The sun rose slowly, filtering through the thick branches of the trees and casting golden rays onto the ground, covered with wet leaves and moss. The forest, still scented with dew and damp earth, rustled softly in the morning breeze. Birds were awakening, their clear songs echoing through the massive trunks, while tiny droplets of dew sparkled like diamonds on the leaves.

  Thalen flapped his wings cautiously, at first slowly, then with more confidence. Each beat made his feathers shiver and sent small showers of dust and dead leaves scattering. The wind caressed his face and whistled softly through the branches, like an encouraging whisper. He felt every movement of his body, every beat of his wings, as if he were having a dialogue with the forest itself. His wounds still stung, but the lightness of the air and the morning’s softness gave him a renewed energy.

  Tharion, silent, extinguished the campfire. The smoke dissipated into the cool air, leaving behind a scent of burnt wood mingled with the smell of damp earth. He watched Thalen closely, scrutinizing every gesture, every movement of his wings. Once he had finished, he resumed walking alongside his friend, the spongy ground cushioning their steps, while the sun’s rays painted shifting patterns on the trunks along their path.

  “— Well… I guess it’s off to the city!” said Thalen with a smile, his eyes bright with excitement, reflecting the light filtering through the leaves.

  Tharion nodded silently, though his fingers tightened slightly, a mixture of worry and anxiety.

  In his head, Thalen reproached himself a little for his words: I shouldn’t have said that… but I wanted it so badly… so badly to see the city, to explore this world, and… understand the architecture…

  He remembered the evening before the monster’s attack, in front of the crackling fire. Shadows danced across the trunks, leaves rustled in the wind as if whispering around them, and the forest seemed alive yet silent. Thalen had broken the silence then:

  “— Tharion… would you like to go to a city? I really want to visit… I know nothing of this world, and… and architecture fascinates me.”

  Tharion, surprised, felt his heart tighten. He hesitated, looking at the still-sleeping forest around them, sunlight playing across the branches and leaves, small animals timidly awakening. Then, in a gentle but firm voice, he replied:

  “— Alright… we’ll go to the city, but I don’t know for how long. Maybe just passing through… maybe a little longer… I can’t promise anything.”

  Thalen’s eyes lit up, a mix of excitement and gratitude.

  “— Perfect!” he said, his heart pounding. “Then let’s go!”

  Tharion averted his gaze slightly, a mixture of disappointment and tenderness in his eyes.

  “— Alright.”

  The wind blew softly through the branches, making the leaves shiver and the tall grasses along their path sway. The smell of moss, earth, and wildflowers filled their noses. For the first time in a long while, despite the shadows of the past, the wind still caressed the leaves and branches, and the forest’s fragrance lingered in the damp air. Tharion walked at a steady pace on the moss-covered trail, Thalen perched on his shoulder, wings folded but trembling slightly, as if absorbing every detail around them.

  Thalen frowned, his wings quivering slightly on Tharion’s shoulder:

  “— Actually… I’ve never asked… how do I speak? I know I don’t speak French or English.”

  The Instinct snickered, sarcastic:

  “— You’re talking to me after getting a good beating… but yes, you’re right. Simply put: you speak with your soul and listen to others’. Remember what Tharion told you about the soul? Well… this is just another way of doing it. I think he already knows you speak like this.”

  Thalen nodded hesitantly:

  “— Hmmm… the soul… I have to regain my balance.”

  A little later, the forest gradually thinned, the trees becoming less dense, allowing more light and a warmer, pleasant breeze. The ground was scattered with wildflowers and smooth stones, and birds sang more freely, as if the forest itself was guiding them toward their destination. Thalen, perched on Tharion’s shoulder, flapped his wings gently, enjoying the newfound space to stretch.

  In the distance, they finally spotted the city. Beneath the turquoise water, complex structures appeared—massive pillars, perhaps remnants of an ancient city, standing like monuments frozen in time. The city unfolded in concentric circles, as if built around a forbidden center.

  The closer they got, the more the colossal ring revealed its details: it wasn’t just a stone dyke, but a barrier crafted with near-geometric precision. Its gigantic arches, intertwined with pilasters and marine sculptures, seemed to float above the water, allowing only faint reflections of light to pass, as if the sun struggled to cross this boundary. The ocean outside raged freely, each wave crashing against the structure with a dull roar, while inside, the water seemed suspended, almost motionless, as if frozen by an invisible hand. The mirrored surface reflected the towers and domes of the city with disturbing clarity, giving the impression that time itself slowed behind this barrier. Even the wind dared not cross the ring; only slight ripples betrayed the presence of a discreet current, as if the structure were breathing gently, separating two distinct aquatic worlds.

  And at the center… of the city, they saw it.

  A gigantic circular structure dominated everything.

  It was not merely a building.

  It was a monument. A heart.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  A cathedral and a castle, fused in impossible architecture.

  The base formed a perfect circle, as wide as an entire square, resting on a platform of light stone that seemed to float above the water. Around it, thick walls rose, pierced by immense Gothic arches, so high they seemed like gates for giants. The stones were cut with supernatural precision: no cracks, no rough edges—just pure lines, almost too smooth.

  At the top, the cathedral bore a dome… no.

  Not a dome.

  A vertical ring, like a crown reaching toward the sky.

  A crown of stone and metal, engraved with ancient symbols, seeming to encircle the void. And at the center of this ring, suspended like a relic: a dark mass, perhaps a gigantic bell… or something older.

  Around the central monument, the city organized itself like a ritual. Radial bridges extended from the castle-cathedral outward, like the branches of a star. They connected circular districts, each built on platforms, arches, and suspended walkways.

  Some streets weren’t streets: they were galleries. Stone corridors above the water, bordered by columns, where the ocean flowed beneath like a breath.

