The moment John's boots touched the white stone bridge, he instinctively slowed his pace.
The bridge was unlike anything he had crossed before.
Each stone had been cut with remarkable precision, fitting together so perfectly that centuries of use had left barely a crack between them. Ornate lamp posts lined both sides of the bridge, their metalwork shaped like intertwining vines. Although they were unlit beneath the morning sun, John could imagine how beautiful they would look after sunset.
The Ardent River rushed beneath them, its deep blue waters sparkling in the sunlight. Barges loaded with grain drifted toward the city's docks, while smaller fishing boats returned with their morning catch. The river bustled almost as much as the roads.
"It feels more like entering a kingdom than a city," John said quietly.
Aerion nodded.
"That is exactly what Valenor wishes every visitor to feel."
Lythriel leaned over the bridge railing, watching one of the cargo barges glide beneath them.
