As they weave through the crowds, Melchior points out the various amenities at the magiStation—cafeterias, magical supply shops, and quiet areas for meditation. Absinthe's gaze flickers between the students, who seem both familiar and foreign, and the station's vast offerings. He notices a particular shop that catches his attention, one that specializes in magical artifacts. The window display showcases ancient tomes, ornate staves, and numerous trinkets that glimmer with an enchanting aura.

"I wouldn't mind taking a look at those artifacts later, Mel," Absinthe murmurs, intrigued.

Melchior nods, distracted by a nearby clock, the hands inching closer to the exam's commencement.

They stop by a brick column as Absinthe digs into the pillar's shadow, procuring a leather pouch.

He peeks inside and counts the dozens of gold coins, each engraved with a portrait of the king, Lused au Therasia. Where or when Father got a hold of Orthodox currency, they have no clue.

"Let's grab some food beforehand then," Absinthe suggests, stuffing the pouch in his trouser pocket.

They step out of the station, leering backwards as a carriage pulled by an animal passes by.

"What the hells is that? Where are their horses?" Absinthe whispers to Melchior, noticing that many of these carriages are being pulled by the same, bizarre animal.

"Didn't you keep up with your studies? It's a torsela, their six legs make them more efficient and comfortable for work."

Absinthe doesn't really know how to feel about it. The torsela's horns are adorned with ribbons, probably to make it less… intimidating. While they may not have the same grace as the Salinger family's horses, it would do just fine as a war animal.

As they walk, the torsela-drawn carriages hurry by, ferrying students to the exam venue. Absinthe's gaze follows the creatures, his thoughts lingering on their unusual appearance. Melchior nudges him, and they continue their search for a decent eatery.

It's a little warmer in the East, causing Melchior to flap his finely tailored undertunic in an attempt to cool himself off.

"Why don't you just take off that coat of yours, Mel?"

Melchior hesitates, thinking about it. "No. Father gave me this coat, and he gave you one too. Where is it?"

Absinthe rattles his suitcase, making a jingling sound. "In here, cuz it's hot, obviously."

A small frown emerges on Melchior's face as he begrudgingly removes his black and gold coat, the family colors of the Salinger Family. He tosses it to Absinthe. "Put this in your shadows. I don't have enough space in my luggage."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He nods with a smirk as he inconspicuously stuffs the coat in the shadows of his palm.

Eventually, the two try to get off the street, cooling off in the shade of a tree. They stand by a large river that cuts through the streets of the city. Their eyes watch a steamboat sail its way down the stream, carrying tons of cargo.

After the boat passes, the ground under their feet begins to rumble. Absinthe and Melchior raise their guards, but are quickly surprised as the stone tiles bordering the river extend across, creating an arch and a pathway to walk over.

Absinthe notices a man one-leg kneeling next to them, and his brown, calloused hands that were pressed into the ground. He stands up and calls out to the pedestrians waiting behind him. "The bridge is ready!"

The two brothers begin to walk over the river via the newly created stone bridge.

"Invoker of Sylvanero?" Melchior asks as he studies the stone below him.

"Mm… I don't think so. It might be an Invoker of a minor god instead, like Tannis, the god of roads and paths."

"If we're getting technical, it could even be the minor god Mortis, who's the god of passage."

Absinthe shrugs as he turns a corner into a small plaza with a fountain in the center.

"Orthodox Nations must always make it so complicated..."

As they enter the plaza, the sound of rushing water from the fountain creates a sense of serenity, a stark contrast to the bustling streets they just left behind. Absinthe's gaze is drawn to the statue of a regal figure at the center of the fountain, water cascading down its stone cloak. The inscription at the base of the statue reads: "Elyria, Goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge."

Melchior takes a deep breath, inhaling the sweet aroma of blooming flowers surrounding the fountain. "Ah, finally, some peace. We should find a spot to grab some breakfast. I'm starving."

The pair end up in front of a quaint cafe called the Fountain Luncheonette. "This place is pretty cute," Absinthe comments, glancing at his brother, "wanna eat here?"

"I could do with some breakfast," Melchior nods, pushing open the door. They're greeted with a relatively empty space, the tables and chairs only taken up by a small amount of people. The lamps emit a warm glow, making the cafe decently inviting. But the most prominent sight is probably the… fountain in the middle, a smaller replica of the one in the plaza center.

"…Is this normal in Orthodox culture? Maybe in the next restaurant we eat in there'll be-"

Before Absinthe can finish, a young lady greets them behind a wooden pulpit. "Good morning! Table for two?"

Absinthe nods, still intrigued by the miniature fountain, its gentle gurgling a soothing accompaniment to the murmurs of the few patrons. "Yes, please." The young lady smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and leads them to a cozy table by the window.

The two are seated in a booth bordering a corner, but they still have a full view of the fountain. The waitress hands the brothers menus and smiles. "Anything to drink for now?"

Absinthe glances at the menu, feeling glad that even across the continent they serve his favorite morning and afternoon tea. "May I have an Earl Grey?"

"Just an orange juice for me," Melchior orders.

"Sounds great." The waitress nods before moving away from the table.

"Orange juice, huh?" Absinthe comments, rapping his fingers on the table in a slight boredom.

"What's up with that? It's good for the eyes."

But Absinthe nudges Melchior as he notices the waitress pulling out two things from her apron, a glass and teacup. She stands in front of the fountain, scooping up its water with each cup.

"Dude, is she going to serve us that? Is it possible to mix up Earl Grey tea for fountain water?"

"Shut up, she's coming over," Melchior hushes as he tries to look away, pretending he wasn't staring.