The Last Resort

My water has run dry. The sun beats down overhead.   The only respite to be found is in the shadow of these ruined gateways. From here, I can see the rooftops of New Corsica. Maybe I should just return to town, before my strength gives out.   No, no, I won’t give my mentor the satisfaction of another self-righteous lecture. There must be something about this scribbled shape, like a fishhook. Open the way. Open the way…