The sun had fully risen, climbing higher into the sky.

  Rose was still seated atop the sail, her gaze fixed on the distant city of Veyrasha. Even now, its features were barely visible to her—and that was only natural. The city was still far away. According to one of the sailors who had been adjusting the sails earlier, it would take at least half a day to reach the harbor.

  But Rose didn’t care.

  She was far too excited.

  Her eyes remained locked on the city—and on the Lighthouse of Ur-Dan. It was growing larger on the horizon with every passing moment, sunlight reflecting brilliantly off its white marble surface.

  What astonished her even more was the sheer number of ships.

  Throughout their journey, Rose had seen only a handful of vessels scattered across the sea.

  Now?

  There were too many to count.

  All of them sailing toward the same destination.

  Even stranger—they were moving along what appeared to be three invisible paths across the water.

  Rose leaned down, looking at a sailor tying off a rope below.

  “Why are all the ships sailing in those three directions?” she asked.

  The sailor lifted his head, glancing at the distant vessels before looking back at her.

  “There’s a sea wall surrounding Veyrasha’s harbor,” he explained. “Three massive gates allow ships to pass through.”

  Rose, who had been sitting lightly on the mast, suddenly let herself drop—causing the sailor to flinch in alarm.

  She caught herself effortlessly, hanging upside down by her legs, hands clasped together as she stared at him from an inverted angle.

  “How do they open and close gates in the water?” she asked in fascination. “And how large are they if ships can pass through?”

  The sailor blinked at the upside-down girl who showed not a trace of fear.

  “They’re chain gates,” he said. “Heavy iron chains that can be raised or lowered to block or allow passage.”

  Rose nodded thoughtfully.

  “That makes sense. I don’t know why I imagined enormous wooden doors reinforced with iron.”

  She swung herself upright again and returned to her perch, focusing on the city.

  Now that she truly concentrated, she could see it—the faint outline of the massive sea wall encircling the harbor.

  How did they build something that large? she wondered.

  The harbor itself looked as big as a city.

  “Rose! Can you hear me? Get down!”

  Sai’s voice carried upward from below.

  Rose stood and stepped backward—

  —and dropped gracefully from one mast to the next, moving between them with fluid ease until she landed lightly in front of Sai.

  He gave her a look.

  “Commander Sharruk is gathering all the guards,” he said. “Including us. Let’s go.”

  “Alright,” Rose replied easily.

  Together, they moved toward the bow of the ship.

  Ahead, she could see the guards already assembled.

  And beside them stood Master Karandash—the caravan’s leader.

  As Sai and Rose approached, they caught the tail end of Commander Sharruk’s voice.

  “Master Karandash, I do not believe moving immediately after unloading is wise. By the time we dock and transfer the cargo, it will be near sunset. We should remain in the city for the night.”

  “No,” Karandash replied firmly. “We leave at once. I told you before, Sharruk—we can rest this evening in one of the nearby villages.”

  “The nearest village is at least ten hours away,” Sharruk answered, his tone tightening. “The road is relatively safe due to its proximity to the city—but there are still risks. We don’t need to expose the caravan to danger that can easily be avoided.”

  “I’ve already made my decision,” Karandash said flatly. “We will not remain in the city.”

  Sharruk held his gaze for a moment.

  “…As you wish.”

  Karandash turned toward a nearby worker.

  “Prepare the caravan. We depart the moment the cargo is transferred.”

  “Yes, sir!” the worker replied quickly before rushing off to relay the orders.

  Karandash exhaled sharply and began walking toward his cabin. As he passed Rose and Sai, they instinctively stepped aside.

  Sharruk muttered a curse in his native tongue—one harsh enough that even Sai blinked in surprise.

  “What’s happening?” Sai asked.

  “Foolishness,” Sharruk said bluntly. “And recklessness. I knew Master Karandash had enemies. I didn’t expect it to be this severe.”

  Sai frowned, trying to piece things together.

  Before he could speak again, Sharruk turned toward Rose and Mardukir.

  “You two will take the front of the caravan,” he ordered. “Stay alert all night. Assume the worst.”

  Mardukir grinned slightly.

  “Rose and I can handle whatever comes,” he said, casually placing a hand on her head.

  Rose immediately swatted it away.

  “I told you—I don’t like people touching my head. Look what you did to my hair.”

  The four guards couldn’t help but smile.

  Even Sharruk—despite his dark mood—allowed the faintest hint of amusement to cross his face.

  Rose, meanwhile, seemed utterly unconcerned about the possibility of an ambush.

  Sai looked back at Sharruk.

  “Are you certain about this, Commander? I still don’t fully understand what’s going on.”

  Kaveh, who had been quietly watching the sea, spoke at last.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “It seems Master Karandash neglected to mention that he has enemies within the guilds of Veyrasha.”

  He glanced toward Sharruk.

  “Perhaps it truly is wiser to avoid the city. A man with many enemies often has many allies—but the guilds of the Eastern Continent have been locked in a cold war for decades.”

  Sharruk nodded once.

