The low growl rumbling from behind me caused the towering knight to take a step back, jerking his gaze toward the dragon. Verspera, however, remained still. It was Nida who took a step forward, her eyes narrowed and her feline fur bristling, starting at the tips of her ears and rippling down to the end of her tail like a wave of static. Each step she took toward the overbearing knight was palpable with rage.

The guards and knights around us raised their swords and spears, pointing them at Nida, who stalked forward like a tiger, uncaring of the threats surrounding her. I was reminded once again that Nida wasn’t a normal warrior. Under the Desire System, she had long since gained power equal to a bronze core. Her confidence was no doubt caused by her power levels closing in on the silver realm.

And unlike me, she wasn’t injured. With the rest she’d undergone, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Desire System's boons had restored her to full strength.

“Fraud?” The tigerkin’s words were barely above a whisper, yet they reverberated in her chest with an unsettling rumble. Though she moved slowly, she somehow closed the distance between herself and the knight with unnatural speed, her corded muscles flexing as if ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

EleVame stepped forward, holding out a placating hand toward Nida, his palm facing her in a gesture to stop. He pushed the large knight aside, staring him down until the man voluntarily took a few steps back.

“I apologize for the outburst, Lady Lilliana. There have been some unbecoming rumors regarding the events in Sealrite recently. Regardless, Sir Eichinger’s actions are unwarranted and disrespectful toward noble blood. A complaint will be filed with the Head Knight upon our return.”

Nida snorted, disbelief clear in her golden eyes now laced with red flecks. She bared her teeth at the knights, making sure they saw the vicious points of her canines.

“Enough,” I commanded. To her credit, Nida snapped her mouth shut. Though her muscles remained tense, she moved toward Nasq, who aggressively whispered at her lumbering figure. I saw her roll her eyes at the sorcerer before I turned back to EleVame, ignoring the belligerent fool all but begging for death. “Let us proceed into the city. We have had quite the testing experience.” I motioned toward my left shoulder but found it covered by a thick brown wool cloak draping over me like a blanket. I raised an eyebrow at Nida and Nasq, who just pointed fingers at the driver.

The knights looked confused as to why I was pointing at a cloak when speaking of hardships. I chuckled but didn’t deign to elaborate, waving them forward.

“Before that, my lady,” EleVame said, casting a pointed look at Vespera. “What kind of beast have you brought to the entrance of our city?"

"It is an evolved wyvern,” I lied, guessing none of them had ever actually seen a dragon before.

“It’s massive,” called one of the wyvern riders, his mount clawing at a mound of wet grass, angry and anxious eyes directed at Vespera.

EleVame observed Vespera a moment longer, skepticism clear on his face. Eventually, he turned his gaze back to me. “It cannot be allowed in the city. I hope you understand.”

I clicked my tongue but didn’t protest. While I would prefer to keep the dragon by my side to keep an eye on her, nothing good would come from having a wyvern in the body of a dragon padding about inside a populated city.

Well, not unless I wanted to destroy it.

“That is fine. Let us be on our way,” I said, concluding the conversation.

EleVame nodded. “As you wish, my lady.”

The knight named Eichinger glared at Nida as EleVame led our group toward the city gates, wyverns following just to the side. Our mysterious driver did not join, silently choosing instead to remain in the grasslands with his two wyverns and the unmoving carriage.

Vespera, similarly, did not bother doing more than cracking an eye open to stare at me leaving before resuming her nap.

Can she already understand human languages?

The mile or so distance remaining to Elyndor passed swiftly, especially when the mounted knights approached with their armored horses. The five of us were quickly brought steeds of our own to finish the short stretch of grasslands left to reach the city gates, which loomed overhead, casting long shadows that turned the green fields black.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

The gates were towering monoliths of dark iron and stone, stretching high into the midday sky and reinforced with intricate latticework of shimmering silver hieroglyphs.

“Are those runes?” I asked Nasq, who rode a small white horse to my right.

“Yeah,” he replied, though I could tell his attention was lost in the magic letters. “I see all sorts of them—runes of repulsion, runes of elemental magic. I even see a rune of space.”

My head snapped toward the mage at those words. Rune of Space. There were Runes of Space? I wanted to question Nasq but held my tongue for the moment.

“Open the gates,” EleVame shouted. Seconds later, a loud, grating sound filled the air as the twin doors began to open. Above the set of ancient doors was a grand arch crowning the entrance, inlaid with a mosaic of brilliant stones of countless colors glittering in the sunlight. The air around the gates hummed faintly with the remnants of what felt like old warnings—forgotten magics that continued to shield the city from unwelcome invaders.

Even someone as inept and new to mana as I was should be able to feel the overwhelming sense of very old, very powerful magic entangled with the city’s very existence.

