The problem lay in my insufficient level. And what was even more problematic: no team with a shred of tactical sense would allow a novice witch to join their ranks when they already had several experienced and battle-tested mages.
—Help us and let us focus on the main mission. We'll protect you from immediate danger. Understood? —Mica had declared with a conviction that now seemed suspicious to me.
—Sure —I had replied.
Considering that most Illuminated began their journey as mere assistants regardless of their rank, Mica's words had seemed very considerate. It wasn't just about assessing my combat skills but about participating in various missions and adventures to gain practical knowledge and invaluable life experience.
I observed my surroundings, enveloped by the night that had draped the city in its starry cloak. Yet, the faint glow of magical streetlights kept the darkness at bay with silent technological efficiency. I was positioned in the heart of a cobblestone street, where irregular bricks and stones revealed centuries of urban planning and construction effort. I approached a nearby building and, leaning my back against a solid stone pillar, slid to the ground. A sigh escaped my lips, laden with exhaustion that weighed as heavily on my body as on my analytical mind.
The streets were divided into lanes that ensured optimal traffic flow, while elevated sidewalks, protected by discreet metal railings, offered safe refuge for pedestrians. I vividly recalled my initial arrival in Sherazade, remembering the plazas I had explored with scientific fascination, especially the majestic Central Plaza. During daylight hours, that place buzzed with contagious commercial energy: stalls overflowing with fresh vegetables, exotic imported spices, and local artisanal products that formed a sensory kaleidoscope of vibrant colors and intoxicating aromas.
—Come try our delicious grilled fish, freshly caught!
—Hot and fresh oyster soup! Enjoy it in the morning and feel revitalized all day!
The vendors, with warm voices and refined persuasive techniques, offered deals that seemed genuinely irresistible, while older women, with commercial cunning honed by decades of experience, haggled without yielding an inch. Amid the diverse crowd, young people succumbed to the tempting aroma of grilled meat skewers, their juices sizzling on contact with the fire, promising a gastronomic delight that melted perfectly in the mouth. Some paused to carefully compare before making purchases. Others waved their hands with visible impatience, as they hadn't yet secured a job for that particular day.
From my privileged perspective, Sherazade unfolded like a living, pulsating urban canvas. Compared to Danafor, the underground city where the guild resonated amid oppressive shadows, this capital shone with a symphony of urban perfection that dazzled all the senses. The ochre stone buildings aligned in harmonious rows, the main avenues gleamed impeccably, and social life buzzed with energy in every corner: citizens absorbed in their routine daily tasks, a constant murmur of economic and social activity.
My curious mind speculated about the possibilities: what unimaginable technological treasures might the local specialty shops hold? What engineering marvels could master blacksmiths create in their smoky forges? The majestic and enigmatic religious temples also sparked my investigative interest.
It was hard to fathom that a devastating war was being waged somewhere geographically, such was the peaceful vitality that permeated the urban air. Fortified castles, watchtowers, and military barracks—fantastical structures absent in Danafor—drew my curious gaze.
Then, I recalled with particular clarity the transcendental moment when I first looked up at the sky.
—Sun… Sun! —I had shouted excitedly at the enormous orange-yellow sphere of fire majestically suspended in the infinite sky.
My eyes, accustomed to the perpetual and inescapable gloom of the underground refuge, filled involuntarily with salty tears. The immense blue of the sky left me breathless, triggering an emotional reaction I couldn't rationally control. "Had the sky always been so sublime?" I wondered. Though my eyes stung and tears fell uncontrollably, I couldn't tear my fascinated gaze away. I remained absorbed, my soul suspended in a state of pure mystical contemplation as an unparalleled peace flooded every corner of my conscious being.
The air I breathed was pure and revitalizing, a regenerative breath of life that contrasted with Danafor's stale atmosphere. Each deep inhalation filled my lungs with an unfamiliar energy, as if the sky itself were embracing me, soothing all the invisible but painful wounds I had accumulated during my short but traumatic existence.
For the first time in my conscious life, I grasped the overwhelming immensity of the outside world. The infinite blue of the sky, dotted with clouds like white brushstrokes from a divine cosmic artist, made me feel my insignificance on a scale I had never contemplated before. The clouds floated as if performing a slow ballet choreographed by invisible air currents, and I felt hypnotized by their structural beauty.
