The carriage slowed, its wooden wheels crunching against gravel as the treeline began to thin. The smell hit me first—fresh baked bread, smoke from chimneys, and something tangy in the air that reminded me of spice. After days of damp stone and rotting skeleton stench, it was almost intoxicating.
Then the trees broke apart completely, and I saw it.
The Kingdom of Lumen.
It wasn't what I expected. I thought of medieval castles, maybe something gray and heavy like the ones in history books. But Lumen was… alive. Gleaming white stone walls stretched toward the sky, their surfaces etched with glowing patterns—runes maybe, or just art meant to look like it. Sunlight danced off the surface as though the stone itself drank in the light and reflected it back. Towers spiraled upward, capped with golden spires sharp enough to spear the clouds.
And at the heart of it all stood the palace.
A structure so massive it made the surrounding city look like toy blocks, its highest tower piercing the horizon like it was trying to touch the sun itself.
I leaned out the carriage window, unable to stop staring. People bustled outside the gates—merchants unloading wagons, guards in polished silver armor scanning the crowd, children darting through their parents' legs while laughing. The place pulsed with life.
"You're gawking," Lumine said flatly beside me.
"Yeah, well," I muttered, pulling back inside, "when you drag someone out of a monster labyrinth and into a fantasy screensaver, gawking's kind of expected."
She didn't respond, just adjusted the white cloak draped around her shoulders. Typical.
The carriage rolled closer to the main gate, where guards were already stepping forward. Their armor wasn't just for show—intricate engravings ran along their breastplates, glowing faintly like the walls. One of them raised a hand, palm out, the universal 'halt.'
"Saintess Roseheart," the lead guard said, his voice tight with reverence. His gaze flicked toward me for half a second, suspicious, before snapping back to her. "You've returned."
Lumine inclined her head just slightly—barely enough to be polite. "I have. The Emperor will want to know at once."
"And the boy?" the guard asked, his tone cautious now.
"That is none of your concern," she said sharply.
The guard stiffened, bowed, and stepped aside without another word.
The gates opened.
And the city swallowed us whole.
The noise hit me first—vendors calling out, steel ringing against anvils from the blacksmith quarter, the chatter of people everywhere. Horses clopped past, dragging carts stacked with fruit the size of my head, while street performers sent sparks of magic into the air, drawing a cheering crowd.
I couldn't stop looking. Every building felt crafted rather than built, their white walls trimmed with vines of silver or painted murals that shifted in the light. Floating lanterns drifted lazily above some of the streets, glowing softly even though the sun was still high. It was like someone had taken a medieval city and slammed it together with a dream.
And yet, under all that beauty, there was order. Guards at every major crossroad, eyes sharp. People bowed or made small signs of respect when Lumine passed, whispers following her like wind chasing leaves.
"Is it always like this?" I asked.
"Loud? Crowded? Beautiful?" Lumine's tone was unreadable.
"Yeah. All of it."
She was silent for a moment, then: "This is peace. You'll learn to value it once you've seen places that don't have it."
I didn't push her. Something in her voice warned me not to.
The carriage wound deeper, toward the palace looming in the distance. For the first time since I landed in this world, since that cursed labyrinth and the endless cycle of deaths, I felt… small. Small, but maybe not powerless.
And the strangest part? Despite everything, part of me wanted to see more.
The carriage didn't head straight for the palace. Instead, it slowed as Lumine raised a hand, signaling the driver.
"We'll walk from here," she said, already pulling her cloak tighter around her.
"Walk? Why?" I asked, eyeing the literal mountain of white stone that was the palace in the distance. "That thing's not exactly next door."
"Because," she replied, stepping out before I could argue, "you need to see the Kingdom you've been dragged into. Otherwise you'll just stumble around like a fool."
Couldn't argue with that, I guess. I hopped out after her, nearly tripping as a pair of kids rushed past, chasing some sort of… glowing disc? No, wait—it was a coin-sized charm, spinning in the air while they laughed and batted at it like a toy.
Magic. Casual, everyday magic.
I blinked as the streets opened up around us. It was overwhelming.
To the left, a long row of market stalls spilled onto the cobblestones. Exotic fruits with pulsing veins of light, bottles of glittering liquid, cloth so fine it shimmered like water in the sun. A merchant shouted about charms that guaranteed luck in gambling; another claimed to sell blades sharp enough to cut through steel like paper.
One stall in particular caught my eye. A blacksmith hammered at a glowing blade, sparks scattering with each strike. Only, they weren't normal sparks—they floated for a moment, drifting like tiny fireflies before fading. The blade itself hummed faintly, as if alive.
"Don't stare too long," Lumine muttered beside me, tugging me forward. "Blacksmiths like that make weapons for nobles. A nobody standing around gawking is just asking for trouble."
