Meanwhile, Markon, Gargus, Yeric, and Minosa set forth on their expedition to the fabled city of Rhanda, their sturdy yakons carrying them steadily across the rugged path.

  As they reached the foot of the hills, the city revealed itself with a humble signpost that simply read "Rhanda," yet the sight stirred in them a quiet awe.

  Gargus, gazing upward at the towering hills, could not mask his astonishment. "Surely, they did not build a city atop such a formidable rise?"

  "Indeed, they did, Gargus," Markon replied with a wistful smile, his voice tinged with the echo of childhood memories. "Rhanda is a place of great beauty. I journeyed here once, long ago, with my father. I’m eager to see what time has wrought upon it since those distant days."

  Minosa, her gaze tracing the steep and treacherous ascent, spoke with a note of concern. "Are the yakons truly up to the task of carrying us up that slope?"

  Markon turned to her, his expression calm and reassuring. "Fear not, Minosa. The yakons are hardy creatures, well-suited for this terrain. As long as we proceed with care, following each other in single file, and remain steady in our composure, all will be well. It is our own calmness that will keep the yakons sure-footed. Let us not unsettle them with our doubts."

  With curiosity gleaming in his eyes, Yeric ventured to ask, "And what, pray, occurs if the yakons become unsettled?"

  Markon, a touch of humor dancing in his voice, let out a quiet chuckle. "Do you see how steep these slopes are? Should one of us take a tumble, no amount of healing could save us from the fate that awaits at the bottom of that descent."

  "Well then," Markon announced with a tone of quiet authority, "Let us begin the climb."

  And so, they commenced their ascent—Markon taking the lead, followed by Minosa, Gargus, and Yeric. The trail before them proved even more narrow than expected, a winding thread of earth designed for but a single rider and their faithful yakon. As they climbed, the trees thickened, hemming them in on both sides, their branches slowly veiling the sunlight, which grew dimmer with every step.

  Caution prevailed, for they knew that haste might unsettle their loyal beasts, and the consequences of such agitation were dire. Each step was measured, and the group's silence carried the weight of their shared understanding. When they had reached the midpoint of their journey, the gang halted, gazing back at the ground they had conquered. The sign that once marked the beginning of their climb now appeared as a distant memory, barely visible from their newfound vantage point among the hills.

  "By the stars, we've climbed so high already, and yet more remains before us," Gargus marveled, his eyes scanning the heights still to be conquered.

  Markon, sharing the sentiment, nodded in agreement. " Let us rest a while and grant our yakons a much-deserved reprieve."

  With that, the group dismounted from their steeds.

  Minosa, always thoughtful, reached into her satchel and offered with a smile, "Here, everyone—have some of my mother's special cookies."

  Markon, his face lighting up, accepted the offering gratefully. "Minosa, you truly are the best."

  Minosa’s heart warmed at the compliment, fully aware of Markon’s particular fondness for her mother’s baking. As the group partook in the treat, Yeric, after savoring a bite, exclaimed with evident delight, "Minosa, these are without a doubt the finest cookies I’ve ever tasted. I wouldn’t mind having more, if there’s any to spare."

  Gargus, too, ate with such fervor that it drew a lighthearted laugh from Minosa, who watched in contentment as the group, gathered upon the hillside, relished the simple joy of her mother's cookies, all while taking in the splendid view that stretched out before them.

  After a strenuous ascent, broken only by a few brief rests, Markon and his companions at last arrived within the storied realm of Rhanda.

  As they stood at the city's threshold, a collective awe settled upon them, their eyes drinking in the grandeur of its architecture. Though the state of Arela held its own particular charm, for those who had known it all their lives, the splendor of Rhanda seemed nothing short of breathtaking.

  Upon crossing into the city proper, they were greeted by stone-paved streets and towering edifices, each rising several stories high. The entire metropolis, constructed from solid stone, bustled with life and energy—a testament to the progressive nature of its civilization.

  In the town square, a man stood atop a stage, announcing the recent events of the city and those yet to come.

  The roads were lined with taverns and restaurants, their patrons seated outdoors, engaged in lively conversation and enjoying their meals beneath the open sky. The people of Rhanda seemed a more social, outgoing sort, their city protected by formidable forts, each manned by vigilant soldiers.

  Notably, they also passed a station designated for the reporting of complaints—whether for grievances, danger, or mere inconveniences—a symbol of the city's well-ordered and thoughtful governance.

  In every corner, Rhanda revealed itself to be a place of advanced thought and bustling vibrancy, a stark contrast to the more tranquil pace of life the gang had left behind in Arela.

  "By the heavens, Rhanda has transformed beyond recognition. It is nothing like I remember," Markon remarked, his voice laced with wonder.

  Minosa, her eyes wide as she took in the sight before her, added, "It is truly a marvel. Never did I imagine such a place could exist atop these hills."

