A long caravan coming from Atuvia just climbed up to the top of a gentle hill, revealing Avalon's walls not that far from their position, its gleaming towers catching the late afternoon sun. The city’s walls were taller than what people within the group were used to, even with the massive mountains as its backdrop. For a brief mont, the sheer scale and visibly predetermined, designed beauty of the city stole Lyria Tanneth’s breath—a lapse she quickly corrected by glancing downward, feigning indifference. She tightened her grip on the edges of the cart she rode in, careful not to let her admiration betray her. Not because she was a newly up-and-coming businesswoman... No.
To the others in the caravan, she was simply Eira Shastan, a rchant’s apprentice from Atuvia's eastern region. She was a bright gem who managed to outgrow and overthrow her teachers and establish a na for herself. In the end, she straight bought up her retainers, overtaking their caravan business, moving away from the turbulent regions towards the west, and settling under the Quickfeet Guild's territory. Then, as the opportunity arose to travel to Avalon, she was eager to visit the suddenly legendary city of inventions and deliver goods. Of course, this has been her goal all along.
She had spent months perfecting her Atuvian accent, learning their habits and history, and forging her background through brainwashing spells, heavy bribes, and, of course, murdering those who would pose a danger of revealing her true identity. The elaborate backstory Lord Barth provided to her included everything for her to succeed—and she did manage to do so in a short few months only. It was a good idea to 'originate' from Atuvia's eastern part, making it a bit harder for Quickfeet and Goldlight to do proper background checks as they were already isolated to other parts of Atuvia. It was the main reason for her cover and designed to draw as little attention as possible, acting as a relative newcor yet clearly gifted rchant who wished to escape the turmoil within the League.
Her pulse quickened as she scanned the city’s skyline and layout one more ti. This was no ordinary settlent, and it looked just as proper as the Capital of Ishillia. This city of stone bristled with activity and confidence, its structures exuding the blend of practical function and artistic grandeur that made her stomach turn. It was as if they were openly defying Ishillia. Well... They were.
As the caravan began moving again, she tried to look for clues of magic, formations masqueraded as crests or banners, anything she had been trained to recognize, but she couldn't see any. She almost let it show on her face, cursing Avalon because she was forbidden to bring along any magical instrunts or artifacts capable of detecting the presence of magic. Barth had drilled into her the dangers of Avalon's unknown thods that allowed them to trace and find it, sothing that caused Lord Otto's failure.
"Still impressed by your first visit, eh, Eira?" the caravan master, Gorran, teased as he urged his horses forward. His Atuvian dialect was rough but clear.
"It’s a lot bigger than I imagined," Lyria replied, keeping her tone light. "I thought it’d be more... rustic. You know, for a frontier town."
Her comnt drew chuckles from the others in the caravan, though one of the younger guards added.
"Rustic? You're looking at the pride of the Ishillian Frontier! Avalon’s no backwater city. If it wasn't clear from the fact we passed by their train, then seeing the city for yourself should be the final proof you need!"
Lyria smiled shyly, as expected, but inwardly, she cataloged every detail of the road, the border crossings, the train tracks they passed, and the majestic tal machine occupying it. She noticed that the workers who were still hamring and helping Atuvia finish their so-called railways were slave labor, evident from the guards standing around them at all tis.
"At least, they are not that different." She thought, making a ntal note of the fact, wondering if the train would be available when it was ti to head back to Atuvia. She wanted a ride on it to be able to make an even better report.
To not betray her thoughts, she began morizing the surrounding terrain. Then she observed the traffic heading in and out of the city, the clean roads that were well-maintained, with enough space for double-lane travel; more than that, they were flanked by drainage channels and small barriers—practical and efficient. It wasn't that surprising, though, as they passed a river that was not on any of the maps she knew of... and through a massive, completely tal bridge.
It was hard to accept that they managed to make a river, but she had to. Maybe it was the result of the harsh winter, but... whatever it was, now it was there, flowing and causing her report to beco grimr with every passing day. If Lord Barth and the Eternal Emperor ordered an invasion, crossing into Avalon could be a big issue as they could be halted and herded into choke points very easily, thanks to the sudden changes.
