Gray is not an unfamiliar color to Mira.

  Far as the eye could see, Mira saw her own reflection. In the place where she now stood, Mira felt neither unfamiliar nor exactly known either. The ground or perhaps the floor reflected the sky moving steadily. Dark gray, unblemished, not even by a single white cloud.

  Or perhaps it wasn’t ground and sky? Maybe it was a giant mirror with no top or bottom; everything looked the same.

  Mira took a deep breath. No piercing cold, no scorching heat. The air felt empty and hollow. Very calm.

  Suddenly. The air seemed to open, as if split by the swing of a giant sword.

  A gust of wind rushed toward Mira, hitting her and pushing her slightly.

  “Re:Kala Kaosser.”

  The voice echoed throughout the area. Unlike the last dream, where the sound seemed like a hum, now it sounded like calmness, gently brushing over every part of Mira’s body with courtesy. Mira was not surprised. No, she knew this was only a dream.

  “What do you want?” Mira tried to steady herself. She must not hesitate. She must not be afraid.

  "When the Horizon folds like parchment, and the Rust returns to iron. The Stranger shall arrive. They walk the path that has no distance, and dwell in the moment that never ends. To them, the miles are but a thought, and the centuries but a single blink. The weaver of the Gap. The anchor of the Flow. The Here is There. The Then is Now."

  “What the fuck do you mean?” Mira said. Every word is like the crashing of the waves, eroding one by one the beach sand until there is no longer any left. Mira felt every organ of her body slowly detach as the voice said word for word.

  But it was not the pain that Mira felt. But it is "enjoyment."

  “When the Chaos spills and the Void screams, The Silent Pillar shall rise. It stands as the Anchor in the drifting tide, the weight that holds the world from breaking apart. In its shadow, the trembling earth finds its rest.

  And the Weaver shall follow. They hold the Golden Thread that mends the severed sky. Not to command, but to connect. Turning the many fragments into a single mosaic. Where there is discord, they bring the Chorus.”

  Mira stared blankly at the emptiness in front of her. She didn’t understand. Not a single word made sense to her.

  Mira forcibly pulled together every organ that had 'detached,' reassembling them to form a complete Mira again.

  Mira raised her right hand, moved each of her fingers, and examined them closely. She had control over herself here.

  "The Eight Stars in the World’s Sky. The Eight Places in Caelum Dominatium. When the Blue Moon arrives. Reach the Peak of the World and bring the eight stars. They must–."

  Mira groaned. She felt a pain as if she had been struck by a sledgehammer. It wasn't the usual muscle ache after running around the city, but a sensation as if every inch of bone in her body had been ground into fine powder, then forced to stick back together with hot, stinging glue.

  Mira tried to move her pinky finger—a fatal mistake.

  A sharp pain shot from the base of her finger to the tip of her head, making Mira jerk and let out a stifled groan. Her eyes forcibly opened, wet with tears from reflex.

  The blazing midday sunlight pierced mercilessly through the wide-open window. The smell of frozen fish, spices she didn't recognize, and faint river waste assaulted her nose.

  "Five days,” a flat yet calm voice broke Mira's groan. “A new record. I bet you’ll only wake up the day after tomorrow.”

  Mira rolled her eyes toward the source of the voice.

  Kars was sitting in the corner of the room. The man had already changed clothes. No longer a gray robe, but a navy silk tunic that looked expensive, his sleeves neatly rolled up to the elbows. In his hand, he was twirling a fresh-looking red apple.

  Mira didn’t look at Kars. Her gaze was fixed on the view outside the window next to him.

  From her lying position, Mira could catch a glimpse of what was out there. A bright blue sky, and in the distance, a massive white stone structure with a dazzling pink crystal dome towering above.

  “Where…” Mira’s voice sounded soft and hoarse, like the scraping of sandpaper. She coughed dryly. “Where are we?”

  “Everiven,” Kars replied, followed by a crisp sound as he bit into an apple. “The capital of the Asnaven Kingdom.”

  Kars finally turned toward Mira. The man’s eyes scanned Mira’s body, wrapped in thick bandages. It wasn’t a look of pity, but the gaze of someone calculating every damage present.

  “You’re lucky. Almost all the wounds you got before V’nyr left have healed; that bird really healed you. But the wounds after I put V’nyr to sleep again…” Kars stared into Mira’s eyes, their eyes meeting. “Are still there. Your Intian path is scorched because it couldn’t withstand V’nyr’s Intian explosion. But at least you didn’t explode into a meat firework in the middle of the sea.”

  “The… White… Swan?” Mira tried to force herself to speak, but her voice seemed stuck in her throat.

  Kars stood up from his seat. He picked up the nearest glass and handed it to Mira. “I left them on the beach. At least some of them survived. Maybe.”

  Mira felt horror coursing through her body. She couldn’t imagine the crew dying because of King Winter Worm’s attack, but because they had to use Singus. Whether their bodies were torn apart in the sea, vanished into dust in the void, or burned to a crisp on the beach. Mira could only hope they were okay.

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  Mira gulped down the water Kars gave her. She could feel extreme pain in her throat. “Why… why did you bring us here? Aren’t we supposed to go to Vesthralia? Why didn’t we just land there directly with Singus?”

  "And the Golden Angels Order will find us immediately." Kars dragged a chair from the corner of the room to get closer to where Mira was lying, then he sat there. "I landed us far, far from this city to manipulate and confuse them. It proved effective—they haven't found us in the past 5 days. But we can't stay here for long."

  "Why are you so sure they'll be looking for us?"

  "Because I used two Singus in one night. Chances are, they've already interrogated the crew at the beach." Kars' voice was flat, completely expressionless.

  "How do we get to Vesthralia?" Mira asked, trying to convince herself that they would be okay.

  "There will be a tournament every five years that will be held there soon."

  “The Second Domain?” Mira furrowed her brow; she knew that tournament. It was the tournament she was supposed to participate in with her academy at that time, if that attack hadn’t happened.

  Kars nodded, though he felt annoyed that Mira interrupted him.

  “How?” Mira continued, confused.

  “Listen to me first.” Kars sighed and prepared to continue speaking. “We’re going to participate in that tournament. We’ll join the Veinara Academy from Everiven. I have an insider who can get us in.”

  Kars paused his explanation as Mira looked like she wanted to speak, but the woman pulled back and decided to stay silent.

  "You will become one of the noble princesses of this city. You will represent that family name. It's not difficult considering your history as a noble princess, right?"

  "History?" Mira frowned. "I am still a noble princess. Besides, why are they looking for a representative? Doesn't that family have a princess or a prince?"

  "Let them explain that."

  "What do you mean?"

  "We will see them. Now get up. This room is expensive, and I don't plan to spend my money just to feed a cripple."

  Mira gritted her teeth, holding back the urge to retort and curse that was stuck in her throat. She forced her elbows to support her body, ignoring the screaming protests from every organ and muscle fiber.

  ***

  The first step after leaving the inn felt like a victory, but was also saddening.

  Mira clutched the door frame, her knuckles white, while her legs, still feeling like jelly, were forced to step on the uneven, rocky street. With each step she took, the vibrations she felt throughout her body grew more painful.

  Mira took a deep breath, and in that instant, she was overwhelmed by various smells.

  The air here assaulted Mira's nose aggressively. There was the smell of fish that had been drying for a long time, passing horse manure, unique spices, some of which Mira did not recognize, and the faint scent of a gutter. Yet, all of it seemed to be masked by the scent of perfumes from people passing by. Lavender, rose, citrus, orange, oud, vanilla, and more mingled together, making Mira’s head spin.

  A very luxurious-looking horse-drawn carriage with an open-top style and a folding canvas roof waited in front of Mira. The driver, an old man wearing a leather hat, glanced at the bandage peeking from beneath Mira's tunic collar with a bored look.

  “Get in before you faint and embarrass me,” Kars said from behind.

  Mira dragged herself up. As she dropped onto the hard seat cushion, she let out a soft hiss. Kars jumped up lightly beside her, sitting casually with one leg crossed over his knee, as if he were sitting on a throne.

