Of Spinning Gold and Song

| Thirteen | The Capital

We must have been traveling faster than we were before encountering the dragon—leaving earlier, stopping later, galloping more and walking less—because we reached the capital only five days later compared to the normal week long trip. The majestic sun was just dipping below the endless horizon of gold far off in the distance when we reached the outskirts of the city, bathing the land in a beautiful sort of crepuscular light that filtered into every crack and space, reflecting off all the windows and creating the illusion of gold.

Even from the very edge of the city, I could see the palace reaching up far into the sky, its blue and gold turrets towering far above all the other buildings at it reached for the heavens above. The sides of it were creamy white, the turrets glittering gold, a startling contrast from the greys and browns of the ramshackle buildings and huts I was used to in Betane.

The rest of the buildings were like the castle but more subdued. The dirty greys and browns were gone. Everything was made of a clean wood or polished stone, and I had yet to see a single building that didn't have some sort of golden embellishments, be it golden roof tiles or windowpanes, doorknobs or whatnot. It was a glittering golden city and I was in awe.

"Different from what you're used to?" asked Augustin, his voice amused.

"So different," I breathed. "It's so clean. So pure." I was in wonder. I knew Betane was falling apart, that the dragon and the dwarf had been effective in driving people from it. Over the years I had seen friends and acquaintances move away, their homes slowly fall into dissaray and seem to get absorbed by the forest around it. We were quickly becoming a ghost town; nobody wanted to live in my home.

I had known that we were far from wealthy. But still, I hadn't really quite believed this sort of widescale wealth was possible. It was more of a dream. Not a real world with hundreds or thousands of occupants.

"There's three social classes in the capital, really," said Augustin. "There's the aristocracy: the royals and nobles. The middle class is very upper middle class. Only the most skilled of the skilled artisans, the most prosperous of the prosperous merchants. And then there's the peasants—the servants, and apprentices—but most of them live with their employers. There's no room for poverty here. Lyvens is the wealthiest kingdom in the world and we have to establish that. We haven't had a single war in generations; nobody will question our power. And it's because of this. Everybody want to live here."

"I can see that," I said in awe. A look around revealed that the rest my fellow villagers were just as awestruck as I.

After a moment's pause, Augustin rounded up the men. He instructed them to head to a specific inn, sending them all on their way. I was just dismounting when he laid a hand on my shoulder. "You can come with me."

"I—" I was flattered, really, but a little uncertain. The city was so large and foreign, and I felt a stranger here. And as much as I cared for Augustin, I had to admit that I wanted to share the moment with Bradyn and everyone else I had grown up with. Besides Bradyn and Castor, I had seen all the mens' faces before coming on this trip, and had exchanged words with most of them. None of us had ever left our village before.

But we had dreamed. I knew I was a dreamer deep in my hidden heart, much as I tried to deny and hide it, but that didn't mean nobody else was. Even if they didn't long for adventure as much as I, everybody had fantasised about coming here at least once.

There was really no other option when living in a falling apart ghost town haunted by a malicious dwarf and a murderous dragon.

Furthermore, the capital was bustling crazy and I felt as though it would swallow me alive. Augustin was one of the people I trusted most in the world, but there was a certain safety in numbers. We hadn't really been alone like this before. Not away from the safety and familiarity in my village and woods I'd traveled a thousand times a year for eighteen years.