Viktor sat in his window seat, gaping at the wonders of Genbofen. The vehicle followed the main road into the city and rattled on the cobblestones that paved the streets.
In the eighteen years of his life, Viktor had visited cities before, of course. Once or twice a year he had accompanied his father to the main market in Vengenholt to collect alms from the Church of Mortis and to purchase supplies for the Chipped Chapel. But Genbofen was something very different, five times the size of Vengenholt and with a population six times the size. For the young magic student it was a wonderful thing to behold.