Waking before dawn, I settled into meditation, focusing on the steady ebb and flow of mana within me. The inn was quiet at this hour, the only sounds being the faint creaking of wooden beams and the occasional murmur of someone stirring in another room. I lost myself in the stillness until a soft creak shattered the silence. My door eased open, and Freya leaned in.

“Time to get up. We’re leaving for breakfast in five minutes, so make sure you’re ready,” she said.

“I’m awake,” I grumbled, though I remained cross-legged on the floor for a few more seconds before pushing myself up and moving to quickly gather my things.

Once I had gotten ready and everyone had packed their things, we left our suite and descended the wooden staircase to the inn’s dining area. The scent of food drifted through the air, mingling with the low hum of quiet conversations between other early risers. The innkeeper greeted us with a nod as we took a table near the window, where pale dawn light filtered through the glass. 

After being ordered, it didn’t take long for our breakfast to be served—fried eggs, crisp bacon, thick slices of toast, plump sausages, and a bowl of fruit. I ate methodically, focusing on the fuel rather than the flavour. Across from me, Haela blinked sluggishly at her plate, stabbing half-heartedly at a piece of melon before nearly nodding off into her eggs. 

Freya sighed and nudged her. “Eat first. Sleep later.”

Haela mumbled something incoherent but obeyed, though she moved as though weighed down by lead. When it was time to grab our belongings and sign out, Ronan gave her a piggyback. The moment he lifted her, she went limp, head resting against his shoulder. He carried not only her but her luggage as well, along with my own, as if they were weightless.

As Freya settled the bill, I stood near one of the inn’s large windows. Through it, I caught the sight of the city stirring to life. The streets outside were already bustling—vendors setting up their stalls, merchants unloading goods, and travellers coming and going. 

Across the road, a small group loitered near an alleyway, yelling and throwing scraps of litter at a hooded figure passing by. The figure flinched but kept moving, hunched as though trying to shrink into themselves. Furred hands and clawed fingers peeked out from beneath the figure’s cloak—a beastman. The jeers continued, some loud enough to be heard in the inn’s quiet atmosphere.

The beastman quickened their pace, shoulders drawn in tight. No one intervened. No guards stepped forward. The passersby either didn’t notice or deliberately looked away.

No wonder there are only humans in Gilramore. I glanced at my family, but they were preoccupied—Ronan adjusting Haela on his back, Freya talking to the receptionist, and Chione watching the other guests at the inn with her usual evaluative gaze. None of them seemed to notice the scene unfolding nearby.

After leaving the inn and waiting until our carriage arrived, we boarded and departed from the city. The moment we settled in, Chione retrieved a book from her bag and flipped it open before we had even started moving. I sat opposite Freya in the same seat as yesterday. Halea immediately dozed off, her head resting on Ronan’s lap, while he and Freya spoke idly.

I let my gaze drift to the scenery outside. As the cityscape faded behind us, it was replaced by a vividly coloured landscape of lush fields, dense woodlands and an endless sky. For a moment, I simply admired it. The colours, the vibrancy, the sheer life of this world—it was still a sharp contrast to the gray monotonous existence of my past life. But admiration alone would do nothing for me, so I turned away from the window and resumed meditating.

I was making significant progress toward reaching iron core, and my mana pool was nearly large enough to practice spellcasting without suffering immediate backlash. Given another week or so, I would advance with ease.

Hours passed. The carriage rocked gently along the road, the rhythm lulling me into a deep, trance-like focus. 

By the time we arrived in Perlshaw, my legs were stiff, and my stomach was empty. As I blinked myself back to full awareness, I caught Freya watching me, frowning.

“We need to suppress your mana signature. It’s become too obvious,” she said, standing as the carriage rolled to a stop. “We’ll buy you a talisman while we’re here.”

Ronan nodded in agreement. Only then did I glance out the window and take in the city before us.

Perlshaw’s walls loomed overhead—massive constructs of reinforced concrete, stretching in either direction until they curved out of sight. The gate we had approached was equally colossal, wide enough to allow multiple carriages to pass through at once.