I swallowed my retort and followed.
To the right, a cluster of children sat cross-legged around an older woman, who conjured floating images in the air—stories painted with light. A dragon, its scales rippling, flew across the sky before dissolving into mist. The children clapped and begged for another.
But not everything was shiny.
Further down an alley, I spotted a man slumped against a wall, holding out a chipped wooden bowl. His skin was pale, his clothes torn. No one stopped. No one even looked. The magic and marvels of the city seemed to flow around him like water around a stone, ignoring his existence.
For a moment, the noise of the market dulled. I couldn't stop staring.
Lumine noticed. Her voice cut through, flat as ever: "The Kingdom is bright, but its shadows are darker than most. Don't waste pity. You'll need it for yourself."
I didn't reply. Didn't know how to.
We walked on, weaving through the chaos of the city. At some point, I stopped feeling like an outsider watching and more like… someone moving with the current, swept up in it. The noise, the colors, the smells—it was a world alive in ways I never imagined.
Finally, the streets widened into a grand avenue.
At the far end, the palace loomed. Closer now, it was even more breathtaking. Great arches carved with scenes of battles and crowns, towers capped with radiant crystal that pulsed faintly with energy. Guards lined the broad staircase leading up to it, their armor glowing faintly under the afternoon sun.
The crowd thinned here. People gave the place space, bowing or lowering their heads as they passed.
Lumine didn't pause. She walked straight toward the palace, her steps silent, purposeful.
I followed, my heart beating faster with every step.
For the first time since arriving in this world, I wasn't walking into a monster's lair or a death trap. I was walking into power.
And that was almost more terrifying.
The marble steps stretched upward like a climb into the heavens. Each one gleamed, polished so well I could almost see my reflection. I half-expected to slip, make a fool of myself, but Lumine climbed with the same ease she did everything else, head high, expression unreadable.
At the top, the guards crossed their halberds, the faint glow of enchantments etched into the steel.
"Halt. State your business," one of them barked, voice deep, professional. His eyes flickered between me and Lumine, but lingered on me with suspicion.
Lumine didn't even break stride. "Lumine Roseheart," she said coolly. "He is with me."
The guards stiffened, immediately pulling their weapons back and bowing. "Your Highness. Forgive us."
Your Highness.
Right. Future queen. I had to remind myself she wasn't just some aloof girl with too much pride—she was practically royalty incarnate.
We stepped into the palace.
The world outside fell away.
The interior was vast, echoing, and blindingly radiant. The ceiling soared so high I felt like an ant, its arches painted with scenes of saints, kings, and what I guessed were gods. Columns of white stone lined the hall, threaded with veins of gold. Between them, tall windows let in streams of light that shimmered across the polished floor.
Everywhere I looked, there was wealth: chandeliers dripping with crystals, carpets thick enough to swallow your foot, vases taller than me carved with delicate silver patterns.
And people.
Nobles in flowing silks and jewel-studded cloaks whispered in corners. Servants glided across the floor, silent and efficient. A pair of armored knights walked past, their helms shaped like snarling beasts, mana crackling faintly from their gauntlets.
I tugged at my ragged sleeve, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place I was.
Lumine noticed. She didn't comfort me—of course she didn't—but she slowed just enough for me to keep pace without feeling like a stray mutt wandering behind her.
At the far end of the hall, a massive set of doors waited. Carved into them was a crest: a blazing sun, surrounded by seven stars.
The doors opened as we approached, groaning like some ancient beast being stirred awake.
Inside, the throne room.
It was quieter here, but heavier. The air itself seemed to thrum with authority. At the center, upon a raised dais, sat the throne—high-backed, gilded, and severe.
And upon it, not the Emperor himself, but a man in silver armor that gleamed under the light. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and when they landed on me I felt as though I'd been laid bare, every secret stripped away.
Beside him stood a woman draped in midnight-blue robes, a circlet resting on her brow. Her presence was colder than Lumine's, her gaze detached and clinical.
Lumine bowed, shallow but precise. "I have returned."
The man in silver studied me, then her. His voice carried, deep and commanding:
"You've brought him, then. The stray."
Stray. That stung more than I wanted to admit.
Lumine didn't flinch. "He survived his trial. That is proof enough."
The robed woman tilted her head, lips curling faintly. "Survived? Or stumbled through by chance?" Her eyes raked me up and down like I was something she might scrape off her shoe. "He looks fragile."
I clenched my jaw, but said nothing.
The armored man finally spoke again, his gaze never leaving mine.
"The Emperor will wish to see this boy himself. Until then, he stays under watch."
Great. Not even five minutes inside and I was already property.