The sand crunched under my boots as I approached the looming gates of the city.
They towered before me, black shadows against the dying crimson of the desert sky.
Torches had been lit in sconces along the walls, their flames dancing daintily in the evening breeze.
Carved into the stone arch overhead were words in a script I didn't recognize, though I suspected they spoke of a name to this grand city.
While I could speak and understand the language of these people which I think must've been a gift of the world at the mana surge, I couldn't read it.
The guards at the gates wore armor that gleamed faintly in the torchlight, but not the kind of dull bronze or steel I was used to seeing. Their cuirasses shimmered darker, like images polished into the metal.
I had expected something flashy, something gilded, yet the understated splendor of their armor drew my eyes more than any gold could have.
