Page 41 of The Awakening of Essensia

It was more than she could have ever hoped, and lonelier than she’d feared.

The great iron gates groaned open, and then, Vaelira was in Caerthalyn.

The noise hit her first. A cacophony of shouting vendors, barking dogs, and the constant thrum of foot traffic. The wall rose at their backs, casting a deep, oppressive shadow ahead. The road was barely visible beneath the crush of bodies. The scent of sweat and smoke tangled thick in her throat. She shifted in the saddle, one hand tightening on the reins as a boy darted past, nearly brushing her leg.

To her side, Eli had drawn his cloak over the lower half of his face. She caught his eye briefly, and he gave a small nod, as if to say yes, it’s always like this.

Ahead, Jurah pushed forward with steady determination, forcing his white stallion through. More than once hooves clipped too close to heels, drawing angry mutters that died the moment they caught sight of the Royal Crest.

She glanced at the crowd. Some people slowed to stare at the horses, at the men, but their gazes dropped fast. Heads turned, feet quickened, and no one met their gaze. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been fear.

“New Town,” Eli muttered behind the fabric. “The barracks are further in.”

He tipped his chin towards the next wall rising in the distance. It wasn’t as tall as the first, but it was just as impressive. The moment Jurah pulled back his hood, the guards flanking the entrance stiffened and swung the gates open, bowing low to their Commander.

As they passed through, the din faded. The gate closed with a solid thud, and the air changed. It was calmer here, the torches lining the street throwing gold across the cobblestones. There were fewer people, but Vaelira’s pulse hadn’t slowed, the roar of New Town still echoing in her ears. Another wall stood to the north, the palace towers striking the sky at its back like giant spears.

They dismounted, and three guards stepped forward. Millie shifted, and Vaelira kept hold of the mare. “Where are you taking her?”

“The barracks stables, Miss,” he said, glancing at Jurah.

Jurah gave a single nod before turning to Vaelira. “She’ll be well cared for. You can visit her before breakfast if you wish.”

Vaelira looked from the young man to Eli, who was already moving ahead, his hood drawn tight against the chill mountain air. Giving her trusted companion a reassuring stroke, she watched as Millie was led away, then hurried to catch up with the others.

They turned left onto a broad street lined with shops unlike any she’d seen before. Storefronts were built into the tall stone buildings, with glass paned windows and neat little mats before each door. Hand painted signs swung above each entry.

Miss Selma’s Silks, Eretria Jewellery, Needles & Notions, Madame Noctra’s…

The shops seemed to go on forever, some dark and shuttered, but most still open, lamplight glowing invitingly from within.

They turned right onto a narrow street, leaving the shops behind. Night had settled now, cloaking the few shadowed doorways they passed. The gloom deepened until a pair of torches came into view, revealing a black iron gate rising from the cobblestones. Two guards stood on the other side, and one lifted his torch higher, its light catching their faces. As before, the guards snapped to attention.

“Welcome back, Lord Commander,” one of them said, while the other unlocked the gate.

The trio passed through and continued down the narrow street. There were no doorways either side now, only pale, unbroken stone. At the end of the street rose a tall building, its upper floors bridging the path with a broad archway. They passed beneath it into a wide, low tunnel, the scuff of their boots soft against the worn stone. Beyond, another arch opened into a courtyard.

A single tree stood in the centre, its bare branches reaching skyward like outstretched fingers. Pale bark gleamed faintly in the torchlight, dark fissures running along its trunk, a wide wooden bench circling its base. On the opposite side of the courtyard, several archways opened into a long hall, and above them shadows moved across the warm light that spilled down from the upper windows. On the right, heavy wooden doors stood shut beneath a large clock. To the left, a single storey building stretched the length of the courtyard. Torches blazed on the surrounding walls, casting dancing shadows across the large paned windows.

“Welcome to the barracks,” Jurah said, pride softening the lines of his face. Eli stood beside her like a ghost, hands loose at his sides.

The sound of fast footsteps echoed and a tall guard with cropped blonde hair appeared beneath the far-left arch, a sword strapped at her hip. She started across the courtyard but stopped short when she spotted them, standing at attention. Something gold glinted at her neck where her cape was fastened. A Royal Crest.

“Lord Commander,” she said respectfully, but unable to hide the tinge of surprise.

“At ease,” Jurah replied.

The woman nodded and continued walking, glancing sidelong at Vaelira when she passed. Once she disappeared through the arch behind them, Jurah gestured to the large double doors on their right.

“Training rooms,” he said, then pointed to the left. “Refectory.” He motioned ahead to the lit windows above. “Dormitories.” Turning, he nodded towards the building behind them, to the left of the archway they’d come through. “Report to my office tomorrow morning for orientation.”

A lump rose in Vaelira’s throat. This was it. This would be her home for the foreseeable future.

Home. Among strangers, in a city so large it made her feel entirely insignificant. The image of Freya’s wild grin flashed in her mind. There was no going back now.

They crossed under the archways, finding another long hall branching off from the one that ran parallel with the courtyard. At the far end, a gilded gate sealed the opening beyond.

“What’s down there?” Vaelira asked.