Aurelia assaulted the senses like a fever dream made manifest. The moment Ash stepped from the train station into the city proper, he understood why it was called the empire's playground for the wealthy. Everything gleamed with an artificial perfection that spoke of money invested not in necessity, but in impression.
The late afternoon sun reflected off buildings faced with polished marble and inlaid with precious metals. Mana-powered fountains sent crystalline water dancing in impossible patterns, while street performers with genuine magical talent entertained crowds of well-dressed tourists. The very air seemed to shimmer with prosperity and carefully orchestrated decadence.
But prosperity came with a price that made Ash's carefully hoarded gold feel suddenly inadequate.
His first stop was a clothier's shop in the merchant district, where he hoped to acquire clothing suitable for meeting minor nobility. The shopkeeper, a thin man with calculating eyes, looked him up and down with obvious assessment.
"Tourist attire or business formal?" the man asked, though his tone suggested he'd already made assumptions about Ash's financial limitations.
"Business formal. Something suitable for calling on Lord Denver."
The mention of a noble name shifted the shopkeeper's attitude immediately. "Ah, of course. For the Denver estate, you'll want something with proper enhancement work. Can't appear before a lord looking like a common tradesman."
The suit he assembled cost nearly a full gold piece—dark wool trousers and jacket cut in the current fashion, a shirt of fine cotton with subtle mana-thread embroidery, and a vest with minor comfort enchantments that would regulate temperature and provide gentle muscle relaxation throughout the day. The ensemble included a small vial of imported cologne, leather gloves that would never show wear, and shoes that would remain spotless regardless of street conditions.
"The healing enhancement is quite modest," the shopkeeper explained as he made final adjustments.
As Ash handed over the gold, he reflected grimly on Aurelia's economy. Everything was designed to extract maximum profit from visitors who expected luxury and were willing to pay for the privilege.
His lodging proved equally expensive. The inn he selected—modest by Aurelia's standards but still respectable—charged thirty silver per night for a room that would have cost five silver in the capital. The innkeeper, a cheerful woman with the practised smile of someone accustomed to wealthy clientele, explained the pricing without embarrassment.
"Tourism season, you understand. Supply and demand. But you'll find the accommodations worth the expense—mana-heated water, spell-warded locks, and complimentary morning meal service."
Ash paid for one night and settled into his room, which was admittedly comfortable despite the cost. The bed was softer than anything he'd experienced, the windows offered a pleasant view of the city's entertainment district, and the washbasin provided hot water at the touch of a rune.
But as he prepared for sleep, he couldn't shake the feeling that Aurelia was designed to drain visitors' resources as efficiently as possible while providing just enough luxury to justify the expense.
___
Morning in Aurelia arrived with the sound of street vendors hawking exotic breakfast items to early-rising tourists. Ash made his way to the inn's dining room, where he discovered that even the complimentary meal came with additional charges for anything beyond bread and porridge.
"The fruit preserves are imported from the southern provinces," the serving girl explained apologetically. "And the coffee is from our private estates. There's a small supplemental fee..."
By the time he'd assembled a proper breakfast, Ash had spent another five silver. Even water—freely available for the public in the capital—cost copper coins here, though it was allegedly enhanