Partis Island, the New City of Silver.
Derrick Berg, one of the elders of the Council of Seven, a young Unshadowed, and the Sun of the Tarot Club, stood on a platform jutting out halfway up the Twin Towers and looked down.
Everywhere he looked, enormous buildings lined the streets. Giants at least two meters tall, some even three or four meters, walked through the streets and alleys, some hurrying, others taking their time. The fragrance wafting from bakeries, the scrape of metal from workshops, and the conversations of passersby wove together into a vibrant song that echoed beneath the clear skies of the New City of Silver.
Derrick loved resting on this platform. Not only could he overlook the entire city, but he could also bask in sunlight from morning until evening, giving him a sense of being favored by a god.
A god truly is watching over us... he thought, lowering his gaze. In a crack beside a stone support at the platform's edge, he saw several strands of black grass, as fine as hair, swaying in the wind.
This was black-faced grass, which had given the City of Silver its last hope during more than two thousand years in the Forsaken Land of the Gods. But they no longer needed it. The food produced by nearby Partis, the Dream City, was more than enough to feed the several thousand residents of the New City of Silver, whose appetites far exceeded those of ordinary people. All they had to do in return was accept employment performing physical labor, or learn farming and livestock-rearing skills, integrating into that prosperous city.
Of course, some residents had already traveled to more distant Bayam, or joined fleets sailing to the Southern Continent, seeking more ways to earn gold pounds for the New