City of Gondor

The Tower of the Guard sparkled as the morning sun rose, stretching her beams across its glimmering surface, a spectacular show of light and beauty. And Boromir inhaled a deep breath of the warm billowing wind, the flags of Minas Tirith flapping proudly in the breeze, high above the City of Kings.

Minas Anor, Tower of the Sun, indeed.

His footsteps echoed across the bastion as he looked past the Pelennor, imagining the lands protected by the White City.

Uncertainty riddled the travels to come, he thought, gazing toward Imladris.

Though, one thing consoled him.

This would always be home.