Greta lifted the hem of her skirt just enough to free her step. The moment the tip of her boot touched solid ground, the air around them shattered into a burst of white light, soft, fading, and replaced by the scent of damp earth and a warm breeze drifting in from the east. Hooves thudded gently against mossy soil as the caravan rolled to a halt beneath towering silver-leafed trees.
She inhaled deeply.
The air here was different, lighter, warmer, alive in a way Eisthal could never be. The forest was quiet, but in the distance, the faint chime of city bells echoed through the mist, like a memory calling her name.
"Welcome to Serathia," Matthias said, his voice smooth and almost mocking. "The imperial capital of Auristella,coveted by all, visited by many, and remembered by few without scars."
He said it like it was her first time here.
As if this city hadn't already burned itself into her bones.
