Rose’s eyes widened as the boulevard they were walking on opened out into a large market square. The wide boulevard continued on for a few hundred metres into the distance, curving around the market. She followed the royal guard captain the King had assigned to them – Captain Godfrey - as he led the way. Elliott – with Elsie at his waist – and Isabel walked ahead of her, both wearing the same outfits as they had at breakfast. Korin was beside her, his leather pack on his back, hands holding the straps in front. Lyla had stayed behind, asking to get some sleep while she could. She had money and inventory back at her base in Tarnov and was certain the place would remain undisturbed. Nobody would dare to raid a Shadow base.

  Even this early in the morning, the square was a hubbub of activity. Stalls of every kind had been set up in the wide square, supported on wooden sticks with awnings in various colours or patterns. Traders and merchants of all sorts gathered in different quarters of the square, as crowds wove between the stalls. Mostly human, but not all.

  Two women brushed past her with smooth porcelain skin and ageless features, and as they walked towards the stalls, she couldn’t help but notice the tips of elongated ears peeking out from between the strands of beautiful golden hair that hung below their waists.

  Among the stalls, seamstresses vied with tailors, as fabric sellers stroked the textiles hanging from their stalls, shouting to passers-by that their material was the finest in all of Aldren. Cobblers hammered at boot soles beside leatherworkers stitching small bags. Beyond them, jewellers wore the gleaming bracelets and gems they were selling with claims that whoever bought them was sure to make their husband happy. And if they didn’t have a husband, they’d find one soon enough – with the right pair of earrings, of course.

  Next to the jewellers, she recognised dwarven metalworkers – stout and stocky like Korin – offering various pieces of armour and weapons. Nearby, she saw a small creature, half as tall as the dwarves with pale skin that was almost pink, wearing goggles entirely too big for its head. The stall behind it featured…well, contraptions was the only thing she could think. She had no idea what the gadgets were for though she could hear gears clicking and steam hissing from tubes, and peculiar devices that caused her to frown. She would have liked the opportunity to have a gander but perhaps she’d get the opportunity later.

  “A gnome,” Korin said. She glanced at the dwarf. Maybe she’d been staring too long. “Good engineers, though their inventions are rarely practical.”

  From another corner, the aroma of freshly baked breads and pastries wafted towards her. Opposite the bakers, cooks stood over meaty broths, steam rising into the chill morning air. Near the food stalls, she noticed the small figures of children in tattered clothing with dirt-streaked faces, somehow maintaining smiles and pleased eyes as if the smells alone were enough for their starved stomachs. One of the bakers took some pity on them, tossing a fresh loaf of bread, as a cook served them a dollop of the meaty broth. The children squealed with delight as they sat in a circle on the paved floor, passing the bread among them and dipping it into the broth.

  She could see why Isabel had a desire to help these people. A part of her hated that it wasn’t the first thought on her mind. She’d grown up privileged. She’d never thought it could be her place to make sure others were looked after, but seeing those kids, she wondered whether that was right. She’d never thought about people like this before. Poor people. She quietly shuddered to herself. She’d never thought she had to think about people like this or should think about people like this. They’d always been invisible to her. She’d been raised to believe her merits made her who she was. But looking at those children, with their wide smiles and happy eyes, she wondered how true that was. None of those kids had asked to be born during a war. She chewed on her thoughts, though there was little she could do for them at the moment. Or for anyone, for that matter. She was as vulnerable on this world as they were.

  She was brought out of her reverie at the sound of butchers’ cleavers thwacking against wooden blocks as they carved up the meat before them. Fishmongers yelled out their morning catch, shouting above the fruit and vegetable sellers offering their fresh produce. Wine and ale merchants carefully displayed their bottles. Across the square, the sweet smells of perfume mingled with the scents of herbs from apothecaries – there were several of them, but two stood out. Towering figures, eight-feet tall, with dark green skin and bulging muscles hidden beneath robes that flowed to their ankles. They were using pestle and mortars to grind herbs, which they then added to perfumed liquids. She was surprised at the delicate manner in which they worked, at odds with their imposing figures.

  She glanced at Korin again, this time with a raised eyebrow. He had a look at where she’d been staring.

