I was there, on the ramparts, that morning.
I had been confined to the castle for months now. They'd closed the doors, left the people in the city to starve. And here I was, overlooking this part of the Azur-Ka, the streets still bare but for the odd soul. The sun was but a shadow on the horizon.
I felt sick. So many deaths as of late, and not because of the war. Because we couldn't feed the people. Because we failed. There was no land to conquer, no place to expand to farm more. And here I was, blessed by my birth, by my station, still well fed. But that would soon change.
Supplies in the castle were dwindling. The news spread fast amongst us nobles. There was but a week left. And then we would find ourselves trapped here, with nothing to eat. Finally, our station would mean nothing anymore, and our fate would be sealed. I awaited that day with a strange mix of dread and resignation.
I still remember. I looked at the main gate, and there were tens of bodies, piled on the door. Poor souls had tried protesting, hungry, sick. They died there.
The sun was coming up in a moment. The Azur-Ka, the city, stretched as far as my eyes could see. The first rays of light bounced on the maze of streets and buildings.
Then it came.
I felt the gust of wind, sudden, strong. And then, as the sun was coming up, I saw it. The wave of violet haze engulfing everything. It took seconds for it to reach our castle. But the ramparts where high. The wave crashed on our walls. A sudden silence befell the city. And then the screams started.
These screams. Still today, I hear them. a whole world, dying. And here I was, on the ramparts, overlooking the destruction of all I knew.