As the carriage exited the shimmering blue portal, Emma leaned against the window, her eyes adjusting to the new view. Gone were the rolling meadows and celestial beauty of Lily Valley. Instead, they were greeted by the structured landscape of a small town nestled amidst the hills.
The sun continued its descent, casting long shadows across the town, which was a peculiar mix of modernity and magic. Cobblestone streets stretched out in neat grids, lined with houses that, at first glance, seemed identical. Each house was built from polished stone, their roofs crowned with shimmering tiles that reflected the sunlight like fragments of a mirror. Strange, softly blinking lights floated above the street corners, suspended in mid-air without visible support.
“Where are we?” Emma asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she glanced at Vivian.
“This is Wellington Town,” Vivian replied, stepping out of the carriage gracefully. “It’s a small resort town where travelers can rest and refresh before continuing their journey. We’ll be stopping here for about fifteen minutes.”
Emma nodded, stepping down from the carriage with a mixture of excitement and caution. Their driver disembarked as well, tipping his hat as he murmured something about buying a drink.
The air here felt different—heavier, almost mechanical, with an undercurrent of subtle magic humming through it. Unlike the lively bustle of Windfield, Wellington Town had an almost somber atmosphere. The streets were eerily quiet despite the number of people walking about. Most of them kept their heads down, focused on their tasks, their faces etched with an air of seriousness.
Emma took it all in as she walked beside Vivian. The blinking streetlights emitted faint magical energy, their glow pulsing in a rhythmic pattern. Some shops displayed signs written in a script Emma couldn’t read, while others showcased glowing glyphs above their entrances.
“Let’s grab something to eat,” Vivian said, placing a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
They wandered down the street, Emma stealing glances at the people they passed. A man in a long trench coat moved quickly, a briefcase in hand, muttering under his breath as if rehearsing a spell. A group of women in identical emerald cloaks whispered to one another as they walked, their expressions unreadable. Even the shopkeepers seemed reserved, exchanging goods with customers without so much as a smile.
“Everyone looks so serious,” Emma remarked quietly, earning a knowing nod from Vivian.
After a short walk, they arrived at a restaurant with an elaborate sign hanging above the entrance. The letters glowed softly, spelling out Gyepo in elegant, swirling script. The door was framed with enchanted ivy that shimmered faintly as they passed through.
The inside of the restaurant was a blend of rustic charm and magical innovation. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, engraved with glowing runes that pulsed in time with the soft music playing in the background. The walls were adorned with enchanted paintings that shifted scenes every few moments—one moment displaying a serene beach, the next a bustling cityscape.
Tables and chairs were made from dark, polished wood, each seat cushioned with velvet that adjusted to fit the sitter's comfort. Floating orbs of light hung above the tables, their glow dimming or brightening based on the mood of the diners. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of spiced meats, fresh herbs, and baked bread.
Emma’s gaze wandered to the other patrons. A family of four sat at a corner table, their laughter subdued but warm. Nearby, a pair of heroes clad in matched armor shared a hearty meal, their weapons propped against the wall.
Vivian led Emma to the counter where orders were being placed. Behind the counter stood a tall woman with black hair braided intricately, her eyes glowing faintly with a golden hue. Her uniform was neat, adorned with embroidered symbols that seemed to hum with power.
Vivian stepped forward, exchanging a brief glance with the woman before speaking in a language Emma didn’t recognize. The words were fluid and melodic, almost like a song, yet layered with a subtle authority that hinted at its magical nature.
Emma tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes as she watched the interaction. What language was that? And why had she never heard her mother speak it before?
The black-haired woman nodded, responding in the same tongue, before turning to prepare their order.
Emma’s mind raced with questions as she glanced at her mother, but she held her tongue, deciding to wait until they were seated. For now, the allure of the unknown hung heavily in the air, adding yet another layer of mystery to their journey.