Mirelle pointed her finger forward.
Lugh traced the path with his eyes, following the line of her finger until his gaze landed on a building some distance away.
"That's the bar,"
She said plainly.
He frowned.
"I'm not too sure about this."
"Oh, quit your whining,"
Sela cut in, voice half-mocking.
He splayed his arms.
"I'm only fifteen."
"Don't worry,"
Mirelle added, her tone amused.
"They also serve fruit juice."
Under the cloak of darkness, an inconspicuous carriage rolled quietly down the winding streets of Pyrellis.
The journey had been long and wearying, but the destination was now in sight. The vehicle had officially crossed the water channel—a network of interconnected systems that formed a near-perfect circular boundary around the core area of the city.
Originally, that was where the city had ended.
The architects who first designed Pyrellis had structured it so that the water channels spanned throughout, marking both utility and limit.
