The royal court of the Capital of Yarzat stood like a crown upon the land, unattainable to all but a privileged few.
And for those rare enough to pass its gates, it evoked awe not unlike that of the great Cathedral of Romelia—sacred, serene, and silent in its authority.
Yet to truly understand its majesty, one had to escape the clamor of the city. The transition from Yarzat's raucous streets—where merchants hawked their wares, where the stench of sweat and spice clung to the air, where the clatter of hooves on cobblestone was a ceaseless drum—into the court's domain was like stepping through a veil.
One moment, chaos.
The next—stillness.
Before beign enveloped by stillness and beauty.
Just beyond the final arch of the city, the stone road stretched forward, smooth and well-kept, flanked on either side by seas of green. The grasses swayed in the wind like water disturbed by a distant ripple, and tall trees—oaks, elms, and willows—offered dappled shade .
