Caelmont was a city that could humble even the proudest heart. Perched atop a jagged plateau carved by the hands of gods themselves, its walls rose in sweeping arcs of silvered stone and black granite.
Each tier of the city spilled downward in terraced rings, their rooftops crowned with banners that whipped in the wind. From a distance, Caelmont seemed part fortress, part jewel, carved from the spine of the mountains and set between heaven and earth.
At its heart towered the Aether Throne .... a citadel wrought from living crystal and pale moonstone. Its spires pierced the clouds, veiled in a constant shimmer, as though the sky itself poured its light into the stone. Legends claimed it had been born from the First Tempest, when the heavens split and the raw breath of the elements was bound into form.
Whoever sat upon the Aether Throne was said to feel the rhythm of the seas, the whisper of the wind, the heat of the earth's core, and the cold of the deepest frost.
