The caravan rolled through Velria's gates beneath the last light of day, the horizon painted in hues of rose and amber. The city was alive with noise and color, its stone streets bustling with people even as the sun dipped low. Towers of pale granite loomed above, crowned with banners of crimson and gold that rippled in the evening breeze.
Velria was not just another waypoint. Saeko could feel it in the air—the hum of activity, the faint scent of incense from shrines, the clang of hammers in forges still at work, and the chatter of countless voices blending into a living rhythm. This was a city that pulsed with its own heartbeat, steady and proud.
Barin, the merchant, practically beamed as his wagons entered the trade district. "Safe and sound! And with every barrel, crate, and bolt of cloth intact. By the gods, Saeko, I owe you more than I can count."
