crafter said.
Herder put his rectangular fingers to his mouth and whistled. The shrill sound cut through the silence like a razor-sharp sword. Instantly, barking could be heard off to the left. We ran in that direction, our hurried steps causing clouds of ash to rise up off the ground, hiding our feet and the ground from view.
The ground crunched under our boots as if it were fragile sheets of the finest crystal. Shards of reddish-brown glass flew in all directions, bouncing off our armor and adding to the dust and debris.
As I ran, I noticed the reddish hue to the sharbs and recognized it, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before. Putting aside the thought for a moment, I focused on following Stitcher as the young girl blazed a path through the devastated landscape.
Soon, we saw a group of low, white shapes materializing out of the gloom. As they neared, a taller figure began to emerge amidst the ghostly forms: it was Butch, surrounded by wolves.
"How could this happen?" Butch said. "This forest is completely destroyed."
"We can see that," Hunter replied.
"But look at the ground," he said.
"We can see that," Hunter replied.
"But look at the ground," he said.
I pused the piles of ash aside and saw that all of the ground had been fused into a dirty, reddish-brown glass. Moving farther into the devastation, I saw it had all been turned into glass...every last block of dirt. Whoever had done this had not only destroyed the trees and all the life within the forest, but they'd also destroyed the land itself so that it would never again support life.
Rage bubbled up from within me. This criminal act wasn't just about burning down a few trees; it was about the complete destruction of the land, just like in the last burned forest we'd found. Questions tumbled around in my head as I tried to figure out how it was done---and why.
The two destroyed forests were far apart...too far apart for an army to move from one to the other without being seen.
I knelt and scratched at the ground with the tip of my sword. It crumbled to dust. Scooping up the dust into a pile, I held it to my eyes. There was a familiar look to it that I still couldn't place. Reds and dark-brown and lighter-brown and different shades of pink...the colors almost triggered a memory in the back of my mind, but I just couldn't quite put it all together.
Frustrated, I kicked aside the pile of dust and turned to walk away, but as I did, something gold shone through the debris and caught my attention. Was it gold ore, or maybe a zombie's golden sword? My imagination swirled with possibilities as I stooped over for a closer look.
"What is this doing here?" I gasped as I reached out and picked up the golden object.