While thinking about it, she noticed that along the path were, possibly, Avalonian soldiers in pairs, patrolling with asured purpose. They carried no banners or decorated armor, but they wore matching black-and-gold uniforms, sleek and looking like a noble's formal suit. Their weapons looked ordinary, made out of tal. They weren't wearing the nacing armors she had seen, and their fras were also smaller... they were younger, too. Which, in turn, told her that these were most likely trainees. Tasked with patrolling duties.
“Soldiers within ten minutes of running ti,” she still noted to herself. “Uniform spacing. Disciplined but relaxed—at ease, not tense. No signs of recent incidents, minor or major.”
As they arrived at the city gates, the atmosphere shifted a little. The walls of Avalon lood over her, their surface intricately decorated, carved with motifs of roaring lions and flowing rivers—artistry so seamless it could have been mistaken for natural stonework. To decorate a wall like this was unheard of... And a complete waste. The gate itself was massive, made to look like it was a giant lion's head, and its mouth was its entrance. Above it, large chanisms suggested the gate could be raised or lowered with terrifying speed, although she couldn't calculate how fast it would happen.
Looking at the decorations, she began thinking... it was clearly added later, and she noticed the subtle clues confirming it. Were they hiding additional secrets? Things that were added later?
“Magic?” she wondered, "Has to be... Also, the decorations. They must hide different spells to protect the city. I am sure of it."
"Have your papers ready," Gorran called to the caravan from the front, being a long-ti mber of the Quickfeet Guild and this particular group's leader.
Lyria joined the others in producing a small bundle of docunts—fake ones that Barth’s other agents had crafted ticulously. A brisk Avalonian officer approached; his young face looked proud, his gaze sharp beneath the brim of a strange-looking hat—sothing the others had called a 'cap' before. He held a clipboard in hand, taking away their identifications, which were mandatory and had already been inspected at the borders. Still, this young soldier took it away once again, rechecking the stamps they first got, adding a second one as he asked them questions.
"Reason for your visit?" He asked, mainly Gorran, his voice crisp and to the point.
“Delivery and trade,” The caravan leader replied, handing over his manifest. “We’ve brought oil, a bit of raw ore, and so spices from beyond Atuvia's borders.” As he spoke, the officer scanned the docunts, his eyes darting across the text, reading faster than anybody Lyria knew. Was he even reading it?
"And you?" he asked, looking at her as if noticing her questioning gaze.
“I’m Gorran’s new partner,” she said quickly, lowering her eyes. I an, business partner!" She blushed while the people chuckled around her. "This is my first trip to Avalon...”
Still... The officer studied her for a beat longer than necessary. Lyria felt her stomach tighten, fearing her acting had failed, but she was forced to keep her breathing steady. She was certain her false identity would hold, but Avalonians were perceptive. They did kill Lord Otto... The intensity of his stare felt like it was peeling back her skin, searching for lies. Finally, the officer nodded, handing back their docunts.
"Everything seems in order. Proceed."
As their group began to move, heading into Avalon, Lyria allowed herself a silent exhale. One obstacle cleared. She was in.
...
....
......
The first thing that struck her about Avalon was the cacophony of various sounds.
Unlike other cities she had visited, there was a different kind of bluster of street hawkers or clanging blacksmiths. Instead of it being a chaotic ss, trying to muscle others out of business, here there was a strange harmony—a hum of life, balance, and... working together. What she also quickly noticed were the tall poles that lined the streets, crowned with bright lamps at their top. Yet... she didn't see torches or anything in them, so she couldn't decide how they worked, already noting to herself to inspect one at night.
As they continued, the streets were unnervingly clean. Where is the sll? There are horses here... Why do the roads look clean? The pavent was smooth enough to skate across, and it stretched wide enough to allow the passage of multiple carts side by side, even in the city. It just... didn't make sense.
Then, above her, she also noticed that wires stretched between so of the buildings, faintly humming with energy. It couldn't be magic; she had no talent for feeling it, so... it had to be sothing different. Another note landed in her ntal book, urging her to discover what it was and why it was there.