  “To the Crystal Heights District,” Kars ordered the driver as a formality. The driver actually already knew where they were going since he had been sent to pick up the two from this commoners' district. “And try not to run into too many commoners. My friend here is in a sensitive state.”

  The whip cracked. The wooden wheels creaked. And finally, they moved, plunging into the density of Everiven.

  The main street of this city was the definition of organized chaos. On their left and right, three- to four-story buildings loomed, their dull white stone walls crowded with open wooden windows. Clotheslines stretched between the buildings across the street like flags of poverty, waving in various colors.

  The traffic was no less brutal.

  Their carriage stalled every ten meters. Ahead, a cattle cart loaded with Ale barrels had locked wheels with a polished silver private carriage.

  “Move aside, you cow dung!” shouted the driver of the luxury carriage, his face flushed red. “This is a public road, Mr. Powder!” retorted the barrel merchant, unwilling to back down, while his ox longed indifferently.

  Amid the traffic jam, pedestrians weaved through with high courage. Little children ran barefoot under the bellies of fruit vendors' horses to snatch fallen apples. At the same time, other pedestrians spilled onto the sidewalks and streets, making it almost impossible to see an empty road.

  “Crowded,” Mira murmured, trying to distract herself from the pain in her back. “Not like in my hometown.”

  “This is the busiest city in the north, that’s normal,” Kars replied, his eyes sharply scanning the crowd, checking them out of habit. “Money never sleeps in Everiven.”

  Their carriage made a sharp turn, avoiding a pile of spilled straw, and suddenly the view opened up. They had reached the riverbank.

  Sarpant River. The traffic there is no less heavy.

  From her position on the carriage, Mira could see the turquoise water surface almost covered by a layer of wood. Hundreds of small canoes go back and forth like aquatic insects, carrying everything from fresh vegetables to crates covered with tarpaulins.

  The larger barges, with dirty square sails, moved slowly in the middle lane, propelled by the currents and long oars propelled by half-naked slaves.

  In the distance, in the middle of the river that split the city, the Stone Palace island stood proudly. Its dazzling white walls seemed to mock the chaos below. The giant stone bridge connecting the lower district to the island was crowded with tiny black figures of people, looking like lines of ants carrying offerings for their queen.

  However, the carriage Mira rode did not venture into that crowd. They headed toward a smaller bridge on the west side. That bridge was quieter, making the white marble stones look exceptionally clean, with no single stain.

  They crossed the marble bridge. The coachman showed the gate guard a travel permit, and without any hindrance, they continued on their way.

  The world across the bridge is a different world. Crystal Heights District is not crowded. Its streets are wide, lined with trees whose leaves shimmer a metallic green. The houses here are not crammed together. They stand alone behind iron fences, each with a neatly trimmed lawn.

  There are no clotheslines. No shouting vendors. Only covered carriages with velvet curtains move slowly by.

  "It's time for you to return to being a noble princess," Kars whispered, reminding Mira, who had been observing the entire area.

  "It's different from the noble complexes in the south," Mira replied in an equally low voice.

  "Of course it's different. The Asnaven Kingdom is the richest in the world," Kars explained.

  Amid the monochromatic skyline of Crystal Heights, the house they were heading to boldly stood out. Its main walls were made of milky white marble, yet every detail of its ornaments, from window frames to porch pillars and even the small dome roof, was crafted from light blue crystalline material.

  The iron gate, adorned with star constellation motifs, opened as the carriage approached, with two guards standing on either side to welcome their guest.

  The horse-drawn carriage stopped right in front of the grand entrance stairs. Kars stepped down first, then extended his hand with a courtesy that surprised Mira. That man tries to help Mira descend.

  Mira took that hand, feeling Kars’ cold skin; it seemed the man was no longer wearing his gloves. She stood in front of the massive double doors painted light blue. The carvings on the doors were not dragons, lions, monsters, or other legendary creatures, but rather intricate geometric diagrams that looked like star maps.

  “They are an Architect. An Artificer. The second noble in this kingdom. So behave like a noble princess would,” Kars repeated as the doors slowly began to open.

  “They?”

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