As soon as I settled into my seat, the carriage lurched forward, carrying me through the winding streets of Amor. My heart wouldn't settle, so I pressed my forehead against the cool window bars, hoping the city outside might distract me. I started to see what Janus meant about the capital. There were people everywhere, a living river of faces and colors. Not quite as filthy as he made it sound, but still overwhelming in its own way.
The people of Amor moved in a swirl of color, their clothes bright and strange to my eyes. Merchants strutted by in floppy hats weighed down with feathers, while guards gleamed in polished armor and wore striped pants with sleeves so puffy they almost looked comical, like something out of a storybook. Farmers, faces lined with exhaustion but still carrying a quiet joy, brought their harvests to market. Children darted between carts, chasing after a lopsided ball, their laughter echoing off the stones. The city was a tapestry of every shade of skin and hair, some so unfamiliar I found myself staring. I caught sight of blue-haired traders with delicate scales around their eyes, almost like Merefolk, but not quite; maybe they were half Merfolk? And then, my first real Dwarf: his beard was a masterpiece, braided so long I worried he might trip over it. He was built like a wall, with hands and feet massive compared to mine, reminding me of Titus despite the huge size difference, and wore thick goggles that hid his eyes completely. But despite the diverse crowd, my eyes failed to even catch the slightest hint of either a Halfling or a Gnome.
The streets here were wider than I expected, almost too wide for a city this old, as if the city itself was trying to breathe after being buried for centuries. Water trickled through shallow gutters, barely keeping up with the life above. Amor was built on the bones of the old Lunar Kingdom, or so Otto told me. He spoke of towers that once scraped the sky, cloud chasers, he called them. Now, only their black stone foundations remained, glistening like spilled oil in the sunlight. New houses perched on top, pale limestone against the darkness, some with simple wooden shingles, while the roofs of rich merchants were clad in slate that caught the light, making them look almost regal.
At first, the patchwork of old and new felt strange, almost jarring. But then I realized every house, every door and window, clung to the remnants of the past set into ancient holes or perched above the black stone. Most homes could only be reached by climbing steep staircases, some winding up for what felt like forever.
No matter how hard I searched, there were no true towers left. The tallest building barely reached ten stories, and even that was cheated by standing on the shoulders of five stories of ancient black stone. The city’s old glory was just a memory, hidden beneath layers of new life.
As the carriage climbed higher, the city unfolded beneath me, layer by layer. Wide streets cut through blocks of black stone, houses clinging to the old bones of the city. Far off, the strange patchwork of ruins and new life stretched all the way to the horizon. Some blocks were empty, others swallowed by wild fields or groves of trees, nature quietly reclaiming what was left behind.
I lost track of where we were headed, lulled by the rhythm of the wheels, until a sudden shadow swept over the carriage and the city beyond. The vibrant city I had just been admiring vanished beneath a veil of darkness. At first, I thought it was a passing cloud, but the darkness lingered, heavy and unmoving. The air shifted, thick with anticipation. The lively sounds and colors faded, replaced by a hush I could feel in my bones. I tore my gaze from the window, bracing myself, and drew in a shaky breath.
I wasn't that helpless girl anymore, the one who could be tossed onto a horse and carted off like a sack of potatoes. The mana string was just one of the tricks I'd learned these past months. Even as a healer, I still felt breakable, so I made myself a kind of armor, mana strings woven tight, hugging me like a second skin. It wouldn't stop a hammer blow, but it kept knives and sharp things at bay. And if I saw the danger coming, I could tense the threads to dissipate the blow. The catch was that it took ages to set up, and I couldn't wear it all the time, even if I wanted to. Janus hated the way it felt against his “skin”, and the blue shimmer made me look ghostly, almost sick. Most days, I just wore it under my clothes, covering only what needed protecting. The rest of the armor was always prepared so I could put it on within a moment's notice, making me feel like some kind of childish superhero.
Just as my nerves finally started to settle, the carriage jerked to a stop. Until now, the crowds had parted for us, but this time, we had arrived. The door swung open, and there were Elio's cold eyes behind his helmet, watching me. His voice sounded stiff when he spoke,
“We have arrived.”
I stepped out without a word, and there it was, the thing casting that endless shadow. The church’s headquarters, the only survivor of the cataclysm, loomed before me. It was a cathedral, round and impossibly tall, its black stone walls catching the sunlight in a way that made them almost glow. But sadly, from where I stood, it was just a dark, heavy circle blotting out the sky, the sun burning around its edges. Even in my old life, I’d never seen anything so huge. It didn’t feel like a building at all, more like standing in the path of an eclipse.
I must have looked ridiculous, staring up with my mouth open, but I couldn’t help it. The Solar knights shifted restlessly around me until Elios cleared his throat, snapping me back to reality. I tried to act casual and started walking, the knights trailing close behind.
As we walked, I realized the crowd had shifted. The plaza was packed with pilgrims from every corner of the world, but most of them looked sick or wounded, some barely able to stand. With every step, more faces turned to watch us, eyes full of hope or desperation.
It was eerily quiet here, no laughter, no shouts, just a heavy silence. It felt like the cathedral didn’t just steal the sunlight and color with its shadow, but swallowed up every sound, too.
We neared the entrance, a massive white gate, shut tight, with only a pair of smaller doors open for us. The crowd melted away, heads bowed, some clutching necklaces, others whispering prayers. Even here, the Grand Master of the Solar knights was a rare enough sight to draw this kind of reverence.
In front of the smaller set of doors stood two monks with cold eyes, armed with maces, guarding the entrance and processing the sick and injured who sought help and refuge, from the hopeless cripples for whom nothing could be done.
Part of me ached to help them all right then and there, but I had to hold back. The church fiercely guarded its monopoly on healing mages. Even if they didn’t know what I really was, someone like me, an outsider, a healer not under their thumb, would be seen as a threat.
The two monks, who had looked so stern before, suddenly lit up when they saw us. They cleared a path, swinging their maces intimidatingly with practiced ease to move the crowd aside.
I was just about to step inside when something felt off. The Solar knights, who had been glued to my side like nervous ducklings, suddenly hung back, all of them tense and watchful.
But nothing happened when I crossed the threshold. The knights hesitated outside, looking confused, or at least, I think they did. It’s hard to read anyone through all that armor. After a moment, they shuffled in behind me, with the rattling of their armor, melting the tension away.
Was something supposed to happen when I walked in? I had no idea. All I knew was that I was left standing there, completely stunned all over again.
The inside was just as, if not more, impressive than the outside. Everywhere I looked, masterfully painted frescoes and reliefs drew my eye. True to the Amentis faith, the cathedral's interiors were color-coded: on one side, bright, warm colors; on the other, dark, cool colors. Facing ahead, I saw another gate made of ebony, and the ceiling split between a perfect night sky filled with stars and a sunny day, interrupted only by scattered clouds and birds, breaking the tranquil light blue. Both are framed with fantastical creatures like griffons, unicorns, and fairies on their seams.
The windows glowed with red and blue stained glass, each one showing either a young woman full of joy or a solemn, stoic man, both of them faceless, as if their stories were meant to be anyone’s.
Rows of worn wooden benches faced the center, where two podiums twisted around each other like entwined snakes. Both were carved from a single block of stone, one white marble streaked with black like tangled roots, the other onyx veined with white.
Even the Solar knights paused, caught by the beauty of it all, before they managed to tear their eyes away from the familiar sight. We slipped quietly into one of the cathedral’s side towers, through a door half-hidden in the drifting shadows.