The network of roads that led to Azmar was frail and no longer able to support anything or anybody without the risk of collapsing under their weight. Gardens grew beyond their artificial borders and began claiming parts of the streets and houses.
Some doors were shut tightly, others were broken down. Some forcefully, others had simply collapsed under their own weight as the elements continued to eat away at them. Many roofs had collapsed and in some cases had taken the entire building with it. Others looked in decent shape and were simply dirty and filled with bird nests.
Azmar , once home to thousands of families and counting had been forsaken and left to rot alone. The air which was once filled with the many sounds of a growing community had grown eerily quiet. The silence was only broken up by the occasional animal sound and gust of wind.
The main hotel has had a few esteemed guests over the years, but it was now decrepit and starting to collapse bit by bit. A few animals still dare to wander here, but most wisely stay away from the fragile walls.
You couldn’t help but feel lost in this town now, even if you knew exactly where you were. It was a lonely place with only distant memories of what once was. But there was something oddly poetic about nature reclaiming what was once theirs to begin with.
The main road that led to and from Wintervale was now a network of vines, grasses and roots that had taken hold of every bit they could get. Dust and debris littered the roads within town while unkempt gardens are cluttered with forsaken possessions.
Many doors had collapsed as rot ate away their edges. The open doorways that were once perhaps very welcoming were now an eerie and unwelcoming sight. Many buildings stood precariously upright despite looking like they had no means to do so. It’d take just a slight nudge of a strong wind to tipple them all over.
Wintervale , once a peaceful and growing community was but a hollow shell of its former self. Silence had taken the place of the sound of playing children, talking neighbors and the sounds of a working community. The silence was deafening.
In an almost sick sense of irony the museum, once home to relics from the past discovered and recovered by archaeologists from around the world, was now once again lost and forgotten. Waiting to be found by those who come next.
Street after street of abandoned homes made for a terrifying thought. Each house was once a home, a home belonging to a family and now there was only emptiness. But there was an awful feeling of hopelessness you couldn’t escape from. Even if those who lived here returned too much had been lost already and it’d never be the same again.