Over time, I explored the city until, finally, I could behold the clear sky that began to turn golden as the sun sank into the distant horizon, like a shining coin dipping into a sea of perfect contemplative stillness.
I shook my head to push those sentimental memories from my mind. This wasn't the time for emotional distractions. There were more urgent matters demanding my immediate attention.
—Stop! —a feminine voice shouted, abruptly interrupting the flow of my strategic reflections.
I looked up and saw an exquisitely crafted and ornately decorated carriage come to a sudden halt in front of my position.
—Does that boy have nowhere to stay tonight? —asked a young woman of aristocratic appearance from the carved window of the luxurious carriage, examining me with evident curiosity as I remained seated on the cobblestone—. How unfortunate.
I chose not to make direct eye contact and decided to remain completely silent to assess the situation before formulating any response.
—Again, my Lady?! —exclaimed one of the guards, exasperated, who had nimbly dismounted from the carriage to confirm the young noblewoman's specific orders.
From his particular tone and defensive body language, I deduced that this type of scenario was not new to his professional experience.
—What choice do I have? It's my nature —she replied with an inflection that conveyed a calculated mix of feigned resignation and genuine satisfaction.
I listened as the woman elegantly descended from the carriage with the courteous assistance of her personal guard. Then, I audibly registered the hurried steps approaching my position with a light and determined rhythm.
—Hmm? —I opened my eyes with feigned surprise and looked up, feeling her scrutiny upon me.
—Are you new to this area? —she asked with a melodious voice that tried to mask her evident investigative curiosity.
—Uh? Yes, that's right.
The young woman didn't appear to be older than fifteen. She was tall, with long, wavy blonde hair that fell elegantly over her shoulders, crowned by a delicate light blue accessory. Her blue eyes sparkled with notable intelligence and genuine curiosity. She wore a long-sleeved white blouse adorned with a blue bow at the neck, over which she sported an elegant sleeveless white dress, harmoniously complemented by a black corset and decorative blue ruffles. Her fine white leather boots completed the ensemble, projecting an impeccable aesthetic that betrayed the involvement of the kingdom's finest designers.
—If you have nowhere to stay tonight… would you like to come to my residence? —she proposed, leaning slightly forward, observing me with those large, expressive eyes.
Her sweet voice and benevolent expression caused a momentary hesitation in me that altered my usually stable and controlled pulse.
—I don't have any money —I replied, employing an initial resistance tactic to gauge her true hidden intentions.
—You wouldn't be sleeping here if you did —she countered with impeccable logic, delicately holding the folds of her dress with both hands to shield it from the night breeze.
—My Lady Daphne can't abandon people in need —I heard one of the guards escorting the young aristocrat explain.
The man wore an impeccable black-and-white checkered uniform and a regulation cap, confirming my earlier suspicion: they remained constantly close to ensure her absolute protection. With neatly trimmed black sideburns and intense green pupils, he possessed a conventional attractiveness and exuded the sensitive temperament characteristic of a romantic poet.
—You should gratefully accept her kindness —advised the second guard, armed with a sizable revolver and positioned two meters from the first.
Despite his reasonable suggestion, I remained motionless on the pavement; the opportune moment to agree hadn't yet arrived. This second protector had a rougher and more menacing appearance: a robust build, features marked by scars from past battles, and a cold gaze that clearly anticipated his brutal and direct nature. Likely, only someone with those characteristics could effectively intimidate drunks, thieves, pickpockets, villains, and various vandals.
The exclusive world of the nobles was different from the rest of society. Oppression was common, even among children, and their lack of maturity to conceal it caused significant problems. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that a single word from Daphne could turn anyone's life into absolute hell, with no realistic chance of retribution.
—What do you decide to do? —Daphne asked with a warm smile, placing her hands behind her back in a gesture of innocent expectation.
—…Well, it's better than sleeping on the street —I conceded finally, scratching my head while averting my gaze in an apparently embarrassed gesture.
—Then it's all settled —she declared with evident satisfaction.
Daphne's melodious voice and radiant expression, which shone like a polished gem under sunlight, sparked in me an unusual nervousness I rarely experienced in conventional social interactions. Everything was unfolding exactly as Mica had predicted.