  Gargus, his gaze catching the crimson banners fluttering throughout the city, furrowed his brow in curiosity. "What are those red banners? They seem to be everywhere. Could they be Rhanda’s emblem?"

  Yeric, uncertain, ventured a response. "Perhaps, but Rhanda’s insignia has always been a sword crossed with a black banner. I’m not sure what these signify."

  As they pondered, a delicate white flake drifted from the sky, landing softly on Minosa’s face.

  Then, as if summoned by an unseen hand, the heavens opened, and it began to fall all around them.

  "What is this?" Minosa exclaimed, her face alight with childlike wonder as she looked up. "It's so beautiful!"

  Markon, a soft smile playing on his lips, replied, "This, Minosa, is snow—a wonder of nature you’ll only find here in Rhanda." His voice grew wistful as he recalled his first encounter with snow as a boy, the memory still fresh despite the years that had passed.

  As they ventured further into the heart of Rhanda, the group’s attention was drawn to a large board bearing the inscription, "Rhanda Healing Centre." Nearby, a towering edifice loomed, its imposing stone walls fortified and echoing with the unmistakable sounds of clashing steel and the fervent cries of warriors. It was none other than the famed "Rhanda School for Warriors."

  "This must be the place where our training shall commence," Markon declared, his voice brimming with excitement.

  The group, eager to glimpse the scene within, strained to peer through the gates when, suddenly, the thunderous sound of hooves filled the air. A man atop a colossal yakon came charging towards them at breakneck speed, halting abruptly just before the group, his beast towering over their own in size and stature.

  "Even the yakons here seem of a different breed," Minosa observed, her voice tinged with wonder as the young rider dismounted with practiced ease.

  He approached them slowly, his gaze steady, before speaking.

  "Sir Markon Sline of Arela?" he inquired, his tone formal yet respectful.

  Markon, uncertain yet composed, answered, "Yes, that would be me."

  "I knew it at once—those blue eyes and fair hair—there’s no mistaking you," the young man exclaimed before quickly regaining his composure.

  "Ah, forgive me. My name is Onri, and I serve the house of Sir Miliodus. Please, follow me, and I shall escort you to your accommodations," he added, motioning for the group to follow.

  As they made their way through the bustling streets, Onri turned to the group and inquired, "Was your journey overly taxing?"

  With a touch of cheerfulness, Gargus replied, "Not at all! We quite enjoyed the adventure."

  However, Onri, seemingly indifferent to Gargus’s lighthearted remark, directed his attention solely to Markon.

  "And you, Sir Markon—do you find our city to your liking?" he asked, his tone more measured.

  Markon, his heart stirred by the flood of memories, replied warmly, "I’m quite taken with it. The last time I was here, I was but a boy. Now, the entire place feels transformed—yet there remains something familiar, something cherished from the past."

  "Indeed, I recall it well. It was my father who guided Sir Sline and yourself around on that occasion; I was present as well," Onri said, a smile touching his lips.

  "Ah, I see," Markon responded with understanding. "So, you have followed in your father's footsteps within the Miliodus household?"

  With a proud gleam in his eyes, Onri affirmed, "Indeed, I have. It is with great pride that I serve the Miliodus family."

  Guiding them toward a magnificent stone edifice adorned with a sword-shaped insignia and bearing the name "Miliodus" engraved prominently upon it, Onri announced, "Here we are. This is the residence where Sir Miliodus has instructed me to make your accommodations."

  The party, with Onri leading the way, entered the grand building. Upon crossing the threshold, they were greeted by a lobby resplendent with opulent furnishings and adorned with elegant stone statues. Markon, clearly entranced by the artistry of the statues, could not suppress his admiration.

  "Ah, I see that these artifacts have captured your interest, Sir Markon," Onri said with a note of pride. "These are cherished heirlooms, handed down through countless generations of the Miliodus family."

  Gargus, observing the frequency with which Onri invoked the Miliodus name, whispered to Minosa, "It appears he takes great pleasure in mentioning the Miliodus name," prompting a shared, discreet chuckle.

  Markon, recognizing the significance of the Miliodus legacy, smiled in acknowledgment. However, Onri’s stern gaze, sharp and unyielding, quickly brought an end to their mirth, restoring the decorum expected in such distinguished surroundings.

  "This way, Sir," Onri instructed, guiding Markon and the others up a magnificent staircase. Along either side, rows of rooms stretched into the distance.

  With a key drawn from his pocket, Onri unlocked a door and ushered them inside.

  Upon entering, Markon and his companions were met with a lavish chamber that boasted a comfortable seating area, a compact kitchen, and, tucked away to one side, a sumptuous bedroom adorned with a generously sized bed and luxurious amenities.

  "Truly remarkable, Onri! Sir Miliodus has provided us with an exceptional abode," Markon exclaimed, his voice brimming with genuine excitement. "We are most fortunate to have chosen to stay here, and I feel compelled to express my gratitude to him personally."

