It was a wide valley, surrounded on all sides by towering mountains that rose in dozens. A broad river wound its way through the valley and flowed into a massive lake that shimmered in the center. Built around the shores of that lake was a radiant city glowing with countless lights, spreading upward until even the lower slopes of the nearby mountains glittered with brilliance.
“This is the Golden Wheat Valley, and that city is Sicily,” Aaron said with excitement. “This place was once the main domain of the Goddess of Harvest.”
“How many years has it been…” Acher murmured to himself, almost lost in thought.
Aaron went on, eager to share what he knew. “Every year, before the Serenity event, they hold the Moonlight Festival to celebrate the Great Peace. It’s also the biggest supernatural festival in the world. Tons of tourists come here around this time. I heard that last year, there were hundreds of thousands of visitors.”
The Orion Express screeched to a halt inside a vast underground station.
There were no stone walls. Instead, enormous tree veins and thick wooden structures intertwined to form the station, their aged surfaces smoothed and strengthened by magic. Some of these living supports rose straight up like pillars, while others bent into wide arches overhead, shaping a hall that felt natural yet designed. Lines of soft golden light flowed along the bark, illuminating etched symbols and gentle patterns that glimmered with each breath, giving the strange impression that the station itself was alive.
From the central platform, multiple passageways extended outward, their walls shaped from layered wood and ancient growth. Each route curved or sloped in a different direction, leading either deeper underground or toward distant districts of the city.
Above every path hung clear wooden signboards set with leaf-crystal, their glowing letters easy to read at a glance. One led north toward the Upper Canopy District and the airship platforms high above the city. Another guided travelers southeast, in the direction of Lake Nerardeusis and the bustling market quarter along its shores. Another route led south toward Golden Wheat Plaza and the Temple of Therompós, while a broader, downward-sloping passage marked the way to the residential underground district.
Along the sides of the station, stairways had been carved into the living walls, winding upward through wide shafts where daylight filtered down from above. Warm air drifted along these passages, carrying the faint scent of soil and fresh leaves, a quiet reminder that Sicily was not built on top of the underground; it had grown from it.
After packing up their luggage, the group stepped down from their carriage. Before leaving, Aaron even made sure to close the door behind him. He flashed a big grin as he saw the four knights standing guard out in the corridor, all of them still completely oblivious under the Veil of Lies cast upon them.
A little while later…
“Hey, Emesto, looks like they won't get off here,” one of the knights muttered, seeing that the Orion Express had already started rolling again while that particular compartment door remained shut.
“Lord Velgryth made it clear that we have to catch them no matter what. You go buy a ticket to the next station. Let’s see how long they can hide in there,” Mike sneered.
None of them dared storm into the compartment. Doing that would cause the train staff to throw them out in seconds, and they could even be arrested for disturbing public peace.
All they could do now was wait until whoever was inside got off, and then follow from behind. Aaron threw his head back and laughed out loud as he watched the Orion Express shrink into the distance.
“Bunch of idiots!”
He and Luther were already standing at the underground station. Aaron carried Squashy in his arms, while Luther held Jack-O and Pompo, not wanting the little demons to run wild in such a crowded place.
“Don’t wander off. Be careful, or you’ll get lost. Or get kidnapped,” Luther warned, pressing Jack-O’s head down as he spoke.
Both of them noticed many familiar passengers disembarking: the spectral music band, the groups of dwarves, the villagers from Snowfur, the students from the magical academy, and there were also many other unfamiliar travelers as well.
“They must have boarded earlier than we did,” Aaron said in wonder, staring at a large family walking past. They had bodies much like humans, but their heads were those of eagles with broad wings folded behind their backs.
The group stepped onto a moving wooden stairway that carried them upward. As they ascended, the air grew warmer and brighter, rich with the scent of leaves and blooming flowers. Moments later, they emerged from the base of a colossal ancient tree, its vast trunk rising like a living pillar while thick roots spread outward, merging with the surrounding streets and buildings.
Before them stretched a lively city, glowing with countless lights. Buildings were constructed everywhere: beside, within, and even upon the branches of elder trees, their walls grown from living wood or shaped to follow the curves of ancient bark. Balconies wrapped around massive trunks, windows opened from hollows in the trees, and bridges of braided vines connected one structure to another.
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The streets here were lit not only by ordinary lights, but also by clusters of glowing mistletoe flowers and giant fireflies drifting lazily through the air, their golden light pulsing like slow heartbeats.
“God, this place is unreal!” Aaron said, already pulling out his phone. He slowly spun in a circle, snapping photos as fast as he could. “Look at that tree, and that one too! Are those houses inside the trunk? This is way better than the pictures online.”
High above, vine roads and suspended walkways crossed the open air, crowded with pedestrians moving between platforms and towers grown from wood and bark. Below, the wide streets bustled with movement as carriages, enchanted vehicles, and riding beasts flowed past in steady streams, guided by subtle magic and natural barriers of roots and hedges. Voices overlapped with laughter and music, blending into a constant hum.
Luther’s eyes lit up, moving from one tree to the next, drawn to the fruit-laden branches lining the streets, trees heavy with honey oranges, pale bananas, crystal plums, and all kinds of unfamiliar fruits.