  “That changes nothing about our task,” he said. “We protect the caravan.”

  He looked at Sai and Kaveh.

  “The moment we pass through the gates of Veyrasha, I want both of you spreading your aura. I want detection active at all times.”

  Then he turned to Zamirah.

  “You stay with the caravan. No scouting ahead this time. We’ll rely on magic to detect threats.”

  Finally, his gaze returned to Mardukir and Rose.

  “If anything is revealed—you engage immediately.”

  Zamirah inclined her head.

  “Understood.”

  Sharruk’s eyes hardened.

  “Now you know your roles. I’m going to speak with Master Karandash.”

  And with that, he walked away.

  The sea breeze still carried the scent of salt and promise—

  But the excitement of arrival had begun to sour into something sharper.

  Something waiting beyond the gates of Veyrasha.

  After several hours, the ship finally approached the massive sea wall that encircled the harbor of Veyrasha.

  Rose tilted her head upward, her eyes drawn once more to the Great Lighthouse of Ur-Dan.

  It rose like a pillar touching the heavens themselves.

  She had never seen anything like it in her entire life. Even the sunlight seemed to favor it—when it struck the white marble surface, the tower gleamed brilliantly, illuminating the carvings and intricate patterns etched into its body.

  It did not merely stand.

  It dominated.

  Her gaze shifted to the enormous gate in the sea wall as their vessel passed beneath it. Beyond the wall lay the three great harbor complexes—each one so vast it could have been a city of its own.

  They were circular in design, centered around large, round islands filled with buildings and facilities. Every ship that entered through one of the three main gates was guided toward the corresponding harbor structure.

  Hundreds of docking points lined the interior.

  Rose stared in awe.

  High above the harbor building toward which they were heading, men stood atop a platform holding flags. They moved them in deliberate patterns, signaling to incoming ships. Rose couldn’t decipher their meaning—but the captain clearly could.

  The ship advanced steadily.

  The harbor entrance was wide enough to allow multiple ships to enter and exit simultaneously. Inside, rows upon rows of piers extended outward like spokes of a wheel.

  One of the sailors standing atop a mast suddenly shouted something toward the captain.

  Rose blinked, confused, as the ship began adjusting its course.

  She leaned closer to Mardukir.

  “What did he say?”

  Mardukir pointed toward a distant pier.

  “Look there. Do you see that man holding something like a lantern?”

  Rose focused.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a magical tool,” Mardukir explained. “He’s directing a narrow beam of light toward one of our lookouts atop the mast. That’s how they designate the exact docking location.”

  Rose’s eyes widened slightly.

  “Look at the edge of the pier,” he continued. “Do you see the carved marking?”

  She squinted.

  “Yes… I see something engraved.”

  “That’s the name and number of the dock,” Mardukir said. “The lookout relays that information to the captain.”

  Rose was truly amazed.

  The scale of coordination… the precision… the order.

  With so many ships arriving and departing, chaos would have been inevitable without such discipline.

  As they approached their assigned pier, sailors began throwing thick ropes toward the dock. Workers—clearly harbor hands—caught them and secured them firmly around massive iron posts.

  The ship slowed.

  The final jolt of contact came as the hull gently kissed the pier.

  Then the captain’s voice rang out across the deck.

  “We’ve arrived! Prepare to unload the caravan!”

  The Eastern Continent was no longer a distant dream.

  It was beneath their feet.

  Rose stood beside Mardukir as the caravan workers finished loading the last of the cargo onto the pack animals.

  She looked around slowly.

  Everything felt different.

  Even the buildings.

  Most of them were constructed from reddish stone or brick—deep clay tones that gave the entire harbor district a warm, almost copper glow beneath the afternoon sun. The architecture was unfamiliar, angular in places, curved in others—nothing like the cities she had known before.

  “Get ready,” Mardukir said. “We’re nearly done.”

  Rose nodded.

  “Stay aware of your surroundings,” he continued. “We won’t be entering the city. We’ll take the outer road—along the eastern wall—and leave through that gate.”

  A flicker of disappointment crossed her face.

  She had wanted to see the city properly.

  A worker shouted from behind them.

  “We’re finished loading, Sir!”

  Karandash, who had just finished bidding farewell to the captain, turned sharply.

  “Move out.”

  The caravan lurched into motion.

  Animals were guided forward. Wheels creaked. Leather straps tightened.

  Rose and Mardukir took their position at the front as they rolled away from the harbor.

  The road leading outward was alive with movement.

  Caravans stretched in long, uneven lines—some arriving, others departing. Wagons heavy with spices, textiles, grain, and sealed crates passed one another in a steady current of trade. Dock workers shouted over the noise. Merchants argued loudly. Scribes hurried by, clutching tablets and stamped documents.

  The air smelled of salt, sweat… and coin.

  Rose had never seen so many caravans gathered in one place.

  Trade pulsed through the district like blood through veins.

  As they approached a checkpoint along the outer road, two armored guards stood beside a raised wooden barrier.

  A merchant ahead of them stepped down from his wagon.

  He spoke quietly.