  "Oh, there is no need for such formality, Sir Markon," Onri replied, a modest smile gracing his features. "Sir Miliodus extends these courtesies to all his esteemed guests."

  "But still, this is exceedingly generous for just the four of us," Markon remarked, his smile one of heartfelt gratitude.

  "Four?" Onri responded, his brow slightly furrowing in mild confusion. "It appears there has been a misunderstanding, Sir Markon. This suite is reserved solely for your own accommodation."

  "Just for me?" Markon asked, a note of perplexity entering his voice.

  "Indeed," Onri confirmed, his smile unwavering. "A person of your noble standing is entitled to the utmost privacy and comfort."

  "And what of my companions?" Markon inquired, his curiosity evident. "Will they be provided with the other rooms on this floor?"

  At this, Onri burst into hearty laughter, leaving the group somewhat taken aback.

  "Oh, no, Sir Markon," Onri explained, his smile now taking on a more formal and stern quality.

  "This suite is designated for nobles and their ilk. Your companions, being of more common standing, have been allocated lodgings elsewhere."

  "Elsewhere? Do you truly believe I would allow my friends to depart while I bask in such comfort?" Markon questioned, his tone firm and resolute.

  Minosa, Gargus, and Yeric exchanged glances, feeling a mixture of gratitude for their considerate friend and a twinge of sorrow at the unfolding situation. The discrimination they faced, a novel experience, stood in stark contrast to the egalitarian spirit that had characterized their lives in Arela.

  "I regret to inform you, Sir Markon, but those are the established rules," Onri replied, maintaining his composed demeanor.

  "Then I shall accompany them," Markon declared with unwavering determination.

  "Ensure that I receive the same accommodations as they do."

  While Gargus and Minosa appreciated having a friend like Markon, they were also disheartened by the unfamiliar treatment they encountered. It was a stark departure from the principles of equality and camaraderie to which they had long been accustomed in Arela.

  "Sir Markon, to decline the accommodations offered by Sir Miliodus would be a grave slight, one that could jeopardize the cordial relations between him and Sir Sline. Surely, we do not wish for that outcome," Onri reasoned, his tone a mixture of diplomacy and firmness.

  At the mention of his father’s name, Markon remained silent, his anger simmering beneath the surface at the inequitable treatment of his friends.

  Gargus, noting the tension, spoke with a caring smile, "It is quite alright, Markon. We cannot expect every noble to extend the same kindness as you and Sir Sline. We understand. We shall meet each day for our training. Rest assured, we will manage."

  Minosa, sensing Markon's distress, gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  "Very well," Onri said, casting a nonchalant glance at Markon's disapproving glare.

  "Since the matter is resolved, make yourself at ease here while I escort your friends to their quarters."

  With that, Minosa, Gargus, and Yeric followed Onri to their designated lodgings.

  Gargus, in particular, was enveloped by a sense of melancholy. The separation from Flanco and now from Markon left him with a profound sense of loss. It seemed as though their once tightly-knit group was beginning to fray, and Gargus could not shake the weight of his dejection.

  "It is quite alright, Gargus. We may yet join Markon for dinner, you know. There is no need to wait until morning practice," Minosa offered, striving to lift his spirits.

  Onri guided them back to the training grounds of Rhanda. Puzzled, Gargus inquired, "Why have we returned here?"

  "Because this shall be your place of lodging," Onri replied, a hint of finality in his tone.

  As they stepped into the training grounds, they were met with a remarkable sight: warriors diligently honing their skills, while healers practiced their defensive barriers. The sheer scale of the training activities left the group in awe.

  The grounds were vast and teeming with apprentices, a striking contrast to the more subdued atmosphere of Arela. The gang found themselves invigorated by the prospect of training alongside such dedicated individuals, momentarily distracting themselves from thoughts of Markon. To their right, they discovered another grand stone building, further adding to the excitement of their surroundings.

  "This is where you shall be staying," Onri proclaimed, a diplomatic smile gracing his features.

  The gang stepped into the building, their hearts a blend of anticipation and uncertainty.

  Following Onri's lead, they discovered their individual rooms to be surprisingly cozy, each furnished with a modest table bearing a lamp, a dresser, and a comfortable bed.

  "Well, this is rather pleasant. I could certainly grow accustomed to such accommodations," Minosa remarked, her eyes surveying the room with appreciation.

  "Indeed, it is quite nice," Yeric chimed in with a chuckle. "I would have enjoyed it thoroughly had I not seen Markon's room first."

  "I suppose it is not without merit," Gargus conceded, though his thoughts were clearly elsewhere, weighed down by lingering concerns.

  "On a brighter note, each of you is afforded your own private chambers, and the shower facilities are conveniently located on the first floor for the ladies and on the ground floor for the gentlemen," Onri informed.