Freya hopped out of the carriage, moving to speak with the guards stationed at the entrance. She produced identification, exchanged a few words, and soon enough, we were allowed through. Freya returned to the carriage, and we began moving once more. 

Passing through the gate, Perlshaw unfolded before us. 

The streets were a maze of interwoven cobblestone paths, flanked by timber-framed houses and tall stone buildings. Market squares bustled with activity, watchtowers stood at key points throughout the city, and a towering gothic cathedral that pierced the skyline seemed to sit above it all. Judging by its grand and extravagant architectural style, it was a church of Thorvek, the Lord of Power and Conquest.

I wasn’t religious, but even I understood the importance of gods in this world. Faith held weight here, and the various religions often wielded an incredible influence that could extend beyond politics and power.

As we continued deeper into the city, a shimmer of light caught my eye. Turning a corner, we finally came upon it—Pearl River.

The body of water split Perlshaw in half, wide and gleaming under the midday sun. The river’s surface shimmered like liquid diamond, reflecting the cityscape with dazzling clarity. Naming it ‘pearl’ almost felt inadequate; it was more akin to a river of stars. Bridges arched over the water, connecting the two halves of the city, while large, reinforced stone grates controlled the flow where the river met the city wall. Within the river, naiads could be seen swimming freely amongst the fish, their movements effortless, like ripples in silk.

Eventually, we arrived at another inn on the far side of the river, offering a view of the glistening water and the boats ferrying people across. As I stepped out of the carriage, a naiad swam up to the riverbank, dived below the surface, and then shot out of the water. She landed gracefully on the cobbled street, bare feet meeting stone without a splash. She wore a tight-fitting scaled bodysuit, her aqueous blue hair flowing like water even on dry land. The droplets that clung to her pale blue skin didn’t fall, instead adhering to her body as if by magic. Now out of the water, the gills on her neck closed, becoming nearly invisible to the naked eye. You would only ever find naiads around large bodies of water like this that they could swim in, as they had to prevent their bodies from drying out.

Sensing my gaze, she turned and smiled before strolling down the street, not a single drop left in her wake as the water clung to her. As the light reflected off her skin, I noticed the barely visible layer of scales covering most of her body.

Unlike humans, all nymphs were born with magical properties, whether they were mages or not. Naiads were physically stronger than regular humans and had an innate ability to manipulate water, though their mages had limited potential for growth. All naiad mages could summon and control water, but on rare occasions, some could also wield the vitality element.

I finally turned away from the river and followed my family into the inn, where we booked a luxurious three-bedroom suite, similar to the one we stayed at in Gilramore. After settling in, we had lunch at a nearby restaurant and spent the rest of the day exploring the city. It quickly became apparent that the citizens of Perlshaw were preparing for some kind of festival. 

Despite my repeated protests, we stopped by a dessert café. While Ronan ordered each of us a slice of honey cheesecake, he asked the server about the ongoing preparations.

“We’re holding the Advent of Dragons in a week's time,” she replied. “It’s an annual tradition here where the city comes together to celebrate and worship the Lord.”

Dragons were a symbol of power, and it was therefore believed they had a deep connection to the god of power—Thorvek, whom the entire city seemed devoted to. My parents were also followers of the god.

Ronan smiled and nodded. “Maybe we can join it on our way back.”

Not long after, the server returned with our desserts. I forked off a piece of cheesecake and took a bite. Way too sweet, I lamented. Haela, on the other hand, finished hers in record time and, in the end, ate the rest of mine as well. I thought two slices would be enough to keep her awake, but as soon as we left the café, she climbed onto Ronan’s back and promptly fell asleep once more.

From there, we went searching for a talisman to suppress my mana signature with.

Coming across a magical items shop on the edge of a market square, Freya told the rest of us to wait outside before heading in alone. We loitered nearby, doing our best to stay out of the way of passersby. Guards patrolled the area occasionally, walking past us without issue. Next to me, Chione crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently, but said nothing.

I turned to face the square just as another pair of guards entered from a connected street. One of them glanced to the side at a passing naiad. 

