Harmonia Calendar 715, Chelon 15 - Harbor, Toran
I leaned against the railing and watched the waves strike the hull beneath me. The sea breeze blew through my hair and carried the scent of salt into my nose.
The ship slammed into the waves.
Crash.
Water sprayed across the deck. I stumbled, but my grip on the railings held me steady.
Ache throbbed through my body. I rolled my stiff shoulders, joints cracking. Twenty days of riding in cold winds to Marinthal, then six more confined to this ship. The bruises on my thighs still burned from the saddle.
I drew a breath, heavier than I meant it to be.
'The journey's over at last.'
I lifted my eyes toward the city before me.
At first, only the harbor. Stone piers sprawling, brown masts jutting like a forest of spears. Dozens of ships lined the docks, sails rolled up, flags waving in the wind.
Cranes groaned as they lifted crates from the ship to the pier. The harbor was alive. Sailors barking orders, merchants calling prices, travelers streaming down the piers. Voices clashed in half a dozen accents. Above it all, seabirds wheeled, their cries echoing across the harbor.
But behind the noise, Toran's true shape revealed itself.
Beyond the harbor rose white marble walls, with broad stairs carved into their surface, leading toward the city. Behind them surged buildings of every size and shape. Towers lanced into the sky, some marked with glowing runes, others curling into delicate spirals.
Between them stood the academies. Vast complexes, each different, yet bound together in purpose.
High above the towers, massive ships of steel drifted through the sky.
Airships.
They floated as if the world's laws bent for this city alone. Trails of luminous sparks followed after them, scattering like stardust across the daylight.
This was Toran.
A place of brilliance, where mages, scientists, warriors, and inventors lived side by side.
A small smile touched my lips, but it faded as quickly as it came.
'Adonis should have seen this. He loved travel, loved meeting people. But now…'
I gripped the railing tighter.
His face resurfaced in my mind. The tears in his eyes, the rage as he was abandoned.
'I told him I would protect him. Stand beside him. In the end, I couldn't change anything. I was too weak.'
My grip clenched harder, knuckles whitening.
'Hold on, Adonis. Until I come.'
Another memory rose. The day I left. Mother's trembling hands. Theodora's cries.
A tear slid down my cheek.
'I hope they're safe.'
The thought of them pressed heavily against my chest. I brushed the tear aside with my sleeve.
I promised myself. To them. To him. I would return stronger. I would find Adonis. I would bring him back.
A month on the road had been enough time to steady myself.
'I can't break. Not now. This is the moment to give everything, to keep my word.'
"Docking!"
A shout cut through the air, dragging my mind back to the deck.
Another followed.
"Docking in five!"
Sailors scrambled to their posts, boots clattering against wood.
"Get her ready!"
Men moved at once, pulling ropes, lowering sails, guiding the ship toward the pier. The wood groaned, water splashing as the ship leaned into the current.
Another voice rang.
"Portside clear!"
The dock came closer.
Thud.
With a final jolt, the hull struck stone. Ropes flew, tightening fast.
The ship bumped against the pier a few more times before it stilled. Planks dropped, their ends fixed to the stone. Around us, the voices of dockworkers rose.
"Unload fast!"
"Careful with that crate!"
"Spices go left, iron to the storehouse!"
I shifted, ready to head down the plank, when a creak behind me made me pause. I turned.
Old Stu's wooden leg scratched the deck as he limped closer. He patted my shoulder, a gap-toothed smile breaking across his face.
"Go on, boy. Toran's all yours."
I smiled at him.
"Thank you for the help, Old Stu. I'll give it my best."
I lifted my bag and swung it over my shoulder as I stepped down the plank.
My boots hit the pier. The ground felt unsteady after so many days at sea. I swayed on my feet before finding my balance again.
The harbor around me teemed with motion. Sailors unloaded cargo. Horses neighed as carts rolled by, wheels creaking under crates stamped with foreign seals. Children darted between workers, chasing gulls across the pier.
I walked through it all, taking it in. The noise and the number of people felt nothing like the estate.
My feet carried me toward the eastern stairs. They were wide enough for hundreds, carved from white marble that gleamed under the sun.
I halted and slipped a hand into my coat. My fingers closed around cold metal.
The Whisper.
Mother had given it to me shortly before I left the estate, so we could keep in touch.
I took it out. A polished sphere, small enough to fit in my palm. Plain, without decoration, its surface gleamed silver.
I channeled a bit of mana into the device. The sphere warmed in my hand as a square of silver-white light shimmered above it, glowing steady in the air.
My finger slid across the surface, navigating through the menu, opening my last messages.
Letters formed.