  "There is also a dining area at the far end of the training grounds where you may procure your meals. Fortunately for you, such sustenance is provided free of charge, as you are guests here," Onri continued, his demeanor remaining detached.

  "Gargus exclaimed eagerly, “Minosa, do you suppose we ought to invite Markon here for lunch?" His anticipation for a reunion with his friend before supper was palpable.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Fear not for Sir Markon. He has his own chef within the building and can have meals delivered directly to his chamber," Onri replied with an air of indifference.

  "Very well, then. I shall leave you to settle in while I take my leave."

  "Do not fret about him. We can invite Markon to join us for dinner. I am certain he will accept, and in doing so, we may explore the state and gain a better understanding of Rhanda," Minosa reassured Gargus, keenly attuned to his unease.

  “Gargus, Yeric, why not stow our luggage in our rooms and then explore the training grounds? Let us gain some insight into the training methods employed by the warriors of Rhanda,” suggested Minosa.

  The trio set forth on a leisurely stroll along the training grounds, taking in the sight of nearly fifty warriors and double that number of healers.

  “Sir Skarsnay was indeed correct; Arela pales in comparison to the number of warriors and healers it has been producing. This year alone, we have but four warriors and three healers, ourselves included,” Minosa remarked.

  “Indeed, I must admit I feel somewhat overwhelmed. They even possess a greater number of trainers. Back home, we had only Sir Skarsnay and Lady Hermiosa. Do you think they might surpass us in skill?” Gargus inquired, a hint of uncertainty coloring his tone.

  “Ah, but remember, quantity does not always equate to quality. We were trained by the esteemed Skarsnay, and regardless of the number of trainers present, none here possess his illustrious reputation as a warrior,” Minosa stated, a confident smile illuminating her face.

  “You are correct. I suppose we shall have the opportunity to assess their skill during our practice tomorrow. We must not disappoint Sir Skarsnay,” Gargus declared resolutely.

  “And Lady Hermiosa as well,” Yeric chimed in, earning nods and smiles of agreement from Gargus and Minosa.

  At that moment, a lively girl with brown hair and an athletic build approached them, her short locks conveying a sense of carefree spirit.

  “Greetings! Are you all from Arela?” she inquired.

  “I am Geana, and this is Zenn,” she continued, gesturing towards a young man with black hair, a slender frame, and a hint of facial hair gracing his chin.

  "Indeed, we are," Minosa responded. "Ah, my apologies for not introducing myself sooner,".

  "I am Minosa, and these are my companions, Gargus and Yeric."

  "And might I inquire if you two are also warriors?"

  "Indeed, we are warriors, though we barely managed to pass our initial trials," Geana replied with a casual demeanor.

  Zenn, his expression one of marked disinterest, added, "Had it not been for Geana, I might not have participated at all. She quite literally dragged me here."

  "By the way, I thought there were four of you. Where is the fourth member of your group?" Geana asked.

  "Ah, he is over at the building marked with the large sword insignia," Gargus answered.

  "Wait, did you say Miliodus’s guest house? Isn’t that reserved for nobles?" Zenn asked, his brow furrowed in surprise.

  "Indeed," Gargus replied casually, "our friend is a noble, but he's not the type to boast about it."

  "Unbelievable," Geana remarked, her astonishment clear. "Not only do you speak with nobles, but you’re actually friends with one? Arela must truly be a world apart."

  Minosa, Yeric, and Gargus exchanged puzzled glances, realizing just how deep the divide between nobles and commoners ran in Rhanda. The difference was far more pronounced than they had anticipated.

  "Wait, are you saying you’re not even allowed to speak to nobles?" Yeric asked, his curiosity evident.

  Geana chuckled softly, shaking her head. "It’s not that we’re forbidden from speaking to them. It’s just that most wouldn’t bother responding. They’d simply act as if we didn’t exist," she explained, her laughter mirrored by Zenn’s amused nod.

  “Take a look at the training grounds,” Zenn said, gesturing toward the expanse before them.

  “See that large group of healers and warriors? Now, look further beyond them—see the smaller gathering off to the side? Those are the noble-born warriors and healers, training apart from the others.”

  Gargus, Minosa, and Yeric observed in silence, their eyes following Zenn’s direction. After a moment, Gargus broke the quiet. “But I thought the Miliodus family was the only noble house. Why are there so many training separately?”

  Geana offered an explanation. “The Miliodus family has ruled for generations, true, and while the main line only has two heirs, the extended family boasts many branches. Those you see are the heirs of those branches.”

  Minosa’s eyes lit up with sudden understanding. “That makes sense. In Arela, Sir Sline has no siblings, and Markon is his only son, which is why we don’t have nearly as many nobles back home.”

  Yeric, asked, “So, is there no way for healers and warriors from common families to train or even mingle with the nobles?”

