Once Upon A Time... But Not Anymore -

Elias reached into his pocket. He didn’t have much, but he had a single, dented coin from the Old Days. He held it up, the metal catching a stray beam of the dying sun. For a moment, it flashed with the brilliance of a thousand lanterns.

“I know the stories,” the girl replied, finally looking at him. Her eyes were weary, far too old for her face. “But stories don’t light the lamps.” Once Upon a Time... But Not Anymore

Elias stepped to the fountain. He looked at the gargoyles, their stone faces worn smooth by time. He didn’t toss the coin. Instead, he placed it carefully in the palm of the girl’s hand. Elias reached into his pocket

Elias walked the cobblestones of Weaver’s Row. He remembered the smell of cinnamon and the sound of lutes. Now, the only scent was damp earth and the only sound was his own boots. He reached the central plaza, where the Great Fountain of Clarity once flowed with water so blue it looked like liquid sapphire. For a moment, it flashed with the brilliance

A young girl sat on the edge of the dry, cracked basin. She was drawing in the dust with a charred stick.