  “Orks. If you ever have an ailment, you could do a lot worse than Orken herbs.”

  She nodded as Captain Godfrey led them beyond the stalls, towards the five and six-storey buildings lining the roads around the square, each containing shops selling the same kind of goods as those on offer in the square itself. Those were likely the ones doing really well, able to afford a stable building for their trade.

  Then she noticed the wide penned area – almost as large as the square itself at the end of the row of buildings. Massive eagle-like creatures waited patiently, heads pecking for feed in the troughs set up around the pen. They had golden beaks, and mainly white feathers streaked with pink, gold, or blue, each standing ten or so feet tall on four powerful legs with dwarven sized talons. One of them spread its wings, almost three times as wide as it was long.

  But it wasn’t just the magnificent beasts that caught her attention. She couldn’t help but gape at the handlers that walked among the eagle-like creatures, her eyes widening as they darted between them. Some had pointed ears and tails with twitching whiskers. Others had thin membranes between their arms and bodies. Two of the handlers looked like horses with human torsos and arms. One slithered on a scaled tail.

  She heard Korin chuckle, a booming sound deep in his throat. Even Elliott and Isabel glanced around.

  “She’s awed by the beastkin,” the dwarf chuckled. Elliott and Isabel turned back around as if beastkin were an everyday occurrence in the streets of London. They weren’t. In fact, there were no other species on Earth like this. Just humans. Or animals. No in-between. She had questions. So many questions. She was certainly going to go talk to them, but she turned her attention back to the store Captain Godfrey was leading them into. Through the windowfront, she could see four suits of armour displayed on wooden stands on either side of the door.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “The King’s blacksmith,” Korin whispered to her as they entered the store, pointing at the sign above the door. A rearing silver horse behind a gold hammer and anvil, on a canvas of blue.

  The interior of the store was small, a few metres of wooden floor between them and the counter, and it smelled of oils and the faint tinge of metal. The walls to either side displayed a small number of weapons – swords, axes, maces. Beneath the counter, a glass window displayed daggers and other pronged weapons resting on delicate cushions, as well as rings and gemmed gauntlets.

  Behind the counter, a female dwarf sat at another desk, a vice holding a gleaming silver gauntlet in its grip as she examined it, a large magnifying glass strapped to her head and pressed to her eye. She wore deep blue overalls, with arms bulging through her chequered shirt.

  Captain Godfrey coughed. “Brenna.”

  The dwarf turned to them. Rose tried not to stare as Brenna’s eyes swept over them, one normal-sized, the other three times bigger, making her look like one of those monsters one might find in a children’s book. Rose bit her lip to keep from laughing, though she could see Korin’s shoulders slightly shaking. Elliott and Isabel on the other hand didn’t seem to see the funny side.

  “Godfrey,” Brenna said. She jumped down from the chair she was on and walked over to the counter that reached to the bottom of her chin. “I got word from the King. You have some ore to sell me?”

  Godfrey gestured at Korin, who waddled over to the counter and put his pack down on the floor, opening the flap on top, revealing a shimmer of light. Korin pressed something on the front of the pack and a moment later, something pushed itself through that shimmer of light – it parted as the sack of ore emerged through the rippling barrier. Korin reached out and grabbed the neck of the sack, gently laying it on the countertop. He undid the drawstring, and pressed the opening of the sack wider, revealing the three elemental cores within.

  Brenna’s monster eye widened. She moved her head closer to the ore as she grabbed one of the flame ores in a gloved hand and held it to her magnified eye. She peered into it.

  “Pure elemental ore,” she announced with wonder. “Haven’t seen one of these in years. Where did you get this? Stole it?”

  Korin’s beard bristled. “Absolutely not.”

  “Well, if this is the kind of ore that you’re packing,” Brenna said, moving her head back and fixing her eyes on Korin, “I wouldn’t mind seeing what else you might be packing.”

  Elliott laughed. No, he didn’t just laugh. He burst out laughing. Rose didn’t think it was all that funny. Besides, if there was anyone to laugh at, it was him in those ridiculous leggings he still had on. At her side, Korin’s head had popped like a temperature gauge, and the temperature was certainly hot.

  “Ms Brenna,” Elliott said, cutting in. “How much would you be willing to part with for this ore.”