  Zenn gave a slight shake of his head, while Geana sighed. “Not really," she said, "in Rhanda, they keep the lines pretty clear.”

  "Well, technically, there is a way," Zenn began, his tone thoughtful. "But first, let's eat—I'm starving."

  “Good thinking,” agreed Gargus, eagerly digging into his meal, clearly sharing Zenn's hunger.

  As they settled into the dining hall, the group found themselves faced with simple but hearty fare—steamed vegetables, grilled meat, and a bowl of rice for each. The aroma of the meal, though modest, stirred their hunger, and they began to eat with quiet satisfaction.

  “The food here isn’t much to write home about,” Geana remarked with a casual shrug, “but hey, it’s free, so no real complaints.”

  Minosa, her curiosity unquenched, wasn’t about to let the conversation drop. "So, Zenn," she pressed, her gaze intent upon him, “there’s a way for us to train with the nobles? What is it?”

  Zenn glanced up, noting her eager expression, and with a small smile, he replied, “Yes, but let’s just say it’s not exactly a simple matter. You’ll need more than just talent to cross that line…”

  Between mouthfuls of their modest meal, Zenn began to recount a tale that stirred the air with intrigue.

  "In the days of Sir Miliodus's youth," he began, his voice low and measured, "there was a man known as Red—so named for the striking color of his hair, as vibrant as flame itself. Unlike Sir Miliodus, whose lineage alone granted him power, Red was a warrior of unparalleled skill, a tactician unmatched by most. His prowess earned him a coveted place among the queen’s twelve royal guards, where his abilities were said to rival even the greatest of the three generals."

  Zenn paused, allowing the gravity of his words to settle over his companions, who were now listening with rapt attention.

  "But despite his success, Red eventually resigned from his prestigious post and returned to Rhanda. He had a vision—grand and ambitious. Together with Sir Miliodus, he founded what is now known as the Red Boulevard. This organization seeks only the finest warriors and healers, irrespective of birth or station.

  If a commoner possesses the necessary talent and drive, they might find themselves standing alongside the nobles, training as equals."

  "So, Red truly changed the game for commoners," Minosa finally murmured, her voice filled with a sense of wonder.

  "Indeed, since the inception of the Red Boulevard, Rhanda has flourished," Geana continued, her voice steady and thoughtful.

  "The city's defenses are stronger, its architecture more grand, and the people’s lives, in general, have markedly improved. Crime has diminished, employment opportunities abound, and there is a palpable sense of happiness in the air. You’ve likely seen the banners bearing the Red Boulevard's insignia throughout the city," she added, glancing toward the vivid red symbols fluttering proudly over the streets.

  At last, comprehension dawned on Gargus, and with a nod, he remarked, "So, those banners... they symbolize the influence of the Red Boulevard."

  Minosa, her curiosity piqued even further, turned to Geana and Zenn. "So, are you two thinking about joining the Red Boulevard ?"

  Zenn chuckled heartily at the suggestion. "Joining?" he repeated, shaking his head.

  "Not in the least. We’re a far cry from having the skill required to be considered. Honestly, just passing our initial trials felt like sheer luck, and with the final trials approaching at the harvest festival, I can't see us making the cut."

  "Then why train at all? Why put yourself through this rigorous preparation if you're not striving for the Boulevard?" Minosa asked, her gaze intent as she tried to grasp their motivations.

  Zenn sighed, his expression softening into something more reflective. "It’s not always about reaching the pinnacle," he explained. "For some of us, it’s simply about survival and improvement. We may never join the ranks of the Red Boulevard, but becoming stronger, more skilled... that can change our lives in other ways."

  Geana leaned back slightly, her expression thoughtful as she began to recount their tale. "You see," she started, "the Red Boulevard, aside from transforming Rhanda, also founded a rather curious establishment — the Station for Queries and Complaints. It's run by warriors who, while unable to pass the final trial at the harvest festival, successfully completed the first two. These warriors serve a unique role in the city."

  She paused, glancing at Zenn before continuing. "Zenn and I, well, we're farmers. Our lives have always been a struggle, fighting for each meal, day in and day out. The Red Boulevard offers us a lifeline. Whether we win or lose at the harvest festival, we end up with a secure position — either as eternal warriors or as officers within the Station. For us, it’s a win-win, considering we’ve already cleared the initial trials."

  Gargus and Minosa exchanged a glance, their smiles tinged with admiration for the practicality of Geana and Zenn's chosen path. It was an unconventional way forward, yet undeniably pragmatic.

  But Yeric, still mulling over the intricacies of the system, spoke up, his curiosity unfaded. "But what’s the point of joining the Red Boulevard if, in the end, they just become eternal warriors guarding the borders? Why not enter the harvest festival independently, prove their skills, and rise through their own merit?"

  Minosa and Gargus, still turning Yeric’s question over in their minds, waited expectantly as Geana gathered her thoughts, ready to explain the deeper workings of the Red Boulevard.

