The journey to Aralis had begun with what seemed like an ordinary day—bright skies, the occasional chirping of birds, and the steady rhythm of their steps along the road. But as the miles between Saladan and the capital of Midland stretched before them, a strange tension began to settle over the group, an uneasiness that none of them could shake off. It wasn't the threat of danger that gnawed at them, not at first. It was something else—something more instinctual, like the premonition of a storm on the horizon, one that they couldn't quite see but could feel coming.
Princess Liria, riding beside her brother, Prince Belin, felt it most acutely. Her fingers tightened around the reins, and she cast occasional wary glances over her shoulder, as though expecting something—or someone—to leap from the shadows. But there was nothing. The road was empty, save for the occasional traveller and the distant rumble of the wind through the trees. And yet, every time they passed a civilian, Liria couldn't help but notice the way they looked at them—furtive glances, sidelong stares, eyes that seemed cold, and at times, even filled with suspicion. It made her stomach churn.
"Do you feel that?" she asked her brother quietly, her voice barely rising above the soft clopping of hooves on the road.
Belin looked at her, his face drawn and serious, his brow furrowed. "Yes. It's like something's not right. People seem... different here."
The prince's tone mirrored her unease. They had been traveling through various towns and villages on their way to Aralis, but it had never felt quite like this. It wasn't just the people's eyes, though that was unsettling enough. It was the air itself. The sun, though high in the sky, seemed shrouded by a thick layer of dark clouds that hung oppressively overhead. It was a shadow that never quite left, even as the bright blue sky should have been visible through the breaks in the clouds. The light felt muted, like someone had dimmed the world.
"Do you think it's because we're in Midland's capital?" Liria asked. "Is it just the unfamiliarity of it?"
Belin shook his head, his gaze scanning the distant horizon. "I don't think it's just that. There's something off about these people... like they know something we don't."
Tia, who had been walking beside the horses, her hands occupied with the task of knitting, glanced up at the siblings, catching their words. "You feel it too, then? I thought I was imagining it," she said softly, her voice carrying the quiet wisdom of someone who had seen and experienced far more than most would care to know.
Liria nodded. "It's strange. Everywhere we go, it's as though they're watching us, sizing us up. And not in a welcoming way."
There was a deep, unsettling silence that followed her words. Even Banrik, the most stalwart of the guards, looked uneasy, his sharp eyes scanning the road ahead, his hand close to his sword, as if he, too, sensed something dark on the horizon. They had all heard the stories about Aralis—the bustling capital of Midland, a city where wealth and power often hid secrets buried beneath layers of opulence and gilded masks. But this—this unease—they hadn't been prepared for.
As they entered the outskirts of Aralis, the city loomed before them, its imposing walls visible even from a distance, a reminder of its grandeur and influence. The closer they got, however, the more they could feel the tension in the air. People moved quickly, casting glances over their shoulders, their faces etched with anxiety. It was as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something.
Belin pulled his horse to a stop as they neared the entrance to the city. His gaze was fixed ahead, but his mind seemed distant, troubled by something he couldn't put into words.
"This isn't what I expected," he muttered under his breath.
"No," Liria agreed, her voice strained. "I don't like this at all."
They made their way through the streets of Aralis, which were far more crowded than any town they had passed through on their journey. The streets were bustling with people from all walks of life—merchants shouting out the wares they sold, children running past, beggars sitting in the corners, and guards patrolling the cobblestone pathways. Yet, there was a palpable silence in the air, an eerie quiet that seemed to weigh heavily on everyone. The shadows that stretched across the city didn't feel natural—they were long, too long, as though the very city itself was cloaked in something that defied the usual rhythms of daylight.
Liria felt it more than she had ever felt before: eyes. People were staring at them—no, watching them, as if waiting for something to happen. It made her skin crawl. She had always been aware of how people regarded royalty, but this was different. These were not the usual curious glances of common folk who might gaze upon a noble from a distance. No, these were eyes that bore into her, as if they could see through her disguise, through the white cloak she wore to cover her identity.
Belin's jaw was tight as they pushed forward. "We should hurry to the library and get what we came for," he said, his voice strained.
Liria nodded, though her heart was heavy. She hadn't come here for anything beyond the hope of losing herself in the stories of the books, but now, even the idea of the library seemed like a fragile refuge from the suffocating atmosphere of the city.
They continued onward, weaving through the narrow alleyways until they arrived at the grand library of Aralis. It was an ancient structure, its stone walls etched with intricate carvings, and its tall, arched windows gave it an air of solemnity and reverence. But even here, among the rows of books and the hallowed silence, Liria couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong.
Inside, the air was cooler, and the faint smell of parchment and ink filled her senses. Liria exhaled softly, grateful for the brief respite. She had always loved the library; it was one of the few places where she had found solace as a child.
She made her way to the shelves, her fingers lightly tracing the spines of the books. She had always found comfort in reading. It was an escape from reality—a reality that had become far too harsh for her to bear. She needed this, even if only for a few moments.
Her brother lingered near the door, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Hurry, Liria," he urged softly. "Let's just get what we need and leave. I don't like the feeling of being here any longer than we have to."
Liria nodded, though she felt a tug of reluctance in her chest. She had promised herself that she would only take a moment, she couldn't shake the nagging sense that time was running out, and that danger was closer than they knew. With a soft sigh, she made her way to the counter, where the librarian stood waiting. He looked up as she approached, a faint smile on his lips.
"Returning one so soon?" he asked.
Liria forced a smile, but her heart wasn't in it. "Yes. It's time to leave," she replied quietly.
She handed him the book, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. The librarian took it with a nod, his gaze lingering for a moment too long on her face. There it was again—an unreadable look, an unsettling curiosity.
With that, they left the library, stepping back into the strange, oppressive city of Aralis. The streets felt narrower now, the shadows deeper. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, as though the world was waiting for something to happen. And Liria couldn't shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before everything they had been running from caught up to them.
As they turned a corner, she glanced back once more at the library, her mind swirling with thoughts of the book she had just returned. And for a fleeting moment, she wondered if it had been the right decision to come here at all.