By the time the sun burned through the haze, the brothers had been walking for half a day.
The grasslands behind them stretched empty and flat, nothing but wind and light. Ahead, a dirt road cut through the plains toward a cluster of rising towers, faintly shimmering beneath the heat.
Adrian slowed his steps. "That's a city."
Lucien squinted. "Smoke. And walls."
Kael shifted the strap of his pack higher on his shoulder. "Finally."
The closer they got, the more the signs of life appeared—cart tracks, hoofprints, bits of broken wagon wheels. Farmers passed them with sacks of grain, guards on horseback, peddlers pulling carts of rough tools. The air changed too; it smelled of metal and smoke instead of wild grass.
At a bend in the road, a small checkpoint came into view. A wooden outpost with two guards stood before a half-lowered barrier. Both men wore steel half-plates engraved with faintly glowing runes. The light pulsed in a steady rhythm, like breath.
The older guard raised a hand. "Travelers?"
Adrian nodded. "From the outer plains."
The man frowned. "Outer plains? That's dead territory."
Lucien answered smoothly. "We made it out."
The guard studied them for a long moment, eyes flicking from their clean but plain clothes to the unmarked metal tags around their necks—empty, unregistered. Then he sighed and motioned toward the horizon. "Ardent Gate's a few hours ahead. Stay on the main road. Keep your hands where people can see them."
"Understood," Adrian said.
They passed through without trouble.
By the time the city came fully into view, the sun hung low, its orange light catching on the runes carved into the walls. Ardent Gate rose from the plains like a fortress city—tall ramparts of dark stone, the outer walls alive with faint blue energy that rippled between embedded crystals. Above the main gate was a crest: two swords crossed behind a burning sun.
Two guards in rune-trimmed armor stood before the open gate. The runes glowed softly with every breath they took.
"State your business," one called out.
Adrian answered, calm. "We're travelers. Seeking entry."
The guard's eyes narrowed. "From where?"
Lucien's tone was even. "Beyond the Ridge."
"There are no settlements past the Ridge," the other guard said, disbelief edging into his voice.
Kael crossed his arms. "Then we're the first."
The guards exchanged a look, then finally waved them through. "You'll need to register at the Guild Hall in the east district. Don't cause trouble."
Inside the walls, the noise hit them first—voices, wheels, hammers. The air was thick with the smell of bread, ash, and livestock. Horses pulled carriages along cobbled streets. Shops lined the narrow lanes, banners hanging from iron hooks. Faint blue light flickered from runic lamps overhead, powered by energy stones fixed in iron sockets.
Lucien turned slowly, scanning every detail. "Feels medieval."
Kael grunted. "With magic running the plumbing."
Adrian said nothing. His eyes tracked the people instead—their movements, their clothes, the faint glow of marks beneath the skin of their wrists.
Lucien noticed it too. "Those runes—they all have them."
"Identification, maybe," Adrian said quietly. "Or rank."
Kael looked toward a patrol of guards crossing an intersection. "Whatever it is, it keeps order."
They followed a broad street that led to a central plaza. In the middle stood a tall pillar engraved with glowing runes, surrounded by stalls. Merchants sold everything from food to weapons. Children ran barefoot between wagons. A smith's hammer rang in steady rhythm from somewhere down the lane.
"Ardent Gate," Lucien murmured. "A living city."
Adrian's eyes drifted to a large building beyond the square—a structure of grey stone and carved sigils, banners hanging from its balcony. "Guild Hall," he said. "Let's move."
The Guild Hall's main floor was crowded. Adventurers, mercenaries, and traders filled the space, talking loudly over the hum of rune lamps. A clerk behind a long counter waved them forward without looking up.
"Registration?"
Adrian nodded.
The man slid three thin metal plates across the desk, each one etched with faint runes. "Basic tags. They'll imprint once your Veins awaken. Until then, you'll need work to stay inside city limits."
Lucien raised a brow. "What kind of work?"
"Anything that pays in coin." The clerk gestured to a board on the wall.
A chart was nailed to it, the writing clean and sharp:
1 Gold Coin = 100 Silver Coins
1 Silver Coin = 100 Bronze Coins
"Bronze keeps you fed," the clerk said flatly. "Silver keeps you alive. Gold gets you noticed."
Kael asked, "And how do we get any of it?"