  "Ah, well," she began, "joining the Red Boulevard isn’t merely about the training, though it’s true that you’ll be learning from the finest. That alone can tip the scales in your favor when it comes to the final trial. But there’s far more at play. To join the Boulevard is to commit for life. Once you're part of it, whether you succeed in the trial or end up as an eternal warrior, your future is intertwined with its fate."

  She paused, letting the weight of her words settle before continuing. "Even after one's tenure as an eternal warrior serving in the Valendeya army, upon returning to Rhanda, one remains under the Red Boulevard's aegis. And with that, they’re elevated to noble status. Imagine that—a farmer, who once scraped by for every meal, becomes a noble. There’s dignity in that. Some have even married into noble families, gaining both wealth and influence. These are privileges an eternal warrior outside the Boulevard would never know."

  Minosa, Gargus, and Yeric listened in rapt silence, now understanding the far-reaching allure of the Boulevard. It wasn't just about proving oneself in battle, but also about securing a future of honor, recognition, and, for some, perhaps even love among the city's elite.

  The weight of Geana's explanation settled upon them, the allure and privileges tied to the Red Boulevard growing ever more tempting in their minds.

  Minosa, ever the playful spirit, made a teasing proclamation, "The Red Boulevard sounds far too appealing—I may just have to join!"

  Geana, catching the playful glint in Minosa's eye, responded with a widening grin, "I hate to break it to you, but residency in Rhanda is a non-negotiable requirement."

  Curiosity piqued, Gargus inquired further, "But who exactly is this Red? And why is it we've never heard of him before now?"

  Zenn took the opportunity to elaborate, his tone shifting to one of mystery. "Red's true identity remains shrouded in secrecy—no one knows his real name or what he truly looks like. All that exists are legends of his extraordinary skills and influence. Even those within the Red Boulevard have never laid eyes upon him. It is said only his son, one of the three lieutenants maintain direct communication with him, and they are the ones who oversee the recruitment of healers and warriors alike. Of these three, Solomon, is considered the most powerful among them."

  Geana, her expression turning dreamy, interjected with a sigh, "Ah, Solomon! A figure so handsome that he has charmed the hearts of women throughout Rhanda, whether they hail from noble blood or common birth."

  Zenn continued his explanation, undeterred by Geana's wistful tone. "But there's far more to Solomon than his charm. His skill is nothing short of legendary—so much so that he could have easily claimed a place among the queen's royal guards. Yet, instead of pursuing that path, he has dedicated himself entirely to the Red Boulevard, forgoing the traditional trials that eternal warriors must face."

  Gargus, could scarcely contain himself. "The Red Boulevard is truly awe-inspiring! Just hearing about them sends a chill down my spine," he exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration.

  Zenn and Geana exchanged knowing glances, their shared chuckle revealing their amusement at Gargus's fervor.

  "So," Geana said with a grin, "what are your plans for the rest of the day? Surely you won't be diving straight into training?"

  Minosa shook her head, her smile mirroring Geana's. "Oh, no. We've only just arrived, and we thought we'd take the day off to explore Rhanda. It seems like quite the lively place."

  "Then, surely you'll be in need of a guide?" Zenn inquired, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  "Wait, are you both offering to show us around?" Gargus asked, his curiosity piqued.

  "Why, of course!" Geana replied with a playful grin. "All you had to do was ask."

  Minosa, sensing the opportunity, leaned in eagerly. "Well, in that case, when do we begin our tour?"

  Geana, suggested, "How about this: the three of you take some time to rest in your rooms for now, and we'll set out in the evening. Trust me, Rhanda reveals its true charm beneath the veil of night."

  With the plan settled, the group departed from the dining hall, the anticipation of discovery lingering in the air.

  As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its final golden rays over the city, they prepared themselves for the night—when Rhanda would truly come alive under the soft glow of twilight.

  “Oh, I nearly forgot,” Gargus exclaimed, pausing mid-stride. “Before we set off on our tour, we should make a quick stop at the Miliodus guest house. We need to bring Markon along.”

  Minosa nodded in agreement. “Yes, he’s there all by himself. It wouldn’t be right to leave him behind.”

  With a chuckle, Geana quipped, “This is a sight to behold—a commoner feeling sympathy for a noble. How times change.”

  “Very well, onward to Miliodus’s guest house,” Zenn declared, stepping ahead to guide them.

  Upon arriving at the grand residence, Minosa urged, “Come on, let’s head inside and fetch him.”

  Geana and Zenn, however, exchanged hesitant glances, their feet rooted to the spot. Noticing their reluctance, Yeric turned to them. “What’s the matter? Why the hesitation?”

  Zenn, with a sheepish smile, explained, “It’s just… commoners typically aren’t allowed in places like this.”

