Leonidas followed Tarnys toward the closed gates of Dawnhaven in silence. The last half-mile of their journey had passed as such, and the elf had seemingly elected to leave Leonidas to his thoughts when their conversation had tapered off following the final approach toward Dawnhaven.

The town was even more beautiful from closer, and he spent several minutes of the final approach just drinking in the beauty of the town in the subtle pre-dawn light. The path to the southern gate, as Tarnys called it, was smoothed and paved in a manner which Leonidas immediately recognized as magical.

No earth machinery could make pathways that were exactly symmetrical from edge to edge, and from what Tarnys had told him, the Haelfenn had been skeptical at best of human technology. When combined with the fact that Twin Lakes had likely been a town of less than 3,000 people even in the 2030s when Leonidas had vanished, there was no doubt that there would be sparse amounts of true industrial machinery.

“How were the roads made?” Leonidas asked at last, with a glance at Tarnys while they walked.

“A mix of magic and Aetherium Store mechanics,” the elf responded with a glance over, and then a nod down to the smooth stone underfoot. “We used elementalists to carve out the pathways, and then the Princess used some of the royal treasury to purchase the high-grade manastone we’re walking on.”

“Manastone?” Leonidas asked.

“It’s a material that grows stronger in mana-saturated environments, such as a freshly Integrated world. The ambient magic it will absorb will keep it solid for decades, if not well over a century. It’s exorbitantly expensive, but worth the cost. Roads are the key to any developing nation, after all.”

“Are the streets in Dawnhaven made from the same thing?”

“Yes.” Tarnys said with clear pride. “The Princess insisted.”

“Not the Prince?” Leonidas asked carefully.

“His Highness…” Tarnys trailed off with a wary glance. “The Prince allows his sister to handle such matters while he deals with the affairs of beasts and roving bandits.”

“Bandits?” Leonidas asked with genuine surprise.

“Not all Terrans adapted to the Incursion with civility, Leonidas.” Tarnys said grimly. “Many of your people, despite our best efforts and overtures, see us as invaders to be wiped out. The Humanity Alliance is not relegated solely to the south of these former ‘United States’, as your people called them. There are settlements all around us for miles that detest our existence. Many are human, but some are also not.”

“Is that why you attacked us on the hill?”

“Other than to try to gather intelligence? Yes. The moment we saw the Iron Duke, we knew there would be conflict. That man is notorious for his massacres of non-Terran natives.”

Leonidas felt a leaden weight settle in his gut at Tarnys’ words, and he suppressed a grimace. It was very hard to imagine his grandfather as a mass murderer, though if he truly didn’t see the ‘fantasies’ as he called them as people, then Leonidas could believe Artur Paendrag to be ruthless enough to seek their elimination. His grandfather had never been a man of passivity, and if he were truly enhanced and empowered by the System, then his training, knowledge, and personality would make him a terrifying enemy.

“What about the others?”

“The Archmagus and Sword of Atlanta are known to be reasonable, but we couldn’t take the risk that the Coalition and Alliance had joined forces—especially not with the Reaper’s Shadow there.” Tarnys said with a shake of his head, and a shrug of his shoulders. “She, of all of them, was the one we were most wary of. The Nomad Clans are infamous for their brutality and power, and we couldn’t afford to let her go uncontested if she were scouting Dawnhaven for a raid.”

“You weren’t concerned that attacking her would incite the Nomads?”

“The Nomads only understand force. Either we captured or killed her, or she left and informed them that we have teeth. Either way, it was necessary.”

Leonidas nodded at the logic, and followed Tarnys’ lead as they finally approached the immense gates to the town—and the silver-armored guards standing sentinel atop them. When the Dagger-Master approached the gates, a challenge was called down with a hint of tension.

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“{What news, Duskguard?}” the sentinel called down in Haelfenn, which Leonidas mentally translated to English. “{You bring many injured, and too many dead. Why do you have a Terran with you?}”

“{He was a prisoner we kept alive for information! He’s been isolated, apparently, for a long time. I suspected he was incarcerated when the Incursion happened!}”

That’s a good rationale, actually. Perhaps I should use that, though if I’m caught in the lie…

“{Incarcerated? That would make him a criminal! Are you sure about this, Dagger-Master?}”

“{He does not appear to pose a threat to us at present. I have brought him to the city for the Dusk-Lord to evaluate personally. At his level, he is no more threat to us than the smallest of our children!}”

“{Hmph. True enough.}” the sentinel responded derisively. “{Very well, Dagger-Master! You may enter, and please ensure that the Terran goes straight to the Dusk-Lord. It would be bad if he tried to blend in with the other natives and incited them.}”

“{Of course. My thanks, Watch-Warden.}”

The other Haelfenn lifted his fist in acknowledgement, and the immense gates—steel, Leonidas noted with surprise—slid smoothly inward to admit his impromptu escorts to the town proper.