  Then—almost casually—he slipped a small leather pouch into the palm of one of the guards.

  The pouch vanished into the guard’s belt without hesitation.

  The barrier lifted.

  No inspection.

  No questions.

  Rose slowed slightly.

  “They didn’t even check his cargo,” she muttered.

  Mardukir didn’t look surprised.

  “Of course not.”

  “That was a bribe.”

  “Yes.”

  “And no one says anything?”

  “Why would they?” he replied calmly. “The guards are underpaid. The officials take their share. The guilds take theirs. Everyone profits.”

  Rose frowned.

  “In my homeland, Lord Casper would never allow something like that.”

  Mardukir glanced at her briefly.

  “This isn’t your homeland.”

  They continued forward.

  As they walked, Rose felt it.

  A faint sensation.

  As if someone were watching.

  She leaned slightly toward him.

  “I feel like we’re being observed.”

  “Information guild eyes,” he replied. “Most likely.”

  “Shouldn’t we deal with them?”

  He sighed.

  “There’s no point. Remove one, another takes their place. They’re not targeting us specifically.”

  “Then what are they doing?”

  “Gathering information. Every caravan that docks. Merchants. Nobles. Cargo types.”

  Rose tilted her head.

  “I understand tracking people… but cargo?”

  “That’s simple,” Mardukir said. “Control the market. If you know how much of a certain good enters the city, who owns it, and how fast it circulates—you can manipulate supply. Create scarcity. Inflate value. Monopolize.”

  Rose blinked.

  “Is that allowed?”

  He gave her a faint, knowing smile.

  “Here? Gold rules everything.”

  He looked toward the massive eastern gate rising ahead.

  “And everything has a price. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

  Rose fell silent.

  This was not Lord Casper’s territory.

  This was something else entirely.

  “Prepare yourself,” Mardukir added quietly. “We’re nearing the gate.”

  Ahead of them rose the massive eastern gate of Veyrasha.

  Flanking it on both sides stood two colossal guardian statues.

  At first glance, they resembled griffons—yet they were far more imposing.

  Each bore the powerful body of a lion, muscles carved with deliberate exaggeration, frozen as though mid-stride. Broad chests. Extended claws gripping the stone foundations beneath them as if ready to spring forward at any moment.

  From their shoulders rose vast folded wings, each feather etched with meticulous precision. Even from a distance, the layered carvings caught the light, giving the illusion that the wings might unfurl at any second.

  Their heads were a fusion of predator and sky-sovereign—a sharp, curved beak like that of a great eagle, yet framed by a subtle sculpted mane that blended seamlessly into the leonine form. Crowns of carved stone rested above their brows, marking them not merely as beasts—but as rulers.

  Their eyes were set with polished amber stone.

  As the sun lowered toward the horizon, the fading light struck those eyes and made them glow faintly—almost watchful.

  Ancient script spiraled along their flanks, flowing characters carved deep into the marble like protective wards. Though weathered by time, their presence remained undeniable.

  To pass beneath them did not feel like simply exiting a city.

  It felt like stepping under the gaze of something ancient.

  Rose slowed her pace, staring upward in open admiration.

  “They’re beautiful,” she murmured. “But isn’t it risky placing statues like that at a gate? Wouldn’t they be destroyed in the first siege?”

  Mardukir gave a quiet chuckle as they continued forward beneath the stone guardians.

  “Who would lay siege to Veyrasha?”

  Mardukir chuckled softly.

  “Who would lay siege to Veyrasha?”

  He continued walking.

  “Unlike your homeland, Rose, the nobles here rule cities—not entire kingdoms or provinces. Their armies are small. Meant for maintaining order more than waging wars.”

  “Then why build walls like this?” she asked.

  “For them.”

  “For who?”

  “The Umman Erbi.”

  Rose shook her head.

  “I’ve never heard of them.”

  “They’re creatures,” he said. “A blend of insect and reptile. Many forms. Some reach three meters in height. Others barely one.”

  He paused.

  “Once every century, they emerge from the desert in the hundreds of thousands. They devour everything in their path for months—crops, animals, anything living—before retreating back into the dunes to breed and bury their eggs.”

  Rose felt a chill despite the warm air.

  “And this happens every hundred years?”

  “Roughly.”

  “When was the last time?”

  “Eighty years ago, give or take.”

  Rose exhaled slowly.

  “So we still have time.”

  “At least twenty years,” he confirmed. “Most cities begin storing supplies years in advance.”

  She didn’t respond.

  Instead, she tried to imagine them.

  Endless waves of insect-reptile creatures flooding the horizon.

  A century cycle of destruction.

  The gate loomed before them.

  The caravan passed beneath the marble giants just as the sun began to sink toward the horizon, bathing the red stone walls in firelight.

  Rose looked ahead.

  A new land.

  A new road.

  And far more dangers than she had imagined.

  “When we rest,” she said quietly, “I want to hear stories about them.”

  Mardukir glanced at her.

  “You will.”

  And the caravan rolled forward as the sun dipped lower behind the walls of Veyrasha.