VØⱠɄ₥Ɇ 4, ₱₳Ɽ₮ 7 - Respite: Versteckte Plane.
~5175 words
Almost muffled footsteps echoed softly through the corridor as a boy made his way towards the entrance of the office of the impressive house nestled on the outskirts of the Begaritt continent. The grandeur of the exterior was unmistakable, a testament to the significance of the occupant residing within.
Yet, as he pushed open the heavy wooden door, he was greeted by an unexpected contrast.
Stepping into the vast, modestly decorated office, Julian found himself surrounded by an air of understated elegance. The substantiality that might have been expected from the exterior was exchanged for a simple yet refined aesthetic.
Warm hues of mahogany and deep greens colored the walls, adorned with intricately woven dossers depicting scenes of nature's tranquility.
The furniture was equally unassuming yet meticulously chosen. A large, polished desk stood as the centerpiece, dominating the space. One intricately carved chair was placed behind the desk, while on the other side, two smaller chairs sat facing each other.
The chairs bore the same theme of rich wood and deep greens, seamlessly blending with the ambiance of the room.
It was the desk, however, that commanded attention. Its polished surface gleamed softly under the warm lighting, and neatly stacked documents were arranged with an air of methodical precision. A few personal mementos, like a delicate vase of wildflowers, added a touch of warmth to the otherwise businesslike atmosphere.
Amid this harmonious blend of comfort and professionalism, a subtle symphony floated through the air. Its gentle melodies seemed to intertwine with the very essence of the room, creating an atmosphere of serenity.
Julian's gaze shifted, seeking the source of this enchanting music. And there, to the side, he found the composer.
Seated beside an ornate harmonium, its polished wood reflecting the ambient light, was the figure who Julian had come to meet – the Dragon God Orsted. His eyes were closed in serene concentration, his fingers tapping delicately over his own body as if weaving the notes into an aggregate of their own.
The harmonium's sounds resonated with a soothing elegance.
The Dragon God's presence exuded an aura of quiet authority, a blend of wisdom and ageless power. Yet right now, he seemed like just another normal person, simply enjoying the peculiar music.
As the final notes of the harmonium's melody cascaded into the air and gently faded, Orsted opened his eyes, revealing irises that mirrored the sun. His gaze met Julian's with a calm acknowledgement.
"You're here." He spoke up.
"Seems like it." Julian replied, walking over to him and took his coat off. As he sat down, he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up. "So, uh, why am I here?" He asked, looking up at him.
Orsted's expressions hardened as he leaned forward, "This timeline has already changed to an extent that I can no longer predict what is going to happen. This spells serious trouble. Coupled with the fact that the loop with Rudeus in it is becoming hazy by every day makes me feel like I am back to square one." He confided in, interlinking his fingers.
"Hm. I know that much. What is the problem here?" Julian asked as he picked up the kettle with blue flowers made over it and poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked at Orsted and raised a brow.
"Yes, please." Orsted replied, carrying the same stern look as before. "The problem for now is the Asura Kingdom. Not in its current state, but the future one."
Julian listened to him, the words coming out of his mouth capturing the entirety of his attention. Reaching out for the small plate with sugary cubes in them, he looked at Orsted again. His features hardened but he sighed and shook his head, "Two."
"Alright." Julian replied, "By future state do you mean a revolution that would be brought forward by the rulers?"
Orsted looked at Julian for a while, amazed at how quickly he reached to the conclusion. "Yes. If the first prince is crowned king, he will lead it into an era of warriors which will make the kingdom crumble down. However, as long as Ariel is the ruler and it's directed towards the magician era, the kingdom will thrive."
"So its not about her kids?" Julian asked, picking the little spoon up and stirring the contents of the cup elegantly.
"Her kids carry next to almost no significance. That could change if she actually took a husband this time." Orsted looked at Julian with a suspicious look.
"Should I?" Julian asked, tilting his head.
"The present has drastically changed. I can't care about what you do anymore."
"But you still need me."
"Yes."
There was no hesitation in Orsted's voice. No shame. No honor. He had lived over countless loops and over a thousand years. Despite having knowledge of the future, he was unable to defeat that one person he vowed to kill. No matter what he tried, no matter what he did, no matter how much he interfered or left things to their natural flow. All ended up in his failure.
That meant only one thing. The one last piece in the grand puzzle of enmity between the Dragon God Orsted and Man God.
Handing out the cup to Orsted, Julian slumped back into his chair and took a sip from his coffee. "What do you want from me then?"
