The city was built on another tree, one of knowledge that broke a race; the remaining tree offers eternal life, and is despised. Five times a day, the horn of the deep sounds, and five times a day, it receives no answer there.
I stand outside the old walls of the crumbling city. I wish I had known it before it was built, and the mighty men raised high its walls. I wish I had been there to see the dawn of the age of men. And I am glad I was not.