As they passed through the bustling market district, Lyria marveled at the sheer variety of goods on display—things she didn’t recognize and others that seed out of place for a city supposedly at the edge of civilization. What she knew of were the clockwork devices, glass tubes filled with swirling colors, and books printed in crisp, uniform fonts. So even had colorful pictures on their covers! Worse, she also realized, most of the buyers were clearly other Atuvians and not the locals...
“What is this place?” she thought, her composure montarily shaken. Lord Barth’s warnings rang in her ears: "Do not underestimate them. Avalon is no re upstart settlent. Look at them as I do... A danger to Ishillia. A bigger danger than the Geth Empire."
By evening, Lyria had settled into her rented quarters above a modest inn in the district, closest to the main market square. The room was sparsely furnished but clean, with a bed, a small desk, and a lamp that needed no candle. She studied it for a mont, noting that she just had to put so stones in, pour water into one of its compartnts, turn a handle, and... there was light. She wanted to take it away... but she held herself back, walking to her window, looking out onto the city.
The view provided a perfect vantage of the city’s central square, dominated by a colossal bathhouse further back that looked more like a palace. Its columns and mosaics glowed softly under the lamplight filling the city, and streams of steam rose from its vents, curling into the cool night air.
“Opulence and function,” she noted. “Every building serves a purpose, but they take pride in their presentation.”
Sitting down, her eyes closed, recalling everything she had morized, she began sketching a rough map of the city in her journal, marking key landmarks, patrol routes, and possible escape paths. Her earlier exploration revealed more about Avalon's defenses, and she had to mark them as her drawing would be sent back to Lord Barth. Watchtowers were only on the city's walls, and they were manned by actual, armored guards at regular intervals, hidden from head to toe. Maybe they were not even humans... Then, there were no visible siege weapons, but she felt that those decorations covering the surface of the wall hinted at sothing hidden—as for what? She didn't know.
The people, too, intrigued her. Avalonians walked with a sense of purpose and unmatched drive, their confidence palpable. Unlike other cities where every caste was living in their own little quarter, Avalon radiated an unsettling unity. She had even spotted workers heading ho from a workshop, their faces tired but content, talking with people who were better dressed, going in for a drink as if they were on the sa level. It was a stark contrast to how it should be. This was... maddening.
“Yet... This place works,” she realized with a pang of unease. “And that makes it extrely dangerous.”
Her next move was clear. She needed to establish a foothold—find soone who could provide her with access to Avalon’s inner workings. Perhaps one of the city’s officials, a soldier, or even a local rchant with connections. Barth’s instructions had been explicit: "Use any ans necessary."
Thinking about it, Lyria changed into a simple dress, letting her hair fall in loose waves to soften her appearance. The inn’s common room was lively, filled with workers and vendors relaxing after a good day's work. She scanned the room as she walked down, her eyes lingering on a young man in the similar officer’s uniform the guard at the gates wore. He was seated with a few comrades, laughing and sipping from a mug of what looked like ale.
Perfect. She approached slowly, her steps already calculated to seem casual for anyone watching her swaying hips. When she reached his table, she let her accent slip slightly as she leaned a bit forward, showing her cleavage that although it wasn't that deep, it was still inviting.
“Excuse ,” she said, feigning uncertainty. “I’m new to Avalon and was wondering if you might recomnd a good place to dine?”
The officer looked up from her cleavage, blushing a little. His gaze briefly flicked down one last ti before he smiled warmly.
“You’re in the right place, miss! They serve the best stew in the district here, only five minutes from here! I think they are open until midnight.”
Hearing him speak and watching her body, she allowed herself a shy smile, grateful he had taken the bait and pushed it a bit further.
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to try it. If I am not too imposing... I would also love it if you could show where it is~ I would be happy to invite you all, too, of course! As a thanks, from ~!”
As the evening wore on, Lyria engaged the officer and his comrades in small talk, carefully weaving a narrative of an innocent rchant eager to learn about Avalon. By the end of the night, she had a na, a potential contact, and—most importantly—a subtle invitation to et again.
It was nothing concrete yet, but she had ti. She would slowly peel back the layers, revealing the truth about this... Avalon.
Reviews
All reviews (0)