"I want to ask something." Orsted began after taking a hot sip from his cup as well. "What do you think might be happening right now? Ariel Anemoi Asura had near calls with deaths at this time due to numerous assassination attempts. However, things have changed. Do you think she will survive? Because even if we use circles, we can't reach her in time."
"You can say I know a few things." Julian spoke in a tired way, his shoulders slumping as he felt his body melt in the velvet clothed chair.
"And?"
"Boreas Greyrats are still under Sauros' control. That would lead to three situations. Eris Greyrat staying with her family or immediately leaving with or without Rudeus. What do you think is the probability distribution between these 3 scenarios?" Julian asked as he whirled his cup, swirling its contents inside, reflecting his glowing eyes.
"Arithmethics? 33.33%?"
"Normally, yes. But what is the girl's temperament like? Taking that into account, the probability analysis would remove one by the method of elimination and now we have two scanarios. A 50% for each. She has a wild spirit so she will definitely leave the estate. Will Rudeus be with her or not, is the real question."
"Why is presence of Rudeus Greyrat such an important thing?"
"Think about it, Orsted." Julian leaned foward, "You want Asura to thrive. Why would Man God desire?"
"For it to crumble."
"How will it crumble?"
"Under the rule of first prince, Grabell Asura."
"How can he manipulate Grabell?"
"By manipulating his most trusted aide, Darius Silva."
"And what happened to Darius?"
"You----" Suddenly everything started to fall into place. "The fall of prime minister, the death of second prince and now this...since when?" Orsted asked, his eyes wide.
"Not too long ago. Now that indirect link has ended, he will definitely try direct contact."
"He most likely will."
"Which house of Greyrats support Grabell?"
"Boreas, of course."
"And if events altered and Sauros is alive, what will happen to Rudeus and Eris?"
Orsted fell silent, placing his chin on his fingers, "Rudeus Greyrat will marry into Boreas house."
"That wasn't what I was implying but ok. What I meant was that Man God might have a new apostle. If Rudeus is sent there, it means we know who to end next." Julian commented.
"Will you to rescue the princess?" Orsted asked, frowning.
"Of course not. I can't reach there in time. And I don't want to." Julian shrugged his shoulders.
"Then?"
'He really is a simpleton.' Julian thought to himself.
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The carriage journeyed forth with a relentless determination, its wheels negotiating the rugged terrain with a rhythmic clitter clatter. Each jolt and rattle sent vibrations rippling through the wooden frame, creating a systematic judder that echoed the heartbeat of their expedition.
The clitter-clatter of hooves against the uneven ground formed a steady cadence, a constant reminder of the path they carved through the wild expanse.
Sunlight, filtered through the interlinked branches above, painting fleeting strokes of warmth and luminance. Like scattered pieces of gold, these luminous streaks danced across the compartment's interior, casting transient patterns upon the occupants within.
Dust motes, illuminated by the sun's touch, swirled in the air, infusing the atmosphere with an almost ethereal glow.
Almost.
Amidst this interplay of light and shadow, a young girl of about fifteen years occupied a space of quiet elegance---Princess Ariel Anemoi Asura, the second princess and also second in line to the Asura Kingdom's throne---emanated an air of grace even in the face of the carriage's relentless journey and the horrifying reality.
The reality of her life being in constant danger----like a sword hanging atop her head.
Her long, golden blonde hair flowed like molten honey down her back, catching the sporadic rays of sunlight that managed to infiltrate the carriage's confines. Dark blue eyes, reminiscent of the ocean depths, held a spirited look that mirrored the world outside.
Ariel was adorned in a fashion that bridged the worlds of tradition and modernity---at least according to the current era.
Her red and black frilly suit was an expression of her complex character, the bold red accents contrasting with the sobering black fabric to create a striking ensemble. The red, reminiscent of blooming roses, adorned the edges of her dress and the cuffs of her sleeves, a symbol of her regal lineage.
The black, stark against her fair skin lend her a rather peculiar look. Without a doubt, she was one of prettiest women the kingdom has produced. With an overwhelming charisma and looks, she was indeed a sight to behold.
Beside Ariel sat a figure of enigmatic allure. His silver hair shimmered like liquid mercury, catching the sun's caress and transforming it into an otherworldly gleam. Silent Fitz.
Fitz's presence was an enigma wrapped in calm, his ever-present sunglasses shielding his eyes from prying gazes, leaving only a sense of mystery in their wake. Despite the carriage's ceaseless motion, he exuded a tranquil aura, as though he were unaffected by the outside world's tumult.
