Chapter 183. Argyron

The city of Argyron was beyond magnificent—beyond what words could describe. Its spiral buildings reached for the skies, reflecting its blue like their towers were made of crystal or polished metal, not bricks. The city’s silver sheen was blinding under the sunlight, forcing foreigners like ourselves to wear protection the elves called sunglasses—dark, connected pieces of glass we put over our eyes. The elves didn’t use it themselves, having adapted to the shimmer of their city, but we had to—or we’d risk blindness.

Their buildings reached heights beyond what I’d ever seen. They were of strange, ethereal designs, looking like grass blades sprouting from the earth and flower buds unfolding. Everything about this city was a shade of grey: the clothes, carriages, and even the horses. The only thing that seemed normal was the color of hair.

“Wow, I’ve seen houses of more than a story before, but never anything this tall,” Moriah said as she stared up the shaft of a building.