Chapter 25 - Travel Method

As I stood amidst the vibrant throng, the capital city of Vestar unfolded before me like a rich tapestry.

The architecture was a captivating blend of medieval grandeur and modern flair, reminiscent of a 1990s setting, but with a unique twist.

The absence of cars was notable, but the presence of trains and bustling train stations more than made up for it.

The streets pulsed with energy, as people from all walks of life hurried about their daily business.

The roads, smoothly paved with dark, glistening cobblestones, seemed to shimmer in the fading light of day.

The air was filled with the enticing aromas of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafting from modern-style cafes, where patrons sipped their lattes and savored sweet treats.

As I pondered my next move, I weighed my options carefully. I could use the teleportation gate, which promised swift and convenient travel, but at a potentially steep cost.

Alternatively, I could head to the train station, where the rhythmic chug of trains and the murmur of passengers created a soothing melody.

Or, I could choose to travel with a nomadic caravan, immersing myself in the rustic charm of a bygone era.

As I stood at the crossroads, weighing my options, the teleportation gates seemed like an enticing choice, promising swift and effortless travel.

However, I knew that convenience came with a steep price – the requirement of valid identification.

The only ID I possessed was the royal family's crest, emblazoned on a sleek, silver card.

But using that would be akin to signing my own arrest warrant. The queen's agents would be able to track my every move, tracing my steps with ease. It was a risk I couldn't afford to take.

The train station, on the other hand, presented a more nuanced option.

While it was theoretically possible for the queen's agents to track my journey, I could always drop off the train just before reaching my submitted destination.

It would be a clever ruse, leaving them scrambling to pinpoint my location. The train station seemed like the safer option, a calculated risk that might just pay off.

As for joining a caravan, it was a prospect that filled me with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

The journey would be long and arduous, fraught with short-term dangers like bandits and wild beasts.

Yet, it posed less of a risk in terms of the queen tracking me down. But I had made up my mind – the train station it was.

With a sense of determination, I set off towards the train station, the sound of my footsteps echoing through the bustling streets of Vestar.

The station's imposing clock tower loomed in the distance, its intricate stonework and gleaming brass fixtures glinting in the fading light of day.

************

Justina stood tall, her imposing figure framed by the large doors to the throne hall.

She knocked twice, the sound echoing through the corridor, before the doors creaked open, revealing a glimpse of the opulent interior.

With a confident stride, Justina walked inside, her boots sinking into the plush red carpet that stretched from the entrance to the throne steps.

As she proceeded, her gaze swept across the knights standing at attention near the pillars.

Their armor glinted in the soft light, the polished steel plates adorned with intricate engravings.

On their backs, capes flowed like crimson waterfalls, each emblazoned with the royal insignia – a proud lion's head, its jaws open in a fierce roar. .

The knights' helmets, shaped like eagles' beaks, seemed to gaze sternly into the distance, their visors glinting like mirrors.

Justina nodded in acknowledgement at the knights, who returned the gesture with precise, mechanical movements.

She continued walking towards the throne steps, her footsteps echoing off the marble walls.

Upon reaching the steps, she knelt down, her armor creaking softly, and spoke in a clear, respectful tone. "Justina Clyde greets His Majesty."

The emperor's voice, low and commanding, responded from the throne. "Acknowledged. Rise and give your report."

Justina raised her head, her eyes locking onto the emperor's, and responded,

"By your will, sire." She then began to deliver her report, her words precise and measured.

When she finished, the emperor let out a deep sigh, his expression contemplative. "So he decided to leave, huh." A pause, and then he called out, "Kluivert."

The shadow under his throne seemed to vibrate, like the surface of a pond, before a purple-haired man emerged from the darkness.

He knelt on one knee, his eyes cast downward, and spoke in a low, gravelly voice. "Understood, your majesty."

The emperor nodded, his gaze drifting upward, toward the ceiling. His thoughts, hidden behind a mask of calm, seemed to reach out to someone absent. 'Could we have been wrong, Aelaria? Could he not be the one to fulfill our dreams?'

A hint of longing crept into his thoughts. 'If only you were here.' The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, the only sound the soft creaking of the throne.