A stone hall stretches on for miles, ending at a raised platform where once a throne stood. Bathed in the yellow light of the sun, only shards remain to show the blue and green stained glass that once filled a window, also lost to time. The white stone wall, fallen away ages ago, lays scattered in the overgrowth, the ruins faded from rainwater, snow, and wind but there is still a story to be told. Soft footsteps on shattered stone, rain dripping into shallow puddles; once a king and his court drank, danced, and ate here. Once they plotted war and peace, wed and died; but now only the wind whispers here. Now only the elements call it home. The story is not over though, not yet. Not while the walls still stand.