Although, for some reason, THE Silent Fitz looked more effeminate than usual in the brisk sunlight.
Fitz's robes, a rather sickly shade of grey, billowed gently in the breeze that infiltrated the carriage through the open windows. His gloved hands rested in his lap, a visual juxtaposition of the hidden power they held within – the power to cast spells woven in silence.
Seated before Ariel and Fitz was Luke, an older companion whose presence exuded a blend of rugged charm and nothing else. His light brown hair and emerald-green eyes carried a blank look. After all, his eyes would only sparken up when he saw women with exceptionally large breasts.
Luke's attire, the robe of a warrior, was a testament to his role as Ariel's knight. His sword was detached from his belt and rested alongside him. Beside his sword, there was another short sword. However, it did not belong to him.
It belonged to someone one could never expect of using it.
"Say Fitz, why do you have that sword with you?" Luke asked suddenly, seemingly bored out of his mind.
"Well, I was once told that I will need it. I did not give it much thought until now but ever since the assassination attempts on Ariel-sama has increased, I've started realising its importance." Fitz replied, picking the sword up and looking at it with a look of nostalgia.
"Oh, him again? What was his name.....errr, Rudeus, huh?" Luke managed to remember the name of the person.
Fitz suddenly felt his face heat up, "Uhm...no. It's not him..... actually, it was his younger brother, Julian Greyrat."
Ariel felt her ears perk up at his name but looked away the next moment. After all, she knew he was dead now.
"Oh, he was a good chap. A shame he died." Luke spoke with a sullen tone. "We travelled together for a while back when he came for the escort mission, but I never thought someone like him would die."
"Mhm. He was amazing. I have always looked up to him. He taught me to use the sword as well." Fitz explained, his long elf ears drooping.
Suddenly, the lighthearted atmosphere grew heavy. It stayed as such until one of the butlers broke the silence.
"Princess!"
(***)
A crevice ran through the earth----not shallow, rather deep. The very surface of the land ruptured asunder, a seismic convulsion giving birth to a cleavage that sundered the earth into two parts. From the very core of this geological parting, a monolithic stone pillar ascended with an almost reverent deliberation.
The stone pillar's smooth top touched with the underbelly of the caster's supple leather boots. With an unhurried motion, the colossal pillar of earth embarked on an ascent toward the heavens, propelling the boy ever skyward.
The air got stronger, and so did the sounds of the birds that soared and ruled the skies---A crescendo of avian melodies. The gaseous mass of clouds floated above his head, casting a frigid veil over his exposed skin---arms and neck as he got closer and closer to them.
"This will do." In a near-whisper, laden with conviction, the young boy's voice brushed the air. His hand extended, fingers outstretching, until he reached an altitude tantalizingly close to the cloud bank, but not yet enshrouded within.
He looked down, the breathtaking panorama unfolded before his eyes—an unending carpet of green---the forest stretched out in all its natural splendor. It seemed to stretch beyond the horizon, its limit seemingly beyond the realm of perception.
With a contemplative exhale, he surrendered his vision to darkness, sealing his green eyes shut, attuning his senses to the symphony of voices that enveloped him.
Amidst the rustle of leaves and the distant calls of fauna, a profound introspection swept over him. How much time had passed since he last felt this unwavering resolve, this unyielding determination that now coursed through him?
Never. This was the first time---an inaugural experience, unlike any he had encountered before. He never tried, never knew what real hard work meant. He lacked the conviction and the heart to do so. He lacked the discipline---an unexplored terrain. The roots of his deficiency laid in a scarcity of resolute belief and a void within his core that yearned for direction.
He was a victim of a lack of direction in his past life---a life shadowed by both haunting memories and the weight of his own self-inflicted deterioration.
But he had a purpose now. A family. The aversion to end a human life that remained rooted inside him like a parasite, was no more there---fading into the annals of his history.
As his eyes fluttered open, his gaze descended, tracing the contours of the terrain below. There, etched like the path of a hideous snake, laid a rugged and uneven road that wound its way through the heart of the forest. With a narrowing of his eyes, he concentrated his vision, gradually discerning the object of his focus—the carriage he had set his sights on—discernible amidst the landscape.
With a deliberate motion, he withdrew the cloth that had veiled the tip of his amagic staff—a staff known as Aqua Hertia. The concealing fabric danced and fluttered, whisked away by the tempestuous gusts, vanishing from view in the span of a heartbeat. Lowering his gaze, he directed his attention to the orb of azure nestled at the crown of his magical implement.
