Far across the Northern Sea, beyond waters that never truly rested, stood the kingdom of Vaeloria.
From high above, the land looked like a dream carved from marble and light. Vast cities stretched across white stone foundations, their streets aligned in perfect geometric patterns. Every wall shimmered faintly with runic arrays carved so precisely that they glowed even under daylight. Mana currents flowed visibly through the air like drifting auroras, weaving between towers and across bridges that hung unsupported between spires.
The air itself felt alive.
Great pillars of crystal rose from plazas and channeled energy into the sky. Arcane symbols rotated slowly around them, each line of script pulsing with measured rhythm. Platforms floated between buildings, held aloft by levitation circles etched into their undersides. Mages traveled between districts without ever touching the ground, their robes trailing behind them as controlled mana fields carried them forward.
