The Capital of Mysteries

Chapter 21: The Capital of Mysteries

The road to the capital was long and winding, lined with rolling hills and patches of forest, but Alden barely noticed the scenery. His thoughts were consumed by the work he had prepared, by the paper that sat in his satchel—his reintroduction of Mendel's laws of inheritance, a groundbreaking revelation in a world that had yet to comprehend the beauty of genetics. But nothing could have prepared him for the sights that greeted him as he entered the capital.

As his carriage crested the final hill, Alden's breath caught in his throat. The capital city stretched before him like a living tapestry, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. Tall spires reached toward the sky, their stonework glittering with embedded gemstones that caught the light in dazzling hues of crimson, sapphire, and emerald. Streets wove through the city like arteries, pulsating with life as people bustled to and fro. The city was alive in a way Alden had never experienced before.

The sheer size of the place dwarfed the small estates and villages he had come to know in his years of seclusion. This was a city built not just by human hands but shaped by magic itself. Towering above the city's core was the Royal Citadel, a majestic structure of silver and white stone that shimmered unnaturally, as if the very air around it pulsed with magical energy. It seemed to defy gravity, floating a few inches above the ground, supported by magic too ancient and powerful for Alden to fully grasp.

But what truly took his breath away was the people. As the carriage entered the city gates, Alden found himself surrounded by individuals of every rank and class—merchants, scholars, nobles, and even street performers—but what shocked him most was the magic on full display. He had seen glimpses of magic before in his secluded life, but here, it was woven into the very fabric of existence.

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A gust of wind suddenly blew past him, and Alden looked up just in time to see a figure soaring through the sky. It was a young woman, her cloak billowing behind her, riding on a current of air as though gravity had no claim on her. She hovered above the bustling market square for a moment before descending gracefully, her feet touching the cobblestone as gently as a leaf falling to the ground. The people around her barely blinked, as if seeing someone use wind magic to fly was as mundane as crossing the street.

Alden's heart raced with excitement and awe. This was magic in its purest form—casual, powerful, and interwoven with everyday life. His scientific mind reeled, wondering how such magic might intertwine with the biological world. Could it be harnessed? Could magic and genetics be merged into something even more profound? The questions buzzed in his head, but there was no time to linger. He had to keep moving.

As he continued deeper into the city, he noticed more displays of casual power. An old man snapped his fingers, and a gust of wind swept the dust from the street before him. Children played in the alleyways, using small bursts of flame to light makeshift torches as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. Even the vendors seemed to have magical tools—one waved her hand over a crate of fish, and a sheen of frost spread across the surface, preserving her wares with a casual flick of her wrist.

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Then, Alden saw something that truly made him pause. High above, cutting through the sky like a streak of silver, was a figure in flowing robes, standing atop a sword. He watched in stunned silence as the person glided effortlessly on the blade, the sharp edge reflecting the last rays of sunlight. The figure wove through the air with precision, controlling the sword as though it were an extension of their body. This was no simple wind magic; it was something more refined, more deliberate. Alden's eyes narrowed, recognizing the glint of metal magic at work.

The sword rider descended toward one of the city's many spires, landing gracefully on a balcony with a flourish. For a moment, the rider looked out over the city, their robes fluttering in the wind, before disappearing inside the tower. Alden's heart pounded in his chest. Metal magic, a rarity even among the elite of this world, was something he had only read about in passing. To see it in action was a testament to the immense power held by those who had truly mastered the magical arts.

And yet, Alden felt no fear. Instead, a sense of purpose swelled within him. He wasn't just here to marvel at the wonders of magic; he was here to bring something of equal wonder to this world. Genetics was its own form of magic, the magic of life, hidden in every cell, every seed. It had the potential to change the world just as much as the soaring figures in the sky.

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As the carriage wound through the streets, Alden's destination came into view: the Hall of Scholars. It was an imposing building, grand but with an understated elegance, built of ancient stone and adorned with carvings of mythical beasts and plants, as if to symbolize the union of knowledge and nature. The wide steps leading to the entrance were lined with statues of philosophers, mages, and inventors—men and women whose discoveries had shaped the world.

Alden stepped out of the carriage, clutching his satchel tightly. He had brought something new to this world, something that could rival the magic in the skies. Genetics, the unseen force that dictated the shape of life, was his gift to this world. But first, he had to convince the scholars, the mages, and the intellectual elite of the capital that this science was worth their attention.

He glanced up at the sky one more time, where the sword rider had vanished. Magic was everywhere here, but it was not invincible. Alden would show them that life itself had its own magic, written in the very code of existence. With a deep breath, he stepped forward, ready to face the challenges that awaited him.

Inside the Hall of Scholars, the future of genetics—and perhaps the world—awaited.