A fleeting expression of regret passed over his features, a shadow that momentarily traversed his face. However, he fortified his resolve, a palpable determination that tightened the grasp he held upon the staff. His fingers turned paled under the pressure exerted as he readied himself for what lay ahead.
With a resolute inner fortitude, he steadied himself, even as his legs quivered with a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation.
Was it the frigid bite of the high-altitude air that sent shivers through his limbs, or was it the subconscious resistance to the impending reality—ending a life that meant no harm to him—that provoked his physical unease? Even he could not discern the true source of his trembling.
"Fuuuuuu...." Escaping from his lips, a deep exhalation carried the wisps of his mixed emotions into the atmosphere. Countless instances of brushing against death had marked his journey through this world.
Selfishness had been replaced with a profound appreciation for the second lease on life he had been granted. Yet, the intricate web of connections he had woven since then, these relationships forged anew, had become an unyielding bulwark against his demise.
He acknowledged the strength of these bonds, their insistence on his survival resonating deep within him. He recognized that conceding defeat was no longer an option, for his newfound existence was interwoven with others who depended on him.
So, he practiced his magic like his life depended on it. When Eris wasn't around, he would practice his magic, weaponising it in every way. When she was around, he would think of the ways how to use his magic when she won't be around anymore.
That determination alone gave birth to a King Ranked Magician. Arguably one of the youngest. A King Ranked Magician at the tender age of 13. "I won't let Eris get into danger like that again." He spoke to himself but even those words felt nothing more than a murmur due to the roaring winds. "I'll make it rain fire if that's what it takes."
[Earth Magic --- Stone Cannon --- Max Output]
[Fire Magic --- Flash Fire --- Max Output]
"Extinction time, baby~" That was the chant that he came up with as he raised his staff into the air. The clouds turned dark and then a scorching shade of orange.
[King Ranked Melded Magic --- Draco Meteor]
A relentless onslaught of stone cannons, their count reaching an astonishing hundred, materialized in the sky. The artillery pieces, caught in a frenzy of blazing flames and spinning at their utmost velocity, manifested as a fearsome spectacle. With synchronized precision, they pivoted downward, aligning their barrels with the terrestrial target.
The boy---Rudeus, flicked his staff that harbored the augmented potency of his magic, set in motion a cascade of events. The projectiles, like vengeful meteors, hurtled earthward, their trajectory guided by his new spell.
And then...
*boom*
Like doom's harbinger, the potency of the spell echoed relentlessly through the very heart of the forest. As the stone cannons descended with a rapidity that defied nature, their incandescent halos and frantic rotations imbued them with a fearsome aura.
Upon impact, they became harbingers of chaos, their collision with the ground triggering a systematic detonation that shattered the tranquility of the woods.
A shockwave, born of raw and unbridled power, radiated outward with an insatiable hunger. Towering trees, ancient guardians of the forest succumbed to the ferocity of the onslaught, their majestic forms bowing before the unyielding, harrowing heat.
The very earth quivered under the assault; its surface upheaved in protest. The air itself vibrated with a frenetic energy, carrying the iridescent remnants of the spell's discharge, which illuminated the scene in a morbid glow.
Amid this turbulent upheaval, the distant carriage—once a mere silhouette—found itself ensnared in the ever-expanding grip of devastation. The initial impact was an inferno of cataclysmic proportions, obliterating the conveyance and its contents in a deafening roar of fragmented debris and scorching flames.
The ensuing pandemonium consumed the remnants of the carriage, leaving nothing but smoldering wreckage amidst the havoc that had eclipsed the serene heart of the forest. The bones of the ones inside were reduced to black char, no different than coal used in barbeque.
(bruh, what am I even saying? Ignore my high ass typing an author's note in the middle of the chapter. I am having a midlife crisis.)
"Oh shit, looks like I overdid it." Rudeus spoke as he saw the entirety of the forest reduced to ashes. "Well then, mission complete, I guess. Time to report back to the prince."
Dispelling the stone pillar, he reached back to the ground surface. The sole of his boots deftly touched the ground. He turned around, his robe making a fluttering sound. However, as he was about to turn away, he heard someone walk behind him.
His body froze. With his body creaking, he looked back cautiously. The strength in his limbs sapped, and his face lost all of its color. He fell on his back, his face contorting into an alchemy of disbelieve and fear. The figure that stood in front of him looked him straight in the eyes, his gaze piercing despite the porcelain mask with streams of red tears flowing down.
