The journey lasted three days. As they moved further from the forest, the air grew heavy, thick with smoke and the metallic scent of the forges. When they finally sighted the Iron Capital, Adara felt a chill. There were no trees, only immense walls of black stone and towers that clawed at the sky with cold arrogance.
"Open the gates!" shouted Karan's company from atop the wall. Four guards peered out, and upon seeing the insignia on their carriage, they let them pass without much ado. Adara, filled with curiosity, observed the villages and the peasants covered in mud, who, with each step the carriage took, stopped smiling and bowed before it. Adara naively thought it was a tradition, so she simply smiled.
As they entered the suburbs, before reaching the noble district, reality hit her like a ton of bricks. There was no harp music here, only the cries of merchants and the wailing of filthy children begging on street corners. She saw a strong man snatching bread from an old man; she saw human guards kicking beggars to clear a path for the royal carriage.
"Karan..." Adara whispered, turning away from the window in horror. "Why isn't anyone helping them?"
Karan looked at her with a lukewarm expression.
"In my world, Adara, nobility is a privilege reserved for those with the power to uphold it. Here, the law is simple: the strong survive, the weak serve. It's a bitter truth that has plagued the human world for generations."
Conflict at the Gates of the Lower Sector
Suddenly, the carriage screeched to a halt. A group of human mercenaries, rough men with scars and patched armor, blocked the road. They were collecting a "blood toll" from the travelers. Upon seeing the luxurious carriage, they assumed it belonged to a new merchant heading to the noble quarter, as immortals rarely displayed such extravagance in their carriages. Instead of stepping back out of respect, they smiled maliciously, waiting for an opportunity to plunder.
A burly man, an axe slung over his shoulder, spat on the ground and approached the carriage window, unaware of who was inside.
"Well, well... silk and perfumes in the rats' quarter," the mercenary grumbled. "Pay the tribute, or these wheels won't turn anymore."
Adara felt bitterness; she felt her magnificent dowry had caused so much trouble, a pure and innocent emotion in the face of such aggression. Adara was about to hand the man a few gold coins when she sensed a change in the atmosphere. Karan, who until that moment had been the sweet and attentive husband, transformed.
Karan opened the carriage door with terrifying slowness. As he stepped out, the air around him dropped ten degrees. Frost coated the cobblestones beneath his boots. He didn't draw his sword; he didn't need to.
"Tribute?" Karan's voice was a lethal whisper that made the mercenaries take a step back. "I am the General of the Winter Shadows. I am the one who decides who lives in this city and who becomes part of the pavement."
The mercenary leader paled as he recognized the Immortals' insignia. He reached for his axe, but before his fingers touched the handle, Karan moved like lightning. With a single flick of his wrist, an ice spike erupted from the ground, stopping just millimeters from the man's throat.
"The next time you stop my carriage," Karan said, his gaze so cold the mercenary began to tremble, "I will make sure your entire bloodline ends today. Get out."
The men fled in terror, stumbling over each other. Karan returned to the carriage and closed the door. His features softened again as he looked at Adara, but the trace of death still danced in his pupils.
"Welcome home, Adara," he said calmly. "Here, purity is a treasure that I, Karan, am prepared to protect with blood, for the cunning of men knows no mercy."
Adara looked outside, seeing for the first time the shadow of human cruelty. She clung to Karan's arm, understanding that her elven nobility would not be enough in this place.
Adara was a little anxious because young elves aren't taught elven magic until after their coming-of-age ceremony. This is because we can be sought in marriage by other kingdoms, and it protects us from revealing our secrets to other races.
Adara thought it was the right thing to do, but she also lacked physical training. She didn't know how to fight; her father, for some reason, never wanted her to learn to use a sword or any other weapon. She only knew about etiquette, dancing, and common spells that enhance her beauty. Ahhhh, Adara sighed inwardly.