**Chapter 48 – The Celestial Capital**
**[BORDERS OF ELLIS CAPITAL – MIRROR LAKE BRIDGE ]**
The carriage **stopped** gently — wheels creaking one final time before going still, the white horses snorting vapor from their nostrils after hours of steady travel, muscles trembling slightly beneath sweat-glistening coats that shone under the setting sun.
**Júlia** descended first — fluid movements of a trained warrior, boots touching solid ground with a muffled sound, automatically adjusting the sword at her waist from months of developed reflex.
**San** followed — less gracefully, nearly stumbling on the last step but recovering balance quickly, immediately turning to extend a helping hand to the next person.
**Jéssica** accepted his hand and descended elegantly — posture straight like someone accustomed to being watched, pink hair catching the golden light of dusk, white armor gleaming immaculate even after days of travel.
---
The coachman — a sixty-year-old man with a long gray beard and hands calloused from decades holding reins — descended from the bench with an audible crack in his knees, turning to them with a genuine, tired but satisfied smile.
Júlia approached first:
— Thank you so much for the ride, sir. — Respectful, sincere voice. — We arrived safely because of you.
San nodded vigorously:
— Yes! Thank you very much! Without you it would have taken us three more days walking and we probably would have run into trouble along the way.
Jéssica tilted her head slightly — a gesture that could be interpreted as thanks or evaluation — then spoke in a **peculiarly** analytical tone:
— It's absolutely true. You serve **perfectly** as an obedient and efficient subordinate. — Thoughtful pause. — Punctual, followed instructions without question, maintained steady pace… yes, definitely model employee material.
Brief and slightly uncomfortable **silence**.
San and Júlia exchanged a quick glance — *she's doing it AGAIN* — but said nothing.
---
The coachman simply **laughed** — deep, genuine sound, no apparent offense:
— I only did what any faithful servant of Goddess Nellis **should** do naturally. — He thumped his chest with a fist over his heart in a ritual gesture. — Guiding Her sacred knights is an immense **honor** granted, not a heavy obligation. You protect the continent; the least I can do is ensure you reach your destinations quickly and safely.
Eyes shining with genuine devotion:
— May the light of the Goddess always illuminate your paths and protect you from all darkness.
---
Júlia **felt** something tighten in her chest — not discomfort, but… guilt? Inadequacy?
*Sacred knights.*
*That's how they see us.*
*But am I really worthy of that?*
*After…*
*After the Maestro…*
*After almost…*
She shook her head imperceptibly — dispersing the thought before it could sink deeper.
Forced a **smile** — small but present — and approached the coachman, gently placing a hand on his arm:
— Even so… — voice softer, more **human** — …we are **very** grateful that you accompanied us this far with such dedication and patience. From the heart.
She looked directly into his eyes:
— Thank you. Seriously.
---
The coachman seemed **genuinely** touched — eyes growing slightly moist, smile widening:
— It was… it was an absolute **honor**, Lady Knight. — Voice trembling slightly with emotion. — An honor I will carry with me until the end of my days and tell my grandchildren about the day I transported three of the Goddess's knights.
He made a deep bow — bending forty-five degrees, holding the position for three respectful seconds.
Then straightened, turned to the carriage, climbed onto the bench with an audible effort in his knees.
Took the reins — lightly cracked the air, making the horses begin to turn, starting the return along the same path they had come.
---
Júlia stood **still** — watching the carriage slowly pull away, its silhouette growing smaller against the golden horizon of the sunset that painted the sky in shades of orange, pink, and deep purple.
*He really believes.*
*In us.*
*In the Goddess.*
*In everything.*
*Such pure and simple faith.*
*Without questioning.*
*Without doubts.*
*How good it must feel…*
*…not to have to carry memories that…*
She brutally **stopped** the thought.
*No.*
*Focus.*
*Mission to report.*
*After…*
*…after I can process.*
*Maybe.*
She took a deep breath — filling her lungs with fresh air that smelled faintly of wildflowers and clean lake water.
Looked at her own **HUD** — translucent interface only she could see, floating in the lower-left corner of her vision.
---
**[SYSTEM - PERSONAL INTERFACE]**
```
╔════════════════════════════════╗
║ USER: JÚLIA ║
║ CLASS: SWORDSMAN (MASTER) ║
║ LEVEL: 30 ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ HP: 3000/3000 [████████] ║
║ MANA: 500/500 [████████] ║
║ STAMINA: 250/250 [████████] ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ XP: 4000/5500 (73%) ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ STATUS: MENTALLY EXHAUSTED ║
║ EFFECT: UNPROCESSED TRAUMA ║
╚════════════════════════════════╝
```
The last line **flashed** in faint red — a warning she had been trying to ignore for days.