[Eastern stairs. Tenth bell.]
I raised my eyes. Ahead, a clock tower rose between the roofs.
Four minutes to ten.
I channeled mana into it again. The glowing square folded shut, leaving only the cool weight of the sphere. I slipped the Whisper back into my coat and tightened my grip on the strap of my bag.
Then I started the climb.
The stairs were higher than I'd expected. By the time I reached the top, my legs were burning, still sore from the long journey. I stopped near the last step to catch my breath.
And then another view hit me.
The market of Toran. The border between harbor and city. It stretched wide, stand after stand, filling the square. Wooden stalls were draped in bright fabrics, colors flashing against the marble around them.
The smell of grilled meat, fish, and fruit hit me next. Smoke and spice hung in the air.
Crowds packed the square, but they didn't block the view beyond.
Toran.
No comparison to our small estate. Buildings stretched into the horizon, each large enough to be a mansion on its own. The towers I had glimpsed from the sea now loomed vast, their runes burning clearer in daylight. The academies sprawled across districts like cities of their own. And above it all, the airships drifted, their shadows sweeping over entire blocks as they passed.
A shoulder bumped mine. My eyes shifted back to the crowd and the market around me.
The market roared, a wave of voices so loud the words blurred into noise.
Then, from the side, a voice cut through.
"Lucien?"
I turned my head.
A boy stood a few steps away. Seventeen at most. Brown hair fell messily over his forehead, his eyes sharp despite the plain clothes he wore. His build was average, but he carried himself with ease.
He pointed a finger at me.
"You... Are you Lucien Ashspire?"
The name made me flinch.
'Ashspire.'
I hated hearing it. Not because it was false, but because of them.
Anton and Favian.
They had turned it into a burden.
My jaw tightened before I answered.
"Yes."
His eyes narrowed slightly. His lips twitched.
"You look like shit."
I blinked, caught off guard.
He wasn't done. Covering his nose, he spoke again.
"And you smell like shit."
My mouth opened in disbelief before words finally came out.
"What?"
He tilted his head, smiling as he studied me.
"Your clothes are torn, your hair's a mess, and you smell like the ship that brought you. You look less like a noble and more like a beggar."
I frowned.
I drew out my Whisper and channeled mana into it. A silver screen shimmered to life above the sphere. I tapped it twice, and the glow shifted into a reflection of my face.
My tunic was frayed, my coat blackened with dirt. Blond hair tangled and darkened by grime. The journey had made me look more like a beggar than a noble.
A bitter laugh slipped out as I dimmed the screen and slid the Whisper back into my coat.
"Yeah. I guess I need a bath."
My gaze shifted back to him.
"Are you sent by Master Swert?"
He nodded, lips curling into a half-smile.
"Yes. I was told to meet you here and bring you along. My name's Sam."
He extended his hand.
I took it. His grip was firm, rougher than mine.
"Lucien."
He grinned as he let go.
"I know. Come on, follow me."
He turned around and walked into the stream of people. I followed.
The streets pressed close, lined with shops and stalls. Men shouted prices over bolts of cloth, women haggled over baskets of fruit.
My eyes darted from face to face. People everywhere. Busy, intent, alive.
'Strange. In Ashspire, most walked with their heads lowered. Here, they looked forward.'
Sam glanced back, smiling.
"First time in Toran?"
I nodded.
He stepped around a porter carrying a crate, talking as he moved.
"It's one of four cities. East, West, North, and South. Toran's ours. Center of innovation. Academies, labs, towers. You'll see."
He paused as we turned a corner.
"It doesn't belong to any king or noble. The Center governs itself."
The words rang with pride.
I had read about it. The Center. A continent created with five islands connected by bridges. Four cities, and the ancient ruins on the middle isle.
Sam kept leading me through the market until we reached the living district.
The houses towered over us. Each had at least two floors, most even more. Their stone facades were painted in bright colors.
As we walked, I glanced through the windows. Families lived here. They looked...happy.
Sam's voice pulled me forward.
"There."
He pointed ahead.
Near the end of the street stood a three-story building. The stone was stained, and the roof tiles faded. A sign swung above the door, one chain broken so it hung crooked.
[Swert School]
Compared to the shining towers I had seen from the sea, it looked shabby.
I asked, disappointment slipping into my voice.
"That's it?"
Sam grinned as we drew closer. He stopped in front of the building, spreading his arms wide in mock grandeur.
"Welcome to Swert School."
I stared at him, lips twitching at his showmanship, but I held back a laugh.
His grin faltered. He turned and muttered under his breath.
"Tough crowd."
He pushed the door open and waved me in.
"Come in."
I followed.