Lumenia was a city designed to make you feel small.
White marble streets reflected the harsh sunlight. Tall, pale spires reached into the sky, spotless and lacking any real character. The city was beautiful, but it felt like a cage.
Mirabelle was dragged through the Avenue of Saints. Her hands were bound with silver chains. Silver Knights flanked her on all sides, their armor clanking in rhythm.
Unlike the quiet crowds in the capital, these people shouted and screamed.
"Heretic!" "Whore of the Abyss!" "Burn her!"
Rotten fruit and stones flew through the air. A rock hit Mirabelle's shoulder, but she didn't react. She stared straight ahead, her face showing only bored disdain.
'Rude,' Revas' voice echoed in her mind. 'That man in the brown tunic threw a turnip. Who throws a turnip? It doesn't even fly well.'