*Mental status.*
*The system knows.*
*Of course it knows.*
*It knows everything.*
She closed the interface with a thought — it vanished instantly.
Turned to San and Jéssica waiting patiently:
— Alright, team. — Voice returning to firm leadership tone, social mask repositioned. — Let's report the successful completion of our first full official mission with total success.
Forced a smile — not genuine but appropriate:
— And then… then we can finally rest properly.
---
San and Jéssica **nodded** — San enthusiastic, Jéssica with a neutral analytical expression.
They all **turned** simultaneously — looking forward.
And **saw**.
---
**[MIRROR LAKE & GOLDEN BRIDGE]**
Ahead stretched — impossible to ignore, dominating the entire landscape, stealing the breath of anyone seeing it for the first or thousandth time with the same intensity — **Mirror Lake**.
Not a poetic name given by romantic inhabitants.
A **literal** name.
Water so perfectly **calm**, so absolutely **still** that the surface functioned as a gigantic three-kilometer-diameter mirror, reflecting the sky above with such perfect fidelity that it was impossible to tell where water ended and sky began, creating a vertiginous illusion that the city beyond floated in **emptiness** between two identical skies.
The setting sun's light — now low on the horizon, perhaps twenty minutes from disappearing completely — **exploded** across the lake's surface in millions of golden, pink, orange, and deep purple reflections that danced hypnotically, transforming the water into an impressionist painter's canvas using only light as paint.
And **cutting** through that natural mirror like a silver blade through silk — the **Golden Bridge**.
---
It wasn't golden in name only.
It was **literally** golden — built entirely of polished white marble imported from quarries five hundred kilometers away, interlaced with veins of real gold that ran through the stone in patterns that were not random but followed complex sacred geometry, symbols of Goddess Nellis engraved so finely they seemed **painted** rather than carved, each symbol **glowing** faintly with its own magical light that intensified as the sun descended.
The bridge extended for **two full kilometers** — straight as an arrow shot by a god, wide enough for six carriages to pass comfortably side by side, massive ten-meter-diameter pillars plunging into the lake's depths at one-hundred-meter intervals, each pillar carved with reliefs of saints and martyrs of the church that seemed to **watch** everyone who crossed.
And at the **ends** of the bridge — guarding entrance and exit like eternal sentinels — colossal twenty-meter-high statues depicting **Goddess Nellis** herself: a woman of supernatural beauty with arms **open** in a gesture of welcome and protection, eyes turned toward the sky but expression of infinite compassion, robes sculpted with details so fine they seemed to **move** with nonexistent wind, and around her head — a **floating crown** of solidified pure light that truly **floated** three centimeters above the stone through permanent magic so ancient no living person knew how to replicate it anymore.
---
The group began to **walk** — boots making a rhythmic sound against polished marble.
As they crossed the bridge, San couldn't **resist** — leaned slightly over the ornate railing to look at the water below:
— I still can't believe this lake never has **waves**. — Voice full of childish wonder. — Not even when the wind is strong. Not even when it rains. Always… perfectly still.
Jéssica beside him looked too — analytical:
— Fifth-order divine magic maintained by a network of mana crystals buried in the lake bed. — Tone as if reciting from a manual. — Annual maintenance cost estimated at three million gold coins. Efficiency questionable considering the expense is purely aesthetic, but I admit the visual impact is… — pause — …adequate for impressing visitors and reinforcing the church's image of power.
San glanced at her — *she really can't just APPRECIATE something* — but said nothing.
---
They reached the **end** of the bridge.
And there — blocking entry through a massive black iron gate carved with more sacred symbols that **glowed** in gold, each bar as thick as a century-old tree trunk, eight meters high making it impossible to climb — stood the **guardians**.
Two guards — not ordinary soldiers but **Golden Paladins**, absolute elite of the church's military order, each over two meters tall chosen specifically for their intimidating size, wearing full armor that was not just gold-accented but **entirely** golden, every plate polished to mirror-like reflection, closed helmets with cross-shaped visors leaving only eyes visible, long white capes reaching the ankles floating slightly in the breeze even without strong wind, and in their hands — three-meter spears with tips that **glowed** with permanent holy light, weapons capable of piercing dragon armor and purifying undead with a single touch.
---
When the group approached to **five meters** — both paladins **struck** the bases of their spears on the ground simultaneously.
**CLANG.**
The sound reverberated like a cathedral bell.
They crossed spears completely blocking passage — perfectly synchronized movement.
Voice emerged from **both** simultaneously — not shouting but projecting with authority that accepted no disobedience:
— **HALT**. Identify yourselves and state your purpose.
Not a request.
