They kept walking ignoring the eyes.
Soon, the mist thinned.
Silvermere emerged from the haze like a city of silver and stone, its towers rising above the valley, its streets alive with motion.
Merchants called out from stalls lining the streets, their voices weaving through the clatter of hooves and the murmur of passing travelers.
The scent of fresh bread, roasted meat, and burning incense hung in the air.
People moved in a constant rhythm—traders unloading carts, couriers weaving through the crowd, children darting between the legs of armored guards.
Cassian let out a low whistle. "Now this is more like it."
'It's actually better than I thought it would be.'
Lindarion barely spared him a glance. His eyes swept the city, noting its structure, its defenses. Silvermere was built with intent.
Its outer districts spilled beyond the original walls, expanding into trade hubs and housing quarters, but at its core, it remained a fortress.
