Ellis shot up from the bench as the caravan rattled loudly. The cart’s lulling sway had guided him into an easy sleep only several hours before. Now startled, he glanced around the inside of the cart. In the low light, he could see both Mary and Gertrude sound asleep, each wrapped tightly in their blankets. Ellis lifted his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. A few moments later, the rattling of wooden wheels over uneven ground changed with a bump to a higher, steadier pitch— the sound of wood against stone. Ellis maneuvered himself quietly to the bench at the front of the caravan and drew back the curtain.
Ingrid sat reclined against the backrest of the driver’s bench with her cloak brought up around her neck. Her body swayed gently as the wheels rolled over each break in the road, but her head remained against the support post. Beside her, Perry let out a yawn and stretched himself. He stole a glance at her and furrowed his brow. Perry reached over and pulled the end of her cloak across her body to make it more secure. The cart jostled again and Ellis felt his stomach tingle as they began to head up an incline. Curious, he leaned forward and peered out through the front of the caravan.
The landscape was a murky wash of blue and gray, pierced suddenly by a lance of golden light. The wisps of cloud cover burned pink and orange as the sun struck them from the east. And in the west, a frontier of beaming azure moved to overtake the midnight’s dusk.
Throughout their journey north, they had never been out of eye sight of the Helmaedia, a major river in the region. It ran for nearly a thousand miles, from the northernmost reaches of the empire until its descent beneath the mountains of Edge. Compared to the North and East of the empire, the South was comparatively less developed. For the majority of their journey, they had travelled along dirt paths and old roads, which had fallen into disrepair since the end of the war. But now, they had entered the Magistrate and nobility’s sphere of influence. And as the sun climbed ever higher, and the caravan crested the top of the incline, it was clear what difference such an influence could make.
The forests, which had meandered beside them for days, abruptly thinned, until there soon was nothing left but empty fields. They had been cleared many years ago to provide lumber for the construction of Omnirius’ most ambitious project in centuries. Beneath Ellis was laid a wide rode of stone, with space enough for three or more caravans to pass safely next to one another without need of stopping.
Fast approaching, and growing larger as the caravan rolled on, were the rising stone walls which enclosed Gate City. Higher and higher they lifted toward the sky, built between gargantuan monolithic towers, atop which were flown glorious banners that bore the crest of the Omnirian Empire. Straight ahead stood the city’s southern gate, the doors to which were slightly ajar. Looking eastward, across the river, Ellis could see a massive bridge reach out across Helmaedia’s billowing waters. The bridge was constructed of two parts, with each half stretching out toward the other, ultimately stopping before they connected and leaving a gap between them; a wooden draw bridge had been installed to make up the rest of the distance. This design allowed for the stone support columns to remain closer to the river’s embankments, thus ensuring more space for merchant ships to pass beneath.
Looking back toward the city, Ellis could see that it sat atop an elevation which overlooked the wide breadth of the river. On the other side of Helmaedia’s shores roamed the sprawling green borderland between Auborn and Omnirius. For a brief moment as they continued along the road toward the city, Ellis could see just beyond the cliff-side to the river bank below. The foundations for a network of docks and storehouses ran like a latticework between the cliff face and the rocky shores. Even unfinished, it was still an impressive sight.
Soon, Mary appeared beside Ellis and yawned as she looked out at the scene. She casually wiped a tear from the corner of her eyes and looked at Ellis with a small grin.
“It’s amazing…” she whispered.
As the caravan slipped over a gap in the stonework, the cart jostled once more. This time, Ingrid leaned to the side and fell softly against Perry’s shoulder. Ellis and Mary each withdrew from the curtain and covered their mouths. Ingrid left out a soft moan as she stirred awake. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the slightly embarrassed face of Sir Perry.
“My apologies!” she blurted out as she pulled herself away from him.
“Nothing to apologize for,” he said with a small chuckle.
Ingrid adjusted herself in the seat. Then, she looked around her a few moments before settling her gaze on the southern gate a few miles in the distance.
“We’re finally here.”
After some time, they could see a few other caravans up ahead being greeted by the guardsman. And, some distance across the river, there were yet more caravans crossing over the bridge from the east. Perry and Ingrid brought the carriage into position a comfortable distance behind the most recent arrival — a well built carriage surrounded by armed cavalry, with a second passenger cart behind— and waited for the guards to clear them for entry. After a few minutes, and with a crack of his whip, the driver urged the horses onward through the barbican portal and into the city.
Following suit, Perry drove his caravan forward and stopped just in front of the nearest set of guards. Three men moved to confront them directly, but there stood almost a dozen other guardsmen at the ready not more than thirty feet away. Wide stone balconies beset the walls of the city; those immediately above and beside the southern gate each hosted half a dozen archers, brandishing their war bows and peering down between the parapets. There were considerably more men stationed here than Perry last remembered.