The hair was shorter, although it was the same shade. "You...." Rudeus' voice turned into a whisper as he looked back at the stationary individual, looking at the scale of devastation.
"Did you kill Princess Ariel?" The figure spoke, casting a sidelong glance.
The words spoken by Hitogami reverberated in his mind. His throat suddenly felt parched, and the back of his throat burnt with a bitter feeling. He did not want to utter the words that lingered on the precipice of his tongue, ready to spill over.
He hesitated, not wanting to say it. His hearts belabor against the ribcage was violent---enough to make him feel it in his throat. "Julian?" The words came out in one swift play, despite his reluctance to say it. He didn't mean to ask it, and now that he said it out loud, he did not want to hear the answer. Truth did not matter to him.
He was just that kind of person.
A degenerate but someone who truly loved the ones he respected. And his own brother was the one he respected the most. Even more than his father. After all, he played such a big part in bringing him outside the house.
The figure reached out for the mask and half removed it. Blood rushed to Rudeus' face and he felt the pounding of his heart in his ears. He saw it----a smile he wasn't used to. The smiling face of his brother---Julian Greyrat. "Took you long enough, brother."
"W-Why..."
"Why am I alive? Are you not happy to see me alive, brother?" The figure spoke, putting his mack back up.
"No...Why? WHY?"
"What why?"
"Why did you kill me that day? Why did you side with the Dragon God? Tell me!" Rudeus demanded, his voice quivering as he slowly stood up to his feet. His eyes stung as he looked at the figure's towering posture.
"I had to." His reply was short and curt.
"Are you----"
"And as much as it pains me to do so, I have to do it again. Don't hold it against me." The figure said and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"You know, I got engaged to Eris." Rudeus spoke with a sad smile as his eyes stung.
"And?" The figure asked in mock annoyance.
"We would get married once we reached 15. I thought if I have a son, I'll give him a name similar to yours, like Julius or something." Rudeus continued as thick drops of tears fell on the burnt ground beneath him. His shoulders quivered, as he sobbed out loud. "Tell me, Julian..... how many innocents have you killed until now?"
"A lot."
"Do you regret them?"
"No."
"And you want to kill me?"
"Of course."
"Will you stop your madness here if you I let you to?"
"I will think about it."
Rudeus let out a heavy sigh. Using the sleeve of his robe, he wiped his tears and with bloodshot eyes, he brought his staff in front of him. Holding the left side of his chest firmly, he bit his mouth, "Sorry then, Julian. I'll have to end you here as well." He said as the heatwaves started to rise from his sides.
"That's the spirit." He replied and unsheathed his sword.
[Stone Canon]
The spinning projectile of explosive firepower shot towards "Julian" with a rapid speed, spinning at an odd velocity. He swung his sword down at it but Rudeus' red face brightened in that instant. "Gotcha."
The trajectory of the spell changed, and the sword that was coming downwards couldn't stop the upward trajectory of the drilling stone. With a splatter of blood and sickening crack of the shoulder blade, the [Stone Canon] pierced it, spraying blood everywhere.
"Heads up!" Rudeus called out as a massive boulder came crashing down on him. He spun on his heel and got into a lowered stance, and with one swift swing, cleaved the boulder in half.
"Not 1. Not 2. Take all these!" Around 10 more boulders that were the size of a moderately sized house came crashing down on him. He danced around them, avoiding half and slashing the other half with ease. Realising Rudeus was keeping his distance, he unsheathed a dagger from the inside of his robe and threw it at him.
A surge of heatwave blew out from Rudeus, melting the dagger's hilt and metal. "I have seen that before. What happened, Julian? Why are you like this, huh? Are you taking pity on me? I am weak, yes. But I don't need your pity! Come on, kill me. Kill me like you did before!" Rudeus' voice was a thundering rumble, his voice a raspy cold one as he hurtled one spell after another.
"Julian" stepped back, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of attacks. A canopy formed in the sky of red, blue, green and grey-ish color as spells of every element rained down on him. His sword became a blur, cutting through magic and physical objects alike. However, the spells never ended, and Rudeus' mana pool was far from over.
'Something isn't right.'
Rudeus fired off a Saint Ranked Fire Spell --- Flash Fire.
'Something isn't right.'
Rudeus let out a cry and casted Saint Ranked Water Spell --- Cumulonimbus
'Something isn't right.'
Rudeus casted another Flash Fire.