There must have been something telling in my expression because EleVame chuckled softly, sweeping his arm in front of the city as we passed the gates as if presenting an act from a theater troupe. “Welcome to the oldest city in Lysoria, my lady.”

“Is it much older than the royal city?” I asked aloud, only half intending for EleVame to hear.

“Indeed it is,” EleVame replied, his otherwise stoic expression brightening with a small smile of pride. “Elyndor has existed for centuries, predating even the formation of our great kingdom.”

“That’s because it was created by elves,” Nasq said, his gaze still distant.

“No, it wasn’t, you fucking Glimmer Rat,” Eichinger snarled, barking with mocking laughter. Nasq froze, his attention snapping back to the present as mana swirled around him with more rage than I’d ever seen in the mage before. If the knight noticed, he didn’t care. “Do you really think you tree-huggers could build a city this prosperous? This magnificent? You may not have noticed, but nothing here is made of trees, and we’re not in the forest.”

I sighed. “Sir EleVame, while I am a patient woman, I believe I mentioned that I would not tolerate disrespect. Does your fellow knight not understand that insulting mine is insulting me? Or does he simply believe he has the right and authority to do so?” EleVame opened his mouth to answer, but I waved off whatever protest or words he wanted to say. “I do not need words. Sir Eichinger has insulted the direct subordinates of House Alistar’s primary successor and the primary successor herself—not once, but twice. Either you will dole out punishment now, or I will do so when I please.”

“Apologies again, Lady Lilliana. However, Sir Eichinger is a free knight volunteering while House Knights are out on duty. Neither I nor your ladyship has the authority to punish a free knight. You may, of course, file a complaint with the House’s Head Knight to relieve Sir Eichinger from duty. Whatever politics are involved in that affair, I do not know.”

I stared at the knight for a long moment before shifting that same glare to Eichinger, allowing a small, ominous smile to part my lips ever so slightly. “I see. Then I suppose we will have to go with the latter option.” I didn’t say anything after that, but Nasq seemed to realize my words were a death sentence, and the elf visibly relaxed.

Most of the guards remained at the gates, though a few accompanied the wyvern riders and knights into the city. Enclosed within the city’s outer walls of ancient granite and shimmering runes were a realm of color and perpetual movement that put even many places back on Ordite to shame.

The people laughed and shouted, most wearing large smiles on their faces as they bustled about on their midday errands. From the moment I stepped foot within the city walls, the air felt different—thick with the scent of fresh bread from bakeries, roasted meats from the merchant stalls frequented by long lines of customers, and the lingering hint of wafting incense that smelled of roses and ash.

The avenues of Elyndor were grand, lined with towering buildings of pale marble, their facades trimmed with intricate carvings of beasts and figures of apparent renown. Above the streets, banners hung from windows and balconies, fluttering rapidly in the heavy breeze, their deep blues, crimsons, and purples brightening the multitudes of color around us.

“Are those banners all of House Alistar?” I asked EleVame, who shook his head.

“No, my lady. They are subordinate Houses, like mine, but distinct from House Alistar. They represent the city’s main houses of the wealthiest merchants, leading noble families, and those of ancient blood that make up our city council,” the knight answered, his voice tentative yet steady. He waved to a few passing knights, motioning me forward down a wide street. As we moved, those passing nearby turned to glance at me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and trepidation. They all scurried off after only a few moments, apparently not wanting to spend too long ogling the new noble. My horse whinnied slightly at the sudden influx of sights, sounds, and scents that flooded their air—children laughing as they played, merchants calling out their wares, and the delicious aroma of baked goods wafting from a nearby bakery. Despite the overwhelming sensory stimulation, my steed remained steadfast, its training evident as it adjusted to the lively atmosphere without another hint of hesitation. “We will continue on horseback for only a few moments longer. Only the Patriarch and Matriarch of House Alistar may ride into the Silver Keep; all others must be on foot.”

It didn’t take long to spot what EleVame had referred to as the Silver Keep. The difference was stark between the pleasant, bustling streets of Elyndor and the epitome of wealth that was the Silver Keep.

The keep stood as the clear crowning jewel of Elyndor, its presence an aggressive reminder of the city’s ancient power and unmatched wealth. Rising a handful of miles from the city’s heart, the keep’s soaring towers pierced the sky, their white stones almost glowing in the sunlight, as if they had been carved from the moon itself.

The outer walls of the Silver Keep, unlike those of Elyndor, were adorned with delicate patterns of vines and runes interwoven with intricate silver filigree woven perfectly into the stone. Even from our distant view, the keep seemed to radiate an ethereal glow. Amidst the glory of the keep, a singular spire towered over the rest, its peak crowned with a silver-plated dome that cast the city in warm rays of silver sunlight that tingled against my skin.

“That,” EleVame pointed to the crowned silver tower, “is the Duke’s Spire.”