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“Greetings travelers,” one of the men said as he stepped forward. “On behalf of the Omnirian Empire, I welcome you to Gate City. Please state your name and b—”
Before the guard could finish, a second man burst forward from the grouping of guards and ran over to them.
“My Lord!” he shouted, fumbling over his words. “Please forgive our discourtesy!” The guard then gave a deferential bow of his head toward Perry. The first man seemed confused by this sudden change of title. When the first guard remained silent, the second man turned around and shoved him.
“Are you daft!? Present Lord Perry Mannigold with proper respect!”
A dawning of realization melted over the man’s face and at once he stooped low and began profusely apologizing.
“F-Forgive me, my lord! Er— Sir Perry? Lord Mannigold. My Lord, Sir Perry M—”
“There is no need for apology,” Perry cut in quickly. “Forgive me, Captain Arnold, for not flying our banners. It was our intention to remain inconspicuous along the road, for protection.”
Captain Arnold and his bumbling guardsman nodded in agreement, whilst the other guards leaned in and began nodding along as well.
“Of course, Lord Mannigold. One can never be too careful.”
“As for our manner of business,” Ingrid began as she reached into her satchel, “I believe this should suffice.”
In her hand she presented the parchment which had been delivered to the barracks. Upon laying eyes on the seal of the Royal Advisory Council, the guards each gave a moment of stunned silence.
“O-of course,” one of the men said with a nod as he took the parchment to read it over.
“Sir Perry,” the first man read aloud, “And…”
The guardsman trailed off as he read further. His eyes drifted down the parchment, then peaked over top as he scanned Perry’s group. A few moments later, his eyes widened as he spotted Telhari resting quietly atop his horse near the rear of the carriage.
“Sir…Telhari?”
“I am Sir Telhari of the Starspawn,” he said with a nod of his head.
“Telhari of the Starspawn…” Perry muttered with a wry grin, “It does have a nice ring to it.”
“A fine title indeed,” Arnold added with a desperate smile.
The first guard rolled the parchment back up and handed it over to Ingrid. As she pocketed it, Captain Arnold leaned in and spoke to her.
“If you continue down this road, you will reach the central courtyard. From there, follow Balandil Street for a few minutes and you will come across a large building, several stories tall and reaching into the Aria Via. Special lodgings have been prepared for you there.”
Ellis and Mary looked eagerly at each other, excited by the notion of ‘special lodgings’. But when they looked to Perry, he did not seem particularly elated; instead, he wore a complicated expression, which was shared by Captain Arnold. Ellis raised an eyebrow to Mary, but as Perry snapped the reins and the cart lurched forward, the two decided to ignore it.
“Thank you, Arnold,” Perry said as they rolled forward.
Captain Arnold stole one last side-long glance at Telhari as he rode past them on horseback. He then stepped back into place with the other guards and remained at attention.
Ellis watched as the streets of Gate City unfolded before him. But as he traced the manicured facades and intricate masonry of each building, his eye were drawn upward. Like the trunks of great forest trees, towering columns of stone shot towards the sky, holding aloft a second layer to the city. Polished pathways wove between the supporting columns to create a network of streets which mimicked the ones below in function, but which were entirely novel in their grandeur and mystique.
A second city, floating above the first— the Aria Via.
Ellis wracked his brain trying to imagine what it must have been like to build such a grand display. But his attention was suddenly drawn back down by Mary’s surprise.
“Look! Over there!”
A few thousand feet ahead, set in the space between the overpasses of the Aria, stood a grand courtyard. Foundations of iridescent, swirling marble slabs glowed beneath the full splendor of the wakened sun. The courtyard was constructed of three concentric zones and was fed by the five main streets of Gate City. Each street passed through a welcoming arched gateway, which marked the transition from cobbled stone to marble foundations. The outer ring was marked by a peristyle of finest design which ran the perimeter of the courtyard and merged with the five gateways. Each sculpted column of the peristyle bore inscriptions along their bottom border too complex for Ellis to make out from this distance. The second ring of the courtyard was made of alternating benches and garden beds which sat on raised marble platforms; opalescent sculptures of native fauna stood vigilant over the garden beds, with their poses bright and cheerful. Though presently bare, Ellis wondered what the gardens might look like come the spring time. But despite the impressive peristyle enclosure and the would-be magnificent gardens, the real attraction lay beyond. The final area of the courtyard boasted a glorious circular fountain, carved from the purest white marble. Three great glittering lions rose from within the water to flaunt their magnificence and size for all to see. Two of their heads were bent downward, as if drinking, and from their mouths spilled a steady stream of crystal clear water. The third lion stood between them, gazing upward. Greater still, and rising from a platform around which the lions circled, was the statue of a man— clad in armor, holding an imposing sword in his outstretched hand.
“It seems they completed it in time,” Ellis overheard Ingrid say to Perry.
“Who is that?” he asked them.
Perry smiled and looked to the sky in remembrance.
“That is a statue of our late High King, Reynard Rhoden IV.”
