The two massive doors swung open with a groan that rumbled in Gray's chest. Cold light spilled in first, flooding the chamber where they waited. Then, once the light had died enough for his eyes to adjust, he saw what lay ahead.
Another set of twin doors loomed just beyond, the space between like a throat in the wall. They stepped forward, and the first set sealed behind them, shutting with a weighty thud. For a moment, Gray felt caught in some creature's mouth, waiting to be swallowed.
The second set opened.
And light poured through.
Gray blinked furiously, shielding his eyes with his still-stiff hand. When his vision steadied, the sight nearly buckled his knees.
Not jagged ice, not broken stone, not the endless cruelty of Glacierfang.
The City of Dawn spread before him like a painting come to life. Countless houses, roofs of clay and wood pressed together in winding rows, spread outward from wide cobbled streets. Stalls lined the roads, merchants shouting out wares while customers haggled, voices weaving into a chorus of daily life. The air carried smells of baked bread, roasting meat, and incense. Children darted between adults, laughter rising above the steady hum of voices.
His throat tightened.
"Gods," Renn whispered beside him, voice cracking. "They're… normal."
Lira's eyes swept across the square, she looked down and whispered quietly.
"Normal..."
Gray hardly heard her. He couldn't tear his gaze away. The houses looked like the sketches he had once pored over in old books, stacked timber frames, pale stone walls, tiled roofs. Smoke drifted lazily from chimneys. It looked lived in, safe. It looked like something out of a dream he had never dared to have.
He noticed that many of the people had paused to stare at them. Not with fear. Not with suspicion. But with open curiosity. Children peeked from behind their mothers' skirts. A vendor stopped mid-call, an apple dangling from his hand. Whispers floated on the breeze.
After a few seconds they went back on with their day. As if forgetting them.
"Feels like they've never seen folk crawl out of the mountains half-dead before," Adel muttered. Her armor was still torn, her voice hoarse.
"Would you stare if you saw us?" Korr grumbled. "We look like corpses dragged upright."
"That's generous," Aurelle said, his tone flat. But Gray felt as if he caught the faintest curve of his lips.
Before they could say more, a guard stepped forward from the edge of the square. He carried a spear tipped with steel, and across his breastplate gleamed the image of a griffin, wings spread wide. His presence was different, heavily Strained, controlled power leaking from him like heat from a forge.
"Follow," the guard said simply.
The crowd parted as the six of them were led through the streets. People stepped back, giving them space. Gray's boots scuffed across cobblestone, and for once, the sound wasn't muffled by snow.
Renn's head turned constantly, his wonder uncontained. "Look at that—actual fruit stalls. And is that...gods above, meat pies? They've got meat pies just sitting out in the open."
Adel managed a dry laugh. "You'd think you were starving."
"I am starving!" Renn said, hands thrown up, his voice cracking high enough to make a few passersby laugh. Confirming their thoughts. They spoke the same language.
Korr sighed deeply and shook his head, muttering, "Hopeless."
Gray wasn't laughing. His eyes snagged on a shop with a heavy wooden sign shaped like a hammer. Sparks flickered inside, the rhythm of steel against steel ringing faintly. 'A blacksmith. But why?' He thought back to Aurelia and it's endless factories where machines stamped blades by the hundred. At one point, Aurelia was called a factory as a whole. Due to the sheer amount of factories and forges littered like graves across it's skin. He couldn't help but wonder why would anyone here shape metal by hand.
A little farther, a building with glass jars stacked in its windows caught his attention. Liquids of every color swirled inside, glowing faintly. A plaque above read Alchemist.
"What is that?" Gray asked quietly.
Aurelle, walking just ahead, didn't turn. "Alchemists bind Vyre into matter. Elixirs. Powders. Things regular factories can't replicate."
Gray frowned, remembering the rite the Kaan had given him. Could it have been a form of alchemy? But the thought that there were arts of Vyre beyond fighting unsettled him, while also intriguing him.
Their path wound deeper until a large structure came into view. Compared to the castle spires he had glimpsed from afar, it was modest. Still, its tall windows and carved stone gave it a stately air. It looked like a house for someone important, or many important people.
The guard strode ahead, mounted the steps, and pushed open heavy doors. The six of them followed.
The reception hall beyond was bare, except for a desk at the far end. Behind it sat a woman, her posture straight, her hair dark and braided to one side. She wore no armor, only a simple robe, but her eyes were sharp, green as glass.
The guard leaned in, muttered something Gray couldn't catch, then left through a side door without a backward glance.