**Order**.
---
Júlia stepped forward — posture erect, hand over heart in military salute:
— Júlia of Thornvale, Explorer Knight of the Sacred Order of Nellis, mid-rank, returning from assigned mission. — Firm, clear voice. — Accompanied by San of Westmarch and Jéssica of Norfield, both knights under my temporary command.
San and Jéssica repeated the salute behind her.
---
The paladin on the **left** — distinguished by three golden stars engraved on the right shoulder of his armor indicating captain — nodded slightly.
Lowered his spear — not unblocking entry but reaching his belt with his free hand.
Withdrew a **grimoire** — not an ordinary book but a tome bound in pure white leather with the Goddess's symbol embossed in gold on the cover, pages glowing faintly even when closed, thin silver chains connecting the book to the paladin's belt through magic that prevented theft.
Opened the grimoire — pages turning on their own until stopping at a specific section covered in runes that **pulsed** in the rhythm of a heartbeat.
Voice emerged deep, resonant, carrying **weight** that made the air vibrate:
— **Sacred Identification**.
---
The grimoire **exploded** in light.
Not metaphor — literally exploded in a wave of pure golden light that expanded radially, enveloping Júlia, San, and Jéssica completely in a translucent shining sphere.
Júlia **felt** — not physically but in something deeper, something close to the soul — a presence **scanning** through her, examining every aspect of existence: true name, class, level, moral alignment, present intentions, crimes committed, lies told, oaths made, oaths broken, **everything** exposed under divine scrutiny that could not be deceived by magic or mundane skill.
The sensation was… **violating**.
Intrusive in a way that made skin crawl and stomach churn.
But it was **necessary**.
The capital's security could not be compromised.
---
**Sixty full seconds**.
That felt like ten minutes.
Then the light **retracted** — returning to the grimoire that closed with a dry sound, chains tinkling.
The captain looked down, reading something only he could see on the pages:
— Júlia of Thornvale. Confirmed. Explorer Knight mid-rank. Level 30. Swordsman Master class. No active alerts. No arrest warrants. Alignment… — brief pause — …neutral-good with growing but non-problematic doubt tendencies. Approved.
Looked at San:
— San of Westmarch. Confirmed. Apprentice Knight. Level 22. Warrior class. No alerts. Good-pure alignment with above-average devotion. Approved.
Looked at Jéssica:
— Jéssica of Norfield. Confirmed. Explorer Knight mid-rank. Level 28. Strategist class. No alerts. Alignment… — longer pause — …neutral-true with uncommon pragmatic tendencies but non-problematic. Approved.
He stored the grimoire back on his belt.
---
Both paladins **raised** their spears simultaneously — unblocking entry.
The massive gate began to **open** — not with creaking hinges but silently, smoothly, through magical counterweights, each half of the gate weighing literal tons but moving as if it were a floating feather.
The captain's voice sounding **formal**:
— Passage granted. Welcome back to Ellis Capital, Jewel of the Central Continent, Home of Eternal Faith, Bastion Against Darkness.
Pause:
— May the Goddess illuminate your steps.
They struck their spears on the ground again in salute.
---
The group **crossed** the gate.
And **finally** — after days of travel, after a dangerous mission, after everything — they entered.
---
**[ELLIS CAPITAL – OUTER DISTRICT]**
Júlia had seen Ellis **hundreds** of times.
She had lived there for months.
But **never** — absolutely **never** — did it fail to steal her breath.
---
The capital stretched ahead like a vision torn straight from the dream of a god architect.
**Streets** were not packed earth or irregular stones — they were **polished white marble** imported from quarries five hundred kilometers away, each block exactly three meters by three meters fitted so perfectly that not even a knife blade could fit between joints, surface polished until it shone reflecting the sky above, creating the illusion of walking on clouds.
**Buildings** — not simple houses but **mansions** every one, even the smallest — constructed in a unique architectural style blending elven elegance with dwarven solidity, resulting in structures that were simultaneously delicate and eternal, white marble walls interlaced with veins of sky-blue crystal that **glowed** faintly after sunset, absorbing daylight and releasing it at night, roofs not of thatch or wood but of deep blue enameled ceramic tiles so brilliant they seemed made of liquified sapphire solidified, each tile engraved with a minor protection symbol that kept interiors cool in summer and warm in winter without need for fireplaces.
**Squares** — not chaotically open but geometrically planned — scattered at regular three-hundred-meter intervals, each with a central fountain not of stone but of true **gold** sculpted in the form of a different aspect of Goddess Nellis in every square: Warrior-Nellis, Healer-Nellis, Protector-Nellis, Judge-Nellis, Comforter-Nellis, each three-meter statue with crystal-clear water pouring from outstretched hands in perfect arcs returning to the marble basin below, water **glowing** faintly with minor purification magic making it potable and curative for minor ailments.