“So much fruit,” he murmured, while the pumpkins were already drooling at the sight.
Aaron laughed and ruffled his head. “I knew you’d love this place. Don’t worry, we’re trying everything!”
“Our hotel’s in the Red Spring Carrot District. Let me check the way there,” he said, checking the map. “It’s just a little more than ten miles from here. Let’s fly over.”
“Alright.”
But just as Luther finished chanting his flight spell, a circle of golden light appeared around them, and his magic was cut off midway.
From two buildings away, a tall woman with a horse's lower half approached, raising her voice:
“Hey, you two! Flying is forbidden here!”
The scene drew the attention of passersby, who paused to watch and whispered among themselves. The centaur woman wore a security uniform marked with the emblem of a golden wheat sheaf across her chest.
“First time here, kids?” she asked, her tone more curious than harsh.
Both boys nodded at once. The way so many people around them were staring made their shoulders tense, and it was difficult not to feel uneasy.
“What are they even looking at us for?” Aaron whispered under his breath.
Luther shook his head, showing he had no idea either.
“You fools,” Acher scolded them. “Even if no one realizes you’re pretending to be apprentice mages, you forgot one detail. Only adept-rank mages can learn the flying spell.”
“Oh crap, I completely forgot about that.” Aaron slapped a hand over his face in dismay.
“Me too…” Luther muttered, his voice low.
The centaur woman cleared her throat and addressed them again:
“The entire Golden Wheat Valley has a ban on flying spells. You two should be careful not to break the rule again, or else you’ll be fined.”
Aaron scratched the back of his head before replying:
“We’re sorry, ma’am. Honestly, we didn’t know about that.”
“It’s alright,” she said, her expression softening a little. “Where are you heading? In Sicily, there’s a wide network of public airships, but you can also call for a taxi or a carriage if that’s easier.”
“We are going to the Red Spring Carrot District, ma’am,” Aaron explained. “Would you mind showing us how to catch an airship, or maybe how to call for a taxi or carriage?”
“To ride the ships, you’ll have to head over to the station right there,” she said, raising her arm and pointing toward an enormous banyan tree that stood at the far corner of the street. “Wait for line twelve. As for taxis or carriages, you just need to stand here by the curb and wave at the ones with the blinking leaf icon, which means they’re passenger-free, and they will stop for you.”
“Thank you so much, ma’am!” Aaron said, bowing his head a little. Then he turned to Luther with a grin. “So, which kind do you want to take?”
“Doesn’t matter. You decide,” Luther replied.
“Then let’s take the airship!” Aaron beamed.
“This is amazing,” he gasped in amazement as they arrived at the airship station.
It was a wooden structure built right between the branches of an elder banyan tree. Its trunk was so thick that it would take thirty or forty people holding hands to wrap all the way around. A winding staircase grew upward along the tree’s body, leading to the station above.
“Squeak!” The pumpkins leapt from Luther’s arms and scampered up the steps.
The inside of the station was large enough for several dozen people to sit and wait at ease. A few travelers were already there: two magnolia hedgehogs, a rabbit-eared beastkin family, and a frail old woman bent with age.
“This is amazing,” Aaron said while running his hand along a long bench that had grown out of the wall. “It’s wood, but it feels as soft as a cushioned sofa.”
“Plant-based architecture is one of the special features of Sicily,” Acher explained from Luther’s shoulder. “After all, the people here are descendants of the plant pantheon.”
Aaron glanced at Luther. “Are you tired? Feeling sleepy yet?”
Luther shook his head.
“Not yet. This is fun,” he replied.
“So you do love playing around,” Aaron teased.
Luther let out soft chuckles. He didn’t bother denying it, just reached out and held onto Aaron’s sleeve.
A little over five minutes later, a vessel drifted toward them at a slow and steady pace. It was an airship made entirely of wood, its surface covered in blooming red flowers. When it docked beside the station, a section of its side opened, forming a doorway.
“Let’s go!” Aaron cheered.
Even without his encouragement, the three pumpkins had already hopped inside in a blur of motion.
The airship lifted away from the platform and carried them out over the city, gliding above the busy streets below. It drifted past tree houses built on the branches, balconies, and windows, passing close enough to touch. At times, the vessel slipped between elevated vine roads and hanging walkways, sharing the air with pedestrians moving overhead.
The group leaned toward the windows, watching the city unfold beneath them, layers of branches, bridges, and glowing paths weaving together in every direction. From above, Sicily felt less like a city and more like a living forest in motion, its lights and voices rising gently through the air as the airship sailed onward.
“I already planned everything out. Tomorrow morning, we’ll have breakfast at Mocking Pine, then head to Therompós Temple. After lunch, we’ll go to Ichthyogela Falls. And in the evening, we’ll eat at the Harvest of the East night market.” Aaron practically beamed as he spoke.
“You’re really good at planning,” Luther said.
“Of course! Traveling’s much more fun if you plan it and make a proper schedule. And this trip feels extra special, besides getting to visit such a magical place, it’s also the first time I’ve ever handled everything myself!”