Gray turned to watch him go, when the woman's voice carried across the room.
"Welcome to the City of Dawn."
They froze, the words sinking in like a stone breaking water.
"You will remain here for now," she continued evenly. "Weapons and belongings must be stored for your safety."
Her finger pointed to a dusty wooden box at the wall.
Adel let out a long breath. "Of course. First thing, take away the toys."
Renn frowned. "Is it safe? To just hand everything over?"
Lira didn't speak. She stepped forward first, unclipped her broken sword, and laid it gently into the box. One by one, the others followed, wristbands, knives, even Gray's katana, its edge blunt from too many battles. Each clang against the wood echoed heavier than the last.
Gray hesitated a second longer than the rest, before finally letting go. His hand felt unbearably empty.
The woman inclined her head. "Those with injuries, go to the nurse's room, through the left corridor. Upstairs you will find rooms prepared for you. Fresh clothes. Baths."
Gray's eyes caught a staircase that led not up, but down into shadow. He said nothing, but the sight dug into his thoughts.
"If there is nothing else," the woman said, "I'll take my leave." She walked briskly through another door, closing it with a decisive click.
The six of them were left staring at each other.
Renn broke the silence. "She could've at least told us where the food is."
Adel barked out a hoarse laugh, "Renn, you my friend are quite funny. Have you thought of being a comedian before? I can see it Suiting you well."
Renn gave her an odd look and scratched his head.
"No...i haven't, but maybe that's where my talents lie..." He cast his gaze at the ceiling as if in deep thought.
Gray and Korr traded glances. Struggling to keep their laughter and then, limping, headed toward the nurse's room.
The corridor smelled faintly of herbs. Gray knocked softly on the door. It opened to reveal a woman with long blonde hair that shimmered faintly under the light. Her eyes—gentle, calm, landed on him.
"Sit." She pointed to a chair.
Gray lowered himself slowly, wincing as the movement pulled at his leg. The nurse studied his hand, her brows knitting slightly.
"You've carried this wound too long."
Her gloved hand hovered over his frozen flesh. A warmth bloomed instantly, seeping deep. Gray watched, wide-eyed, as the frost retreated, leaving only faint lines like scars. Then she moved to his leg.
It had been mending on its own, he had noticed earlier that he could bear more weight, but under her touch, the ache vanished, bones knitting with perfect certainty.
Gray drew a sharp breath. The relief felt almost foreign.
The nurse met his eyes briefly. For a moment, Gray felt… seen. He forced his gaze down.
"There," she said softly. "Anything else?"
Gray shook his head. "No. Thank you."
When he stepped out, Korr was waiting. The big man grinned and raised a thumb.
Gray scowled, shaking his head, and pushed past.
Upstairs, the stairs creaked under their weight. Gray picked the last door at the end of the hall and twisted the handle.
The room inside was simple but warm. A bed, neatly made. A wooden desk by the wall, empty save for a lamp. A small balcony with shutters half-open, letting in the hum of the city.
He struggled to hide his joy, a smile breaking through.
Just over two months ago, he had been suffocating in Ironhold. And now, he had his own room. It truly felt like a fairytale, taken straight out of his mind.
He quickly grabbed the fresh clothes carried them into the bathroom. Peeling off his shirt, he froze.
The mark on his chest had spread. Dark, webbed lines crawled faintly under his skin. His stomach knotted.
'Is it getting worse?' He had kept it hidden from the nurse for pretty obvious reasons. He still couldn't trust anyone he saw. Or at least that's what he felt like.
He swallowed, dragging his shirt the rest of the way off. No answers would come now. With a hiss of breath, he stepped into the shower.
Water poured over him, hot and relentless, soaking his skin. The dirt, sweat, and blood of Glacierfang washed away in streams. His muscles loosened under the heat, the tension in his body slowly uncoiling. It was the first true shower he had taken in what felt like forever. He closed his eyes and simply let himself breathe.
When he finally emerged, wrapped in the simple gray clothes, he walked to the balcony.
From here, he could see more of the city. And beyond the bustling outer ring, walls rose again, higher, thicker, dividing the city into layers.
Gray's chest tightened. "Another wall," he muttered to himself.
Even here, there were boundaries. He could only imagine what was beyond that one.
He exhaled, heavy, and turned back to the bed. The mattress was soft enough to swallow him whole. Having not had a full sleep since he had been in the village, the moment he lay down the exhaustion claimed him, dragging him into sleep before he could resist.