Ronan took a step forward, positioning himself slightly in front of me and Chione, though his expression remained unbothered. Since I was barely a mage, I could hardly perceive the increase in his mana signature, but I felt just enough to know he had stopped suppressing it.

He glanced back at Chione, speaking as though in passing. “Kane, try to erase your signature.” 

He was diverting attention to Chione while amplifying his own presence to cover mine. That likely meant someone—maybe one of the guards that just entered the square—was a mage strong enough to notice me.

Without responding, I closed my eyes and turned my focus inwards. I had no idea how to alter my mana signature, so instead, I froze all the small movements of my meridians and core. Maintaining my concentration, I reopened my eyes as one of the guards gave a perfunctory sweep of the area. He glanced over us before doing a double take. 

At that moment, somebody touched my hand, and something cool and metallic clicked into place around my wrist. Freya had emerged from the store, moving swiftly and without a word as she fastened a bracelet around my arm. I couldn’t sense any immediate changes—no shift in mana, no suppression—so I held my breath and steadied myself, resisting the urge to watch the guards.

In apparent confusion to their partner's reaction, the second guard murmured something to the first, who hesitated for a moment before shaking his head and turning away.

Only when they disappeared into the crowd did I exhale, my shoulders loosening slightly. I lifted my wrist to examine the bracelet. A band of polished metal encircled my wrist, its surface smooth except for the delicate engravings curling around an orange gemstone. The inscriptions were faint, almost imperceptible unless the light caught them at the right angle.

“Perfect timing,” Ronan said. “That guard seemed to be a silver core mage, but with how quickly he recognised that naiad as a mage his sensitivity must have been on the level of a gold core.”

I frowned, still feeling no difference in my mana signature. Does this thing even work? Since both Ronan and Freya had relaxed, I decided to trust its efficacy.

“Were you going to use me as bait?” Chione muttered, her arms still crossed.

“Only if the situation called for it,” Ronan chuckled, completely unrepentant. “You’re a perfectly normal age to awaken, so they wouldn’t question it. If they decided to investigate you anyway, they wouldn’t have found anything anyway.”

Chione pouted but didn’t argue.

With that, we resumed exploring the city. Perlshaw remained lively, its streets filled with vendors calling out their wares and craftsmen displaying their latest works. The air carried the mingling scents of fresh bread, roasting meat, and sweet spices. Banners and lanterns were being strung up along the buildings, further proof of the upcoming festival.

We wandered through different districts, passing by merchant stalls selling various trinkets, blacksmiths showcasing their merchandise, and even a group of street performers juggling flames. Haela, having woken up and gotten off Ronan’s back at some point, practically bounced with excitement at every turn, while Chione looked at everything with a critical eye, as if evaluating the quality of each shop we passed.

By the time night fell, the once-blue sky had deepened into rich indigo, and the lanterns lining the streets glowed softly against the dark. We stopped at a well-regarded tavern for dinner, where Ronan splurged on another round of dessert under the pretense of enjoying the trip while we could. Haela, unsurprisingly, devoured hers and half of mine.

Eventually, we returned to the inn, exhaustion finally setting in and quickly lulling me to sleep.

After waking in the morning, I could see the glimmer of reflected light from the river piercing through the curtains and spilling into the room. I sat up and stretched, then settled into meditation as I had the past few mornings, letting my focus sink into the flow of mana.

After some time, Freya opened the door and told me to get ready before disappearing again. Opening my eyes, I caught a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye—something outside the window. I got up and approached the window, but all I saw was a single white feather drifting through the air, carried away by the wind. A bird, most likely.

The rest of the morning unfolded much like the previous one. After getting ready, we gathered our belongings, had breakfast, and departed. Before long, we were back in the carriage, the city of Perlshaw shrinking behind us until it was nothing more than a distant speck on the horizon. Freya sat opposite me again, her worn face appearing mildly healthier than it had when we left Damerel. In fact, the collective mood within the carriage seemed to have risen over the past two days.

The final stretch of our journey to Eryndrel had begun.