"Start at the bottom." The clerk tapped the lower section of the board, where smaller notices were pinned. "Courier runs. Guard shifts. Menial labor. Or talk to merchants in the square. Most don't care who you are if you work cheap."
Adrian took one of the metal tags and examined the runes. "Guess we start from zero again."
"Everyone does," the clerk replied. "Try not to die before you reach silver."
They stepped back into the sunlight. The city had grown busier—more carriages, more noise. Runes along the walls shimmered as the light began to fade.
Adrian turned to the others. "We split up. Cover more ground. Meet back here before sundown."
Lucien nodded immediately. "I'll check the markets—see what trades run on coin and what runs on favors."
Kael adjusted his coat. "I'll take the guard districts. See what kind of control they keep."
Adrian gave a brief nod. "Don't draw attention."
They separated.
Lucien moved through the market lanes, his pace calm but deliberate. He watched how people bartered—how merchants held up bronze and silver coins like proof of worth. The coins shimmered faintly under the light, their surfaces engraved with the crest of the city.
At a food stall, he stopped to buy a small loaf of bread. "How much?"
"Two bronze," the woman said.
Lucien handed over three. "Keep the change."
She blinked, surprised by the gesture. "Not from around here, are you?"
"No," he said. "But I learn fast."
He watched as she slipped the coins into a small rune-marked pouch. The runes flared briefly before dimming again—tracking, perhaps, or protection from theft.
He moved on, noting how traders used crystals to power weighing scales, how message couriers carried rune-marked scrolls sealed with faint blue wax. Everything in this city ran on controlled energy—measured, directed, stored.
Kael, meanwhile, took the narrow backstreets near the barracks. The smell of oil and iron was stronger here. Guards drilled in the open courtyard, their armor alive with slow, glowing symbols. He noticed that each carried a spear marked with the same runes on the wall. When the captain barked a command, the runes along the weapons brightened in sync—linked by command.
He passed by a group of recruits cleaning armor and stopped one. "What's with the glowing marks?"
The young man looked up, confused. "You mean the runes? They're synced to our captain's Vein pattern. Helps coordination during patrol."
Kael nodded as if he understood completely. "Efficient."
"Yeah," the recruit said proudly. "No unmarked soldier gets to wear rune-trimmed steel."
Kael thanked him and left. He'd seen enough. This city ran on structure, hierarchy, and power—every spark of energy chained to a system.
They regrouped at the Guild Hall just before dusk.
Lucien handed Adrian a folded parchment. "Market rates. Food, lodging, energy stones, weapons. Bronze is barely worth breathing."
Kael leaned against the wall. "The guards run rune-linked networks. This place doesn't just use magic—it controls it."
Adrian listened quietly, then looked between them. "Good. We'll use that."
He turned to the job board beside the Hall and pulled down a small notice:
Courier Needed — Energy Stones from East Gate to Market Quarter. Pay: 10 Bronze.
Kael smirked. "We're starting small."
"Everyone does," Adrian said.
They made the run in under an hour—hauling a crate of dull, uncharged stones from a storehouse to a vendor near the central square. The stones were heavy but harmless, humming faintly with weak energy. The merchant paid them ten bronze coins on the spot.
Adrian turned one coin over in his hand. It was light but solid, a faint blue shimmer caught in its surface.
Lucien pocketed the rest. "Enough for food, maybe a place to sleep."
Kael looked at the crowded streets. "And tomorrow?"
Adrian's voice was steady. "We look for something better paid."
By nightfall, they found a small inn near the west wall—wooden beams, a dim fire, rooms rented by the night. The innkeeper, a middle-aged man with a lazy smile, accepted eight bronze coins for a single room.
Lucien counted what they had left. "Two bronze."
Kael gave a short laugh. "And here I was hoping for gold."
Adrian set his pack down and sat by the window. Outside, the city glowed faintly blue, the runes along the walls breathing with light. Somewhere far off, a bell tolled three times, deep and low.
For a long moment, none of them spoke. The room smelled of wood smoke and iron.
Lucien finally said, "We made it through the first day."
Adrian nodded. "And we learned enough to survive the next."
Kael stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head. "For now, that's enough."
Adrian's gaze lingered on the faint glow outside. The runes pulsed like veins across the city's walls—steady, alive, waiting.
"Tomorrow," he said quietly, "we start learning how this world really works."