The descent into the valley took nearly an hour. As the road broadened, the sounds of the capital began to swell—tower bells chiming high above the city, wagon wheels clattering over stone, voices echoing in a dozen different tongues. Even the air felt different here: warmer, drier, alive with an undercurrent of mana that brushed against the skin like static.

  The outer walls of Lumaire rose ahead like pale stone cliffs. Nearly sixty feet tall and carved with ancient runework, they pulsed with slow, steady light—each surge of blue-white glow moving through the stone like a heartbeat. The gates themselves were massive slabs of silversteel engraved with sigils that shimmered whenever the guards performed a check.

  Even from yards away, Eis could feel the enchantments woven through the structure. The mana pressed lightly against her, curious, almost inquisitive, as if the city itself were assessing who approached.

  Ronan rode ahead and raised a bronze token marked with a sword wrapped in flame—his Guild insignia. A gate captain spotted it immediately and motioned the group toward a faster-moving inspection line reserved for registered adventurers.

  Lira turned in her saddle with a grin.

  “Perks of traveling with a guild veteran.”

  Kael’s smirk was sharper.

  “As long as she doesn’t get us flagged for having a strange aura.”

  Eis lifted a brow at him. “Strange aura?”

  He nodded toward her gloved hand.

  “You are..eye-catching. City wards will notice that.”

  Before she could respond, the line moved.

  Two guards in polished armor stepped forward. Their weapons glowed faintly, wrapped in soft mana to avoid accidental discharge around the wards. One guard held out a crystalline plate no larger than a hand.

  “Identity verification,” he said. “Touch the crystal. It will record your mana signature for the census.”

  Eis glanced once at Ronan. He gave the smallest nod.

  She placed her gloved palm on the plate.

  The crystal flared immediately—far brighter than expected. For a heartbeat, the crystal flickered between colors, as if struggling to understand what it sensed. The guard tensed, grip tightening on his spear.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  Then the glow stabilized. The plate dimmed, returning to the expected blue hue.

  “All clear,” the guard said, though his eyes lingered on Eis longer than on anyone else.

  She stepped through the gates without a word.

  The sight on the other side made her pause.

  The city unfolded in sweeping terraces of white marble, azure glass, and flowing threads of magic that ran openly along raised conduits. Floating lifts drifted between buildings. Lanterns hovered midair like tame stars. The streets teemed with movement: scholars in long robes, smiths carting ore, mercenaries boasting loudly at tavern doors, children chasing familiars shaped from light.

  The scent of bread, ink, smoke, and ozone mingled in the air.

  Lira inhaled deeply, bright-eyed.

  “Smells like home.”

  Kael muttered beside her, “And taxes.”

  Ronan tilted his head back, taking in the skyline.

  “First stop is the Adventurer’s Guild. We’ll file our report on the ambush, hand over the ruin shard, and get you proper registration papers, Eis.”

  Hearing her name spoken here—within the capital’s hum of magic and life—felt strangely grounding, as if it belonged in this place despite its foreignness.

  As they walked deeper into the city, Eis felt eyes follow her. Her controlled movements, her calm presence, the faint mana hum that always surrounded her—all of it attracted quiet attention. Curious glances. Cautious ones. A few intrigued.

  She kept her posture neutral, gaze steady.

  The Guild’s main hall stood near the city’s heart—an immense structure of white stone reinforced with black steel frames. Crystals floated above the roofline like stationary stars, casting soft light over the courtyard. The guild crest—a sword wrapped in flame—was carved above the arched entrance.

  Chatter, laughter, and clinking armor spilled through the doorway.

  Inside, the hall stretched wide and tall, its mosaic floor depicting ancient battles and mythical beasts. Quest boards covered the walls. Clerks hustled between counters. Adventurers traded news and rumors with animated gestures. The air shimmered with purpose.

  Lira sighed with contentment.

  “Feels good to be back.”

  Kael wandered off toward the bounty counter.

  “I’ll see if we can cash the bandit report.”

  Ronan remained beside Eis, his expression measured.

  “When the report’s done, we’ll get you a temporary Guild pass,” he explained. “You’ll need it to move freely through the inner districts.”

  Then, with a faint smirk:

  “You’ll fit right in here. Just try not to catch too much attention.”

  The Guild thrummed with life—a place of beginnings, of crossroads, of stories.

  It felt as though the world had been waiting for her to reach this point.