  Gargus, ever steadfast, tried to reassure them, “It’ll be fine. Markon’s expecting us. Come along!” With that, they stepped forward, only to be swiftly halted by the doorkeeper’s imposing presence.

  “I believe you’ve mistaken the place,” the doorkeeper intoned, his voice tinged with disdain.

  Minosa, undeterred, met his gaze. “No mistake. Our friend resides here, and we’ve come to fetch him.”

  With a sneer, the doorkeeper retorted, “Friends of yours, living here? Highly unlikely.”

  “We were just here earlier with Markon,” Gargus insisted, his voice resolute.

  The doorkeeper’s patience visibly thinned. “I’ll say this once more: if you persist in causing a disturbance, I’ll be forced to summon reinforcements.” His tone carried a veiled threat, and the tension in the air grew palpable.

  “I warned you,” Geana murmured under her breath.

  Just as the situation seemed to escalate, Markon’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension.

  " Cease this at once! They are with me," Markon declared, stepping forward with authority.

  The doorkeeper, caught off guard, scrambled to defend his actions. "My apologies, Sir, but they didn’t seem the sort to be acquainted with you."

  Markon’s eyes narrowed. "And yet, they are my friends—the only kind I care to associate with. It would do you well to remember their faces from now on," he commanded, his voice cold.

  The door keeper bowed his head in submission. "Of course, Sir Markon. My deepest apologies."

  The tension quickly dissipated as Markon turned to his companions, his mood lightening.

  "What brings you all here? I was just about to fetch you myself!" he exclaimed with excitement.

  Gargus grinned. "We had the same thought, and allow me to introduce Geana and Zenn—they’ve kindly offered to guide us through the city tonight."

  "Ah, greetings! I truly appreciate you both for lending a hand," Markon said warmly.

  Zenn, awkwardly, replied, "It is no trouble at all, Sir Markon. The pleasure is ours."

  Markon waved off the formality with a smile. "Sir? Please, there’s no need for that. Just Markon will do. I’m hardly that venerable," he said, his tone light.

  Geana, her eyes sparkling with mischief, chimed in, "Kind, noble, and modest too. I daresay, the women of Arela must be lining up in droves to catch your attention!"

  Markon laughed, a fleeting thought of Astraa brushed his mind. "Hardly," he replied, shaking his head.

  "Geana, please, don't embarrass us," Zenn interjected, causing the group to break into laughter.

  "So, where shall we begin our evening adventure?" Yeric asked, eager to set off.

  "How about we begin with a leisurely stroll through the city," Zenn proposed, "and once you've soaked in its charm, we can visit a few hidden gems known only to the locals."

  "That sounds perfect. Let’s get started," Markon agreed.

  The group set off on their nocturnal adventure, wandering through the winding streets of the stone-built city. As night draped its cloak over Rhanda, the city's beauty seemed to unfold like a well-kept secret.

  Lanterns adorned the buildings, casting a soft, warm glow, while street lamps shimmered, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. Stalls lined the streets, offering everything from stone-carved idols to intricate portraits, and the air was thick with the scents of tempting culinary delights.

  Gargus, marveling at the scene, remarked, "The city truly comes alive at night, far more than I ever imagined it could during the day."

  Markon nodded, his eyes sweeping over the bustling streets. "Indeed, Gargus. The energy here is remarkable—who would have thought a town could boast such an array of taverns and restaurants?"

  Minosa chimed in, her voice filled with admiration. "And it’s astonishing to see every establishment brimming with life. This city, it seems, knows how to celebrate the night."

  "Revelry, you say?" Geana teased with a sly grin. "This? This is merely a glimpse. You’ve yet to see what true merriment looks like here."

  Zenn joined in, his tone equally playful. "Indeed! The taverns and restaurants stay open all night. Come, we’ll take you to our favorite haunt."

  "Oh, they'll love it there," Geana added confidently, before pausing with a thoughtful glance at the stalls lining the street. "But wait, do any of you wish to indulge in some shopping? Perhaps pick up a little something before we carry on?"

  Markon shook his head with a smile. "I think we can save that for another day. Let’s proceed to the spot you’ve been raving about."

  And with that, Zenn took the lead, guiding the group through Rhanda's enchanting streets, past one charming tavern after another, each establishment more captivating than the last. The air was filled with laughter and music, spilling out from the open doors, tempting them to linger.

  Yet Zenn pressed on, until they finally halted before a grand building that rose before them like a jewel.

  Its architecture was nothing short of magnificent, the artwork adorning its fa?ade delicate and masterful. On the lower floor, a fine restaurant beckoned, while a tavern occupied the upper level. But the true marvel was the dome, fashioned from a material so clear it seemed like glass, glowing faintly in the night like a beacon of warmth and revelry.

  Minosa, her curiosity piqued, asked, “Is this the place we’re destined for?”

  Gargus, captivated by the grandeur of the building, exclaimed, “I’m glad we ventured this far. This tavern is like none I’ve ever seen—truly a masterpiece.”