'No. It's alright.' He assured himself. His heart ached and wether it was the sweat or the emotional turmoil inside him, his eyes were screaming in protest. He wasn't blinking and tears flowed endlessly.
Suddenly, a whirlwind emerged from where his spells held a conjecture, and a figure appeared right in front of him, sword in hand. "Good tactic to overwhelm me with spells, but its over." He swung his sword at Rudeus' head. The image of Eris reeling on the ground as she attempted to reach his donut-fied body flashed in his mind.
"Yep, it's over." Rudeus stomped on the ground.
[Quagmire]
The figure fell into Quagmire as Rudeus looked down on him. He pointed the staff and pokes it at his head, "I love you, Julian, my brother. If only you didn't lose your mind." He stifled a sob. Mana started to gather at its tip as a stone canon formed.
However, he flapped his hands around and suddenly smoke started to rise up. Rudeus suddenly started to cough, falling on to his knees. He tried to look up, but his vision doubled. He flicked his wrist, and a gust of wind cleared the area. From the corner of his eyes, he saw him running into the woods.
Staggering and carrying a double vision, he weakly stood up. "I won't let you go. He was right..." Rudeus paused, ".....I'll free your body."
[Stone Canon --- Max Output --- Max Rotation]
Rudeus poured every ounce of magical power into it.
"Goodbye, dear brother of mine."
With a cacophonous, deafening explosion the spell zipped through the air, tearing it as it landed in an instant and blew his left half. However, Rudeus' vision was strained, and it had missed its mark by a lot. Only his left hand was blown away. Although, it was a fatal wound. He will die.
Rudeus fell to his knee and casted detoxification magic at himself.
When he came to his senses, he saw only a trail of blood and no signs of Julian.
Suddenly his eyes stung again. He wanted to cry but he didn't. After all, he just killed him by his own hands. He had no right.
Standing up, with a heavy heart, he turned around and started walking back home.
His spirit was broken but something else solidified in him. Two feelings.
(i) Trust toward the Man-God.
(ii) And an unlimited hatred towards the Dragon God.
"I will kill you for taking my brother away from me. For turning him into something like this." Rudeus' voice was like a harrowing sound of a chilly wind---sharp and dangerous. "Whatever it takes."
(***)
As the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, a warm and golden hue settled upon the cityscape. The ethereal light cast long shadows that stretched across cobblestone streets and aged buildings, lending an air of tranquility to the urban landscape.
The bustling energy of the day gradually mellowed, giving way to a more contemplative atmosphere as the world prepared to embrace the embrace of twilight.
As the sky painted itself in hues of orange and pink, a distant murmur emerged from the direction of the city gates. The steady rhythm of hooves against the cobbled pathway created a gentle percussion that echoed through the narrow alleys and open squares.
With each measured footfall, the sound grew nearer, accompanied by the creaking protest of wooden wheels in motion. It was the arrival of a carriage, a herald of evening's arrival.
The city guards, stationed at the formidable gates, turned their attention to the approaching sound. A muted symphony of metal clinking against metal accompanied their actions as they secured their armor, adjusting straps and grips with well-practiced efficiency.
The insignia on the approaching carriage was recognized—a mark of privilege and identity. It was a symbol that commanded respect and deference, for it belonged someone of prominence.
As the carriage drew closer, the guards' watchful gazes met with the insignia's presence, and their expressions shifted from cautious alertness to an acknowledging nod. Swift commands were exchanged, and the great gates, which had stood sentinel throughout the day, began to yield to the efforts of the guards.
The heavy metallic doors groaned in reluctant response, their imposing presence granting passage to the approaching vehicle.
With each protesting creak, the gap widened, revealing a view of the world beyond the city's protective walls. The carriage, ornate and imposing, rolled forward, its wheels rolling over the threshold of the gates with a measured determination. The evening's waning light cast intricate patterns upon its polished surfaces, lending an air of regality to its presence.
A sense of anticipation hung in the air as the carriage crossed the threshold, the portal between the city's interior and the outside world. The guards' disciplined formations, their swords glinting in the fading sunlight, created an avenue of honor that the carriage navigated with grace.
The city gates closed behind the departing guards, resuming their vigilant watch over the tranquil city that stretched before them. And thus, as the evening advanced and the city's embrace grew warmer, the sound of the carriage continued to echo.
Suddenly, the lighthearted atmosphere grew heavy. It stayed as such until one of the butlers broke the silence.
"Princess!" He announced, "We have arrived in the Capital City of Sharia."