  And stranger still… there were towers.

  Not square or round towers as usual.

  Spiraled towers, twisted, as if the stone had been sculpted in motion. Some leaned slightly toward the center, as if drawn in. Others seemed to turn away, as if refusing to look at the cathedral.

  The castle itself held a royal aura… but not a warm one. Its circular walls were decorated with reliefs: scenes carved in stone, but so worn by time that only silhouettes were discernible. Occasionally, Thalen thought he recognized shapes: wings, crowns, eyeless faces.

  Like a monumental dyke or sacred road laid over the waves, sunlight reflected on sails and pillars, creating silvery reflections that sparkled on the water.

  Thalen felt his heart race, a mix of awe and excitement: This… is incredible… and I’m really going to see it up close!

  Tharion, silent but attentive, felt the impact of the landscape too. His eyes examined every detail, hands clenched—a mixture of caution and admiration.

  “— It’s… enormous,” Thalen murmured in his mind, fascinated.

  The sea breeze began to make itself felt, carrying the salty scent of water and algae. The city was no longer a distant dream: it stretched before them, majestic, mysterious, ready to reveal its secrets to those bold enough to venture near.

  They reached the bridge.

  It was immense, larger than they had imagined from afar. The light stone that formed it seemed almost polished, as if maintained for centuries. Massive arches supported the structure, plunging into the void before disappearing into the water.

  Beneath the bridge, the river stretched wide and deep. The water was dark, but not dirty. It reflected the sky like a fractured mirror, and the current moved slowly, with a quiet strength. Occasionally, light waves formed against the pillars, as if the river were breathing.

  The sound of the water rose to them: a mix of lapping and continuous murmuring, soothing… but also strange. As if something moved below without ever showing itself.

  Tharion stopped instinctively.

  His gaze fell on the surface, then on the arches. He sensed tension in the air, light, almost invisible. It wasn’t just the humidity or the wind. It was something else… a familiar sensation, like dormant magic.

  Thalen remained motionless beside him, observing the bridge cautiously.

  Ahead, the path continued straight, and at the end of the bridge, the city walls were already visible. Not defensive walls, no… rather elegant, decorative, as if the city simply wished to be beautiful, to assert its presence.

  They only had to cross.

  But neither of them moved right away.

  Thalen said nothing.

  He remained still for a few seconds, perched near the bridge, talons firmly gripping the ground. His feathers barely stirred, as if the wind dared not touch him.

  Then, without warning…

  He spread his wings. Slowly. Wide. Majestic.

  A soft shadow fell across the air.

  And in an instant, he took flight.

  Tharion froze on the bridge. He followed his silhouette in the sky.

  “— Seriously… without warning, huh?”

  He exhaled softly, more to calm himself than out of irritation. The air was strange here, but he already knew that. Water always had its own judgment.

  The current flowed beneath the bridge, dark and silent. Reflections trembled on the surface, circles formed and disappeared immediately. Normally, he would have sensed the water’s play, anticipated it…

  But now, it was no longer the water that concerned him.

  Thalen rose higher.

  And up there… the city revealed itself entirely.

  It was splendid. Its clear walls framed the city like an elegant border, not for defense, but to impose calm beauty. The towers rose at regular intervals, slender, sculpted, almost too perfect for a “normal” city.

  Inside, the roofs formed a sea of tiles in varying colors: blue-gray, deep red, sometimes gold, as if some houses had been blessed by light. The streets formed a harmonious, fluid plan, like a premeditated pattern.

  Round squares appeared between districts, with fountains, trees, and bustling markets. Even from this height, Thalen distinguished figures, suspended lanterns, fabrics fluttering in the air, and stone bridges connecting buildings like veins between districts.

  At the center, one structure dominated the city: a grand noble building, surrounded by terraces and hanging gardens. It seemed older than the rest, as if it had been the first stone placed… and the city had grown around it.

  But it was not just beautiful.

  It was… strange.

  The city emanated a presence. A gentle, almost invisible sensation, like a silent magic circulating through the streets, hidden in the walls, in the fountain waters, in the very air.

  Thalen hovered for a moment, eyes fixed on the city.

  It was magnificent. Too magnificent.

  The clear walls, the regular towers, the sculpted bridges… everything seemed perfectly planned, like a work of art. Even the roofs, aligned precisely, formed a harmonious tableau.

  A genuine fascination passed through him. An architect’s instinct. His gaze followed the lines, angles, proportions… as if the city were speaking his language.

  But he did not smile. His body remained tense.

  “— It’s… incredible,” he murmured.

  He paused, then added, softly:

  “— And that’s what worries me.”

  He did not take his eyes off the city.

  “— Everything is too clean. Too ordered. It doesn’t look like a city built to live in… It looks like a city built to be perfect.”

  He inhaled slowly.

  “— And I feel… that this perfection is not just an idea. It’s a will.”

  Thalen swallowed, fascinated… but lucid. He let out a brief, nervous laugh.

  “— I love it… a city too perfect, too calm… with a presence watching you.”

  He blinked.

  “— Yeah, no, it’s probably just me dramatizing. As usual.”

  Below, Tharion kept his eyes on the city. He knew how to read such signs. Something in this city was alive…

  “— Originally, I knew the city from one of my old friends, a hero. Since it was his hometown, he told me the water judged… but from what I see, it’s way too orderly,” said Tharion, shaking his head.

  He looked up. Thalen was already high above, very high.

  Tharion clicked his tongue, annoyed.

  “— …Well. Go ahead, I’ll stay here like an idiot.”

  He crossed his arms, motionless, watching the city and the water below, while the owl continued its silent flight over the rooftops.

  Thalen hovered in the sky for a moment, wings spread, observing.

  Then, slowly… he descended. Quietly, without a sound.