Morning in Ryugan was rather beautiful. Although it was more of a story of snow. From the corridor of the Grand Archive where he stood, he could see the middle sector of the city—of course, what he was able to see was only a section, but the view was enough. Buildings with wooden frames, warm-toned and heavy-roofed, their curved eaves designed to shed snow. Each structure was anchored on narrow ledges or supported by stilts driven into the mountain, giving the whole place a terraced, vertical look.
Snow blanketed the rooftops and gathered in the creases between homes, while plumes of wind swept fresh powder across the slopes.
The pathways were steep—more stairways and ladders than roads—zigzagging sharply between houses. Blue banners and cloth hung in a few places, adding tiny spots of color against the overwhelming blue-white of winter.