  Brenna kept her monster eye on Korin as she answered. “One thousand gold apiece.”

  “Not a chance,” Korin cut in, head still flushed. He might’ve felt a little embarrassed but his tone was brusque. “There’s over a kilo of ore. Pure ore. Four and a half thousand at least, and that’s being generous.”

  Brenna blinked. She picked up the frost ore instead this time, studying it, turning it over.

  “Twelve hundred apiece.”

  “Fourteen hundred,” Korin replied.

  “Twelve fifty.”

  “Fourteen hundred.”

  Brenna looked at him again as she set the ore down.

  “I do like a man who doesn’t back down,” she winked. “I’ll give you four thousand for the lot.”

  Korin looked up at Elliott and gave him a slight nod.

  “Four thousand for the lot it is,” Elliott said.

  Brenna beamed. Korin busied himself with closing his pack as Brenna rushed to the back of the store, before returning with 19 gold bars and 100 gold coins. She brought out a scale, weighing the gold in front of them. It came to two kilograms. Elliott looked at Korin, who gave him another nod, before Isabel grabbed the gold and made it disappear.

  Brenna smiled, then looked at Korin. “Come and visit any time you want. Our kinfolk are leaving the human lands in droves. It would be good to have someone to talk to. Few of us remain here.”

  Korin tipped his head to her. “Do you have any news from home?”

  “Last I heard, there were talks of war between the tribes.”

  “I heard similar rumours,” Korin replied. “If I get the chance, I’ll come and visit.” He strapped his pack to his back and walked out of the store.

  “Thank you, Brenna. I’m sure we might do business again,” Elliott said, as the rest of them made their way to join Korin. He was waiting just outside the view of the shop and when they went to join him, his face was no less flushed than before. He looked at them as they approached and pointed to a store on the opposite side of the square.

  “That’s a renowned store for inventory. Some of the best magical storage you can buy.”

  “Elmes?” Elliott said, reading the large gold lettering above the huge doors.

  “Oh, don’t let the people inside hear you call it that,” Godfrey laughed. “It’s El-mez.”

  Elliott’s mouth twitched.

  “Lead the way.”

  Lord Commander Darius stood in the antechamber of the Emperor’s court, hands clasped behind his back as he looked through the tall arched windows. Landscaped gardens rolled gently down a hill towards the ten-metre high palace walls, beyond which early morning sunlight glinted off the flowing waters of the Sabina River as boats rolled softly towards the docks. To the north, across the water, the city of Talusia sprawled lightly upwards and to east and west, brick houses huddled together in the shadows of stone towers and several domed basilicas for the Order of Balance.

  Replacing the religion of the gods with the religion of no gods, he thought to himself, though he had a brief glance at the guards that lined the walls and standing before the great doors to the court chambers. Such thoughts were outlawed in the Empire, but it hadn’t been lost to Darius – probably not to any of the high nobles – that their campaign for conquest began when the Order gained a foothold in West Rhian. Not that it concerned him too much. Conquest had always been part of the human kingdoms. Rhian had itself become so large from dominating smaller nations.

  He turned back to the gardens and their perfectly maintained hedges, watching gardeners kneel among the variety of colourful flowers, pruning overgrown stems and weeds. Darius had been waiting for the better part of an hour, the plate mail he wore beneath his blue cloak feeling heavier with every minute. His sword and helmet had been handed over to the guards at the antechamber’s entrance. Darius hadn’t been alone when he’d arrived. Lord Commander Jalen from the city of Liandra, north of the border with Aldren, had been here waiting before him. He had been seen soon after, but other than pleasantries, they had exchanged no words, but Darius had a niggling feeling they were here for the same reasons.

  From his left, a loud groan from hinges in need of oiling drew his attention as one of the great doors leading to the court opened and a man appeared, wearing the Emperor’s livery, a long blue tunic emblazoned with the cross and stars of the Empire draped over a blue and gold doublet and long black hose. The court servant walked towards him, bowing his head just the right amount. Darius tilted his head at the back of the other man’s.

  The man raised his head, brown eyes fixed on Darius, a flat smile on his lips as he clasped his hands in front of him, at his waist.

  “The Emperor will see you now,” he said.