  Excitement shimmered in the air, and Markon, equally enchanted, turned to the group. “Shall we step inside and see what wonders await?”

  Zenn, a knowing smirk on his lips, shook his head. “Enter? Perhaps you can, Markon. But the rest of us? Not a chance. This building belongs to the Miliodus family, frequented only by the wealthiest aristocrats. A single meal here would devour a month’s wages.”

  Yeric, puzzled, interjected, “Then why did we stop here?”

  With a chuckle, Zenn explained, “It’s merely on our path to where we’re truly headed. I thought it would be worth your while to behold such splendor.”

  “Right then, let’s not linger,” Zenn urged, gently coaxing the group forward. “The real destination awaits, just a bit further—don’t lose heart yet.”

  As they ventured away from the vibrant heart of the city, the streets gradually narrowed, and a sense of disappointment began to settle over Markon, Minosa, Gargus, and Yeric.

  The lively crowds and the elegant taverns that had once dazzled their senses now seemed distant, replaced by a quieter, more humble path. Zenn, however, retained his buoyant demeanor, his steps growing lighter with anticipation as they neared the crest of a hill.

  Finally, he stopped before a worn, arched sign that creaked in the night air, its faded letters spelling out "Yakon's Trail."

  With a gleam in his eye, Zenn announced triumphantly, "This is it! Our destination for the evening."

  The group exchanged wary glances, their eyes falling upon the dilapidated doors and the overall weathered appearance of the place. It was a stark contrast to the grand structures they had passed earlier. Sensing their hesitation, Geana, unbothered by the shabby exterior, gestured for them to follow.

  With a mixture of reluctance and curiosity, they complied, stepping inside to discover a narrow staircase. Yeric let out a small sigh. "We could have just stayed in the city and gone to a proper tavern," he muttered under his breath.

  Zenn and Geana, undeterred, led the way up the creaking steps, with the others trailing behind. At the top, the duo halted, turning to face their companions with pride shining in their eyes.

  "Here we are," they proclaimed, as though unveiling a hidden treasure.

  As the group ventured further into Yakon's Trail, their initial skepticism melted away, replaced by awe at the scene that unfolded before them. The establishment, perched gracefully on the cliff's edge, was a marvel of architecture, encircled by a lush terrace garden. Tables, elegantly positioned at the very brink of the precipice, offered an unparalleled view of the vast expanse below.

  Markon, struck by the sheer beauty of the place, exclaimed, "This is truly magnificent!"

  Minosa, her earlier doubts dissipated, added, "For a moment, we had our reservations. I’m so glad we chose to trust your recommendation."

  Gargus, his gaze drawn to a table positioned at the farthest edge of the terrace, suggested, "Let us claim that table; it appears to promise the finest vantage point." The group, now visibly enlivened by the enchanting surroundings, made their way to the chosen table.

  Once comfortably settled amidst the rustic charm of Yakon's Trail, Geana proposed, "The poultry here is renowned throughout Rhanda. Shall I place the order for us?" Markon, intrigued by the prospect of local fare, responded with enthusiasm, "Yes, please, do so."

  Zenn, casting a contemplative glance over the gathering, inquired, "How about some drinks? Is anyone inclined to partake in some of the region’s distinctive beverages?"

  After a brief exchange of glances, Minosa declared, "Why not? Let us indulge," prompting a chorus of agreement and cheers from Gargus and the rest.

  The drinks soon arrived, accompanied by a sumptuous array of dishes that promised an exquisite culinary experience. The group, now gathered around a lantern that cast a warm glow over their feast, found their senses enveloped in the rich and aromatic offerings.

  Markon, captivated by the depth of flavors, inquired with genuine curiosity, "What is this delectable fare? How is it prepared to achieve such remarkable taste?"

  Minosa, relishing every bite, remarked with evident pleasure, "It is simply divine. Such fare is unheard of in Arela. We are truly fortunate to experience this."

  Gargus, his mouth full, humorously added, "Indeed, poor Flanco is missing out on quite the culinary adventure."

  Minosa, her eyes twinkling with mischief, added, "And Astraa as well. She would surely delight in the food, though she might take a less favorable view of the liquor," eliciting hearty laughter from Gargus and Markon.

  "Geana and Zenn, we are profoundly grateful for your guidance in bringing us to this enchanting place. The atmosphere, the cuisine, and the libations have truly rendered this evening exceptional," Yeric expressed with heartfelt sincerity.

  Gargus, with a playful glimmer in his eye, teased, "Were you not the one lamenting the desire to visit the establishments in the city?"

  With a broad smile, Yeric quickly countered, "Nay, that was prior to this delightful experience..."

  The whole group erupted into laughter, their merriment echoing through the lively tavern, as they concluded their first day in Rhanda with a spirited celebration at Yakon's Trail.