Athax rose from the horizon in layered stone and gold, its towers catching the late afternoon light in sharp, gleaming edges that marked the heart of the South long before its gates came fully into view.
The city had been prepared for their return.
Banners lined the outer roads, crimson and black interwoven with the silver and blue of the North. Guards stood in full formation along the approach, their armor polished, their posture precise. The gates themselves stood open, wide and welcoming, framed by the steady presence of soldiers who had been waiting since word of their approach arrived days earlier.
The column slowed as they entered.
The city pressed close around them, the streets filling with people who had gathered to witness their return. The cheers were there - measured, respectful, but lacking the wild, unrestrained energy that had greeted them in Peduviel.
Here, the people watched as much as they celebrated.
Aya felt it immediately.
The difference.
