The morning air in the capital was a crisp, biting reminder of the North's dominance, but the thousands gathered in the main city square provided a collective warmth that hummed like a living engine.
From the high platform erected at the square's center, the view was a sea of fur-lined hoods, wool caps, and expectant faces. Banners of Nevareth, the silver dragon on a field of ice blue, snapped violently in the wind, intermingled for the first time with the sun-gold streamers of the Southern alliance.
The stage was a masterclass in Northern craftsmanship. Massive ice sculptures of prowling wolves and soaring hawks flanked the stairs, their translucent surfaces refracting the pale winter sun into jagged rainbows. At the center stood the principals of the empire.
