Chapter 6. Walls of White Stone

The carriage’s wheels drummed insistently on the rough-hewn stones of the causeway as it climbed steadily upward, each revolution echoing against the chill night air until it sounded like a heartbeat—steady, unwavering, impossible to ignore. Pressing a slender hand against the coarse linen of the curtained window, Lora drew it aside just far enough for a glimpse of what lay ahead, her breath catching as the city of Elysor emerged like a dream made of light.

Before her stretched a fortress born of dawn’s purest essence, its walls blindingly white and built in concentric tiers that rose one atop the other, vanishing at last into the ink-black sky. Here and there, broad marble terraces caught the silver glow of Elysor’s twin moons, their smooth surfaces etched with runes that flickered in the moonlight as though alive.

Gigantic gates yawned open, their archways carved with radiant sunbursts and rimmed with spear-like blades of polished steel that glittered like stars. Along