The sun broke over the horizon like a cracked egg, spilling gold across the plains of Aethelgard. And there, rising from the morning mist like a mountain carved by the hands of giants, stood the Capital.
Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, his breath hitching in his throat.
"By the mercy of the gods," Leo whispered, his usual quippy demeanor replaced by pure awe.
The city was a fortress of white stone and iron, circled by three concentric walls that seemed to have been grown from the earth rather than built. Banners of royal blue and silver snapped in the wind from a thousand towers, emblazoned with the crest of the High Queen—a falcon clutching a rose. But it wasn't just the size; it was the resonance. Even from miles away, the city emitted a low, throbbing vibration—a frequency of power that made the strange energy beneath Arthur's skin buzz in sympathy.
"It looks... indestructible," Maya said, adjusting her pack. Her face was pale from their night trek through the Whispering Woods, but her eyes shone with excitement.
"It's beautiful," Arthur corrected. The hum in his blood, the vibration that had plagued him in Oakhaven, settled into a steady, warm thrum. He felt like a compass needle finally finding North. "Come on. The gates are opening."
The queue to enter the city was a river of humanity. Farmers with carts of pumpkins, merchants in silks from the east, and mercenaries with scarred armor jostled for position. Arthur, Leo, and Maya pulled their cloaks tight, trying to look less like runaways and more like tired farmhands sent on an errand.
They passed beneath the main archway—a structure so massive that twenty horses could ride abreast through it—and stepped into a different world.
The noise hit them first. The clang of hammers, the shouting of hawkers, the rattle of wheels on cobblestones—it was a chaotic symphony. The air smelled of roasting meat, exotic spices, horse manure, and hot metal.
"Look at that!" Leo pointed to a stall where a man with blue skin was juggling fire without touching it. "Is that a mage from Mirage?"
"And there," Maya grabbed Arthur's arm, pointing to a shop window displaying clockwork birds that fluttered their brass wings. "Techno-magical toys. Probably imported from the borders of Synthetica."
Arthur spun in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. Oakhaven felt like a muddy puddle compared to this ocean. He saw knights in shining plate armor patrolling in pairs, their capes flowing behind them. He saw statues of ancient heroes looming over the plazas—King Alaric the Unifier holding a scepter, and General Benedict the Brave wielding a massive great sword. Arthur's gaze lingered on Benedict's stone face. For a fleeting second, the hum in his blood spiked, a strange pang of grief tightening his chest for a man he had never met.
"We made it," Arthur laughed, a sound of pure relief. "We actually made it."
They spent the morning exploring like starving men at a banquet. They bought sweet buns filled with apple paste from a baker who claimed to have served the Queen herself. They watched a mock duel in the Hero's Plaza, cheering as a squire disarmed his master with a clever trip. They wandered through the Grand Market, marveling at silks that changed color in the light and swords that looked sharp enough to cut the wind.
For a few hours, they were just teenagers, drunk on freedom.
It was high noon when the mood shifted. They were resting near a fountain carved in the shape of a weeping dragon, finishing the last of their dried meat, when the bells of the inner keep began to toll.
A squad of City Watchmen marched into the plaza. These weren't the lazy village guards Arthur was used to. These men wore hardened leather and chainmail, and they moved with military precision. They were stopping people, asking questions, checking faces against a piece of parchment.
"Arthur," Maya whispered, her voice tight. "Look."
Arthur followed her gaze. A town crier was pasting a fresh notice onto a wooden board near the fountain. Even from this distance, Arthur recognized the crude charcoal sketches.
Three faces. Two boys, one girl.
Runaways from Oakhaven. Reward for safe return.
"The Elders," Leo hissed, ducking his head. "They sent a runner. How did they get word here so fast?"
"They must have used a messenger hawk," Maya said, panic rising in her chest. "We have to go. Now."
They stood up, trying to move casually toward the alleyway, but they stood out. three teenagers with dusty farm clothes and guilty eyes in a plaza full of city folk.
"You there!"
The shout cut through the crowd like a whip.
Arthur froze. A guard, a burly man with a scar running through his beard, was pointing a gauntleted finger right at them.
"Halt!"
"Run!" Arthur yelled.
They bolted.
Chaos erupted in the plaza. Arthur shoved past a merchant, sending a display of glass potion vials crashing to the ground, releasing a cloud of pungent purple smoke. Leo vaulted over a bench, laughing maniacally despite the danger. Maya was right behind them, her cloak flapping like wings.
"Stop them!" the guard roared.
They darted into the labyrinth of narrow streets behind the market. It was a maze of hanging laundry and crates. Arthur led the way, his instincts taking over. Left, right, over a crate, under a low beam. The hum in his blood spiked, sharpening his senses. He could hear the heavy boots of the guards closing in from two sides.
"This way!" Arthur shouted, spotting a narrow gap between two bakeries.
He squeezed through, popping out into a wider street. He turned to help Maya—
But the gap was blocked.
A second squad of guards had cut them off from the other side. Leo and Maya skidded to a halt, trapped between the pursuers and the wall.
"Arthur, go!" Leo screamed, shoving Maya behind him as the guards closed in.
"No!" Arthur lunged forward, grabbing his axe handle, but he stopped.
There were six guards. Leo and Maya were unarmed. If Arthur fought, someone would get hurt. Maybe killed. The guards weren't enemies; they were just doing their job.
"Don't be stupid, farmboy!" the scarred guard growled, grabbing Leo by the collar. Another guard seized Maya's arm. "We're taking you home."
Arthur met Leo eyes. His friend didn't cry; instead, he flashed a terrified but cocky grin and winked. Get out of here, idiot.
Arthur hesitated, his heart tearing in two. But then he saw more guards turning the corner, spotting him. If he stayed, they would all go back to the turnips and the mud. The dream would die.
"I'll come back for you," Arthur whispered, a vow to the wind.
He turned and ran.
He didn't look back as Leo and Maya were marched away. He ran until his lungs burned, until the shouts faded, until he was lost in the twisting, shadowed underbelly of the capital.
Alone in the labyrinth of stone, Arthur sank against a cold alley wall and slid to the ground. The sun was setting now, turning the once-bright white walls to a bruised purple. The hum of the city was still there, but without Leo's laughter or Maya's voice, it just felt like noise. He was free. But for the first time in his life, he was truly, terrifyingly alone.