---
And **knights** — **hundreds** of them — walking the streets in organized patrols.
But not all identical.
**Three main colors** distinguishing functions:
**Reds** — Capital Guardians, armor dyed deep crimson with silver details, responsible for internal defense and order maintenance, the most numerous with perhaps eighty patrolling just the visible district, relaxed but alert posture, hands never far from weapons, greeting citizens politely but eyes always **scanning** for threats.
**Golds** — Elite Paladins like those at the entrance, entirely golden armor, positioned **statically** in front of the most important mansions and minor temples, not patrolling but **guarding**, still as statues except for eyes that followed every movement within a hundred-meter radius, their presence silently communicating: *This place is critical. Do not test.*
**Blues** — Explorer Knights like Júlia, armor dyed sky-blue with more elaborate silver details, the least numerous visible perhaps only fifteen, walking in apparently casual trios but actually tactical formation, these were the ones who left the city on investigative missions, monster hunts, dungeon explorations, eyes carrying the **weight** of those who had seen things others only hear in stories.
---
San looking around — eyes **shining** with renewed admiration even though he had seen it before:
— Ellis. Always so… so **bustling** and organized as ever. — Took a deep breath. — It's really good to be back.
Jéssica beside him — expression shifting to something close to… disappointment?
— These ones are all **brutes**. — Almost grumbling. — Nothing like the naturally submissive villagers. They all think they're important, follow orders but always question internally, rigid military hierarchy prevents efficient work dynamics… nothing like ideal employees.
She sighed:
— I honestly miss the little village.
San and Júlia exchanged another glance — *here she goes again* — but said nothing.
---
Júlia pointed forward — toward the structure that dominated the skyline even from two kilometers away:
— Let's go. We need to notify mission completion immediately. — Voice returning to command tone. — The Sacred Chamber doesn't wait, and the longer we delay, the more questions we'll have to answer about the delay.
She began to **walk** — San and Jéssica automatically following.
---
They crossed the **Outer District** — where mid- and low-rank knights lived, where wealthy but non-noble merchants operated expensive shops, where visitors from other cities stayed in luxurious inns.
Passed through the **Middle District** — where high-rank knights lived in two-story mansions, where minor nobles maintained secondary residences, where smaller temples dedicated to specific aspects of the Goddess offered specialized blessings to the faithful.
And finally reached the border of the **Inner District** — where only the absolute elite resided permanently, where great nobles owned four-story mansions, where military commanders planned strategies, where decisions affecting the entire continent were made in private rooms.
And at the **absolute center** of this district — now clearly visible dominating everything — rose the **Sacred Chamber of Ellis**.
---
Not a temple.
Not a cathedral.
A **fortress** and **palace** and **temple** fused into a single impossible structure.
Central tower one hundred and fifty meters tall — taller than any construction within five hundred kilometers, visible from any point in the capital and beyond, built entirely of white marble so pure it seemed to glow with its own light even at night, crowned at the top with a colossal fifty-meter statue of Goddess Nellis with arms open over the entire city, the statue covered in real gold that captured and reflected sunlight during the day, transforming the summit into a beacon visible for dozens of kilometers.
Around the central tower — six smaller eighty-meter towers arranged in a perfect hexagon, connected by suspended bridges of translucent crystal that appeared to float without visible support, each tower dedicated to a different aspect of the faith: Tower of Judgment, Tower of Healing, Tower of Combat, Tower of Knowledge, Tower of Protection, Tower of Redemption.
And above it all — literally above, floating three hundred meters in the air with no visible support connected to the ground — the Floating Cathedral, an island of stone and crystal two kilometers in diameter eternally sustained by divine magic so ancient and powerful that not even the wisest archmages could fully comprehend it, glowing softly in gold and white, accessible only through magical portals activated by supreme-rank priests, the place where the High Priest resided and where the church's most critical decisions were made in divine isolation.
Júlia stopped — twenty meters from the main gate of the Sacred Chamber.
She looked up — the tower disappearing into the high clouds.
Took a deep breath.
Here we go.
Report the mission.
Answer questions.
And maybe…
…maybe finally manage to sleep without seeing those eyes of the Maestro staring at me.
She turned to San and Jéssica:
— Ready?
Both nodded.
Together — they walked toward the entrance.
[DAYS REMAINING: 169]
[JÚLIA: RETURNING TO BASE, UNPROCESSED TRAUMA]
[STEVE: DISTANT, SEARCHING FOR NESSIRAS]
[SEPARATE PATHS]
[BUT DESTINIES INTERTWINED]
[CONVERGENCE: INEVITABLE]
[NEXT: TRUTHS ABOUT THE PREVIOUS MISSION]