As we made our way back, the landscape unfolded with charming scenes—small wooden bridges spanning trickling streams, narrow dirt paths winding through the woods, and serene lakes reflecting the moonlight as we neared Nyhar, the city etched into our memories. Nyhar, a vibrant tapestry of life, bustled with a diverse mix of people, from the affluent to those struggling to make ends meet. The city sprawled around a substantial mountain, and its architectural charm manifested in the form of wooden houses, each adorned with unique designs.

Navigating the city streets felt like traversing a maze, with twists and turns providing an advantage to those, like my brother and me, adept at swift movement. The heart of Nyhar, the mountain, cradled a colossal castle—the residence of none other than King Zonnis. The city's adoration for the king was palpable, and King Zonnis, with his intriguing persona, held the collective fascination of the inhabitants. Our journey continued with a heightened sense of anticipation, knowing that our path led directly to the royal castle.

As we reached the entrance of Nyhar, a handful of guards welcomed us. They were armed with spears made of gold, which made me wonder about the grandeur of the guards up at the castle. These gatekeepers meticulously checked everyone entering and leaving Nyhar, but their demeanor was surprisingly gentle, earning them the respect of the city's residents.

Approaching the gate, we halted beneath its towering arch. One of the guards, clad in gleaming metal armor that covered everything but his face, approached us. With a tone of authority, he inquired, "What brings you here?" Remy responded confidently, "We have a special delivery for the king," adding in a hushed tone, "we're bounty hunters." The guard nodded, "Very well, continue on the path to your right," granting us passage into the heart of the bustling city.

With a fluid motion, we dismounted our horses, and Remy effortlessly hoisted the unconscious woman over his shoulder. Continuing along the path that led us up the side of the mountain, we found ourselves flanked by guards stationed every 20 meters. The ascent granted us sweeping views of the city below, the hustle and bustle of Nyhar unfolding like a living tapestry.

As we neared the summit, the colossal gates of the castle came into view. A sense of awe overcame me, and I couldn't help but express it to Remy, "I can't get over how big this castle is." He nodded in agreement, "Yeah, me too. It's crazy big." The enormity of the structure dwarfed everything around, an imposing testament to the power and majesty it held. The massive castle doors swung open as we approached, revealing the grandeur within. From a distance, a voice rang out, asking, "Here for the king?"

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

My brother and I quickly shifted our gaze to the left, catching sight of an intriguing old man. He wore long white robes that flowed like a river, and a black beard framed his weathered face. His short black hair and glasses hinted at a quiet wisdom. "Yes, we are," I replied to his unspoken question. The old man nodded knowingly, "Good, he was expecting you. Follow me," he said, beckoning us to follow him into the castle.

Once inside, we found ourselves in a vast hallway adorned with ancient tapestries that seemed to tell stories of a forgotten era. Following the old man's lead, we climbed a colossal spiral staircase. Each step resonated with a deep thud, the grandeur of the castle becoming more apparent with every ascent. The walls whispered secrets, and the air felt charged with history.

Reaching the top, we stepped into the throne room, a cavernous space that reverberated with a sense of power. The room was guarded by about 50 stoic figures, their presence imposing. As my eyes scanned the room, they landed on eight individuals kneeling at the far end, near the throne. The gravity of the moment sank in—the hushed atmosphere, the towering guards, and the realization that we were on the threshold of meeting the king made me very nervous.

Drawing closer, the figures at the end of the room gradually came into focus. They were other bounty hunters, each holding an item or bounty. Their attention remained fixed on the throne, a precaution that hinted at the punishment they might face if they turned away. But the realisation dawned on me that we weren't the only one with a bounty hunt tonight, but the question is: why are we all gathered here? Does the king want something?

My brother Remy and I exchanged glances, silently understanding that we needed to be careful in this unfamiliar territory. Joining the line where the other bounty hunters knelt, we realised the old man's gaze was upon us. "Now kneel before the presence of the king," he commanded. I looked ahead at the throne, only to find it empty. My brother and I began to kneel, and as our faces turned downward, a palpable silence enveloped the room. The tension was so thick, I could almost hear it crackling in the air.

A creak echoed from the right side of the room, signaling the opening of a door. The sound was followed by the distinct closing of the door, and then came a series of resounding footsteps that reverberated through the otherwise silent room. My attention snapped to my brother, and in a hushed whisper, I conveyed, "That's him," my expression a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

The footsteps drew closer, and soon, the king emerged into view, striding purposefully toward the throne. With deliberate movements, he took his seat. The room remained hushed, and it felt as though the king's gaze swept over everyone present. After a few tense seconds, the old man spoke up, breaking the silence, "Everyone bow down in the presence of King Zonnis." Following his command, all the guards in the room promptly bowed, and we, already kneeling, instinctively bowed down further.

In the wake of this ceremonial acknowledgment, King Zonnis finally spoke, his first words resonating through the room, "Thank you all for coming." The weight of the moment hung in the air, and the gravity of being in the presence of the king settled upon us.