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The Hanging Gardens are withering.

Dark curses infect the very leaves, leaving them brown and lifeless. It is as if the plagues raining on Sophanem are reflecting on the former greenery.

A terrible sign. I fear for the worst. I fear the future of our once great city.

I do not believe myself a seer; a mere student of the art of observation I am. I look upon Menaphos and see wasteful opulence where there as once innovation, war where diplomacy would suffice. Isolation when we need more than ever to trade and to interact.

I agreed once upon a time, agreed with their ignorant fears.

Perhaps that is why our gods and goddesses have abandoned us and only now are we starting to comprehend the impact of our failings.

If we cannot find in ourselves to open our gates again, I fear that we would become as if sand and crumble, mere dust in the annals of history.

- Excerpt of Saa Akila's Journal

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