Beyond the gates, what looked like farmers, gatherers, and eclectic parties of soldiers and adventurers both were lined up in orderly lines on the right side of the wide street.

Or left, technically, if looking at the gate from the inside. Perspective was annoying that way.

The crowds turned to watch them pass with interest and concern both, and the varied appearances of the elves struck Leonidas immediately. The vast majority were dark-haired, with green or brown or gold eyes, and even the occasional pair of striking blue. Their clothes were a mix of pseudo-modern designs, mixed with fantasy inspirations like gambesons, tunics, and even robes or togas in some cases.

A measure of ‘Terran’ fashion had also infiltrated, and he saw more than one elf in clothing that could have been taken out of a magazine for New York or Los Angeles tourism. Long coats, baggy pants, and even the occasional pair of sunglasses were present when they passed.

Leonidas found himself staring at the mish-mash of fashion, like a blend between modern chic and fantasy cosplay, with growing incredulity.

“The clothing—?”

“A consequence of integration. Your Terran fashions apparently took many of our distant peoples by storm, and have been popping up en masse in the Aetherium Store. This has given rise to a new ‘Neo-Terran’ fashion, which you see before you. Personally, I enjoy it, though I’ve been led to believe that many of your kin find it bewildering.”

“Yeah…” Leonidas said while staring at a particularly buxom red-haired elven woman in a sports bra and activewear leggings. “...can’t say it isn’t nice, though.”

The woman turned to look at him, and her green eyes narrowed on him in consideration as he, Tarnys, and their Lance passed by.

Tarnys snorted upon seeing what he was staring at.

“You’re still technically a prisoner, Leonidas. Keep your eyes forward and stay close,” Tarnys advised him firmly while they walked, though he didn’t seem to have been offended by Leonidas’ admiration of the redhead. “You are a new face, and for all that my kin may pretend to see you as all the same, we are keen observers. You are too tall and too good looking to blend in easily, and your clothes will make you stand out.”

“How far is it to the Dusk-Lord?”

“He resides in the Moonstone Keep, in the Sunset District of the town. If we follow the main roads, it will take us perhaps twenty minutes to reach him. The greater concern is whether or not we encounter the Blues.”

“The what?” Leonidas asked in confusion.

Tarnys glanced at him and muttered an oath under his breath, but continued in a lower voice regardless. “I am only saying this to protect myself as much as you, Leonidas, so do not mistake this for friendship.”

“Jesus, dude.” Leonidas muttered.

“There are two factions in Dawnhaven: the reds, led by the Princess, and the blues led by the Prince. While we have no true conflict between the sides, there is a… power struggle, of sorts, between the siblings. The Princess is the elder of the two, but the Prince believes that as a man, he is the better suited to rule. The blues have been subtly attempting to ensure that only the Prince is able to complete the Rite of Ascension.”

Leonidas glanced at the Haelfenn around them, and Tarnys smiled slyly.

“We are all reds, Leonidas, though we are outnumbered. The Dusk-Lord and Dawn-Lord are both reds, though there is a vast number among the Dawnguard that identify as blues.”

“What about the Royal Guard?” Leonidas asked softly.

“Ostensibly neutral, though that’s surface-level.” Tarnys replied after several moments’ of hesitant silence. Clearly the elf didn’t want to divulge too much, but couldn’t see the harm in giving the knowledge. Very likely it was just more information he could have picked up at a tavern, or the Adventurers’ Guild itself. “The Guard are, mostly, blues. That is part of the problem. If the Royal Guard decides they want to take you to His Highness, I cannot do anything to stop it from happening.”

“And I take it that would be bad for me?” Leonidas asked while they walked through the paved, colorful streets of the sprawling town.

“Yes, Leonidas, it would be bad.” Tarnys confirmed. “Lethally so.”

“Wonderful,” Leonidas said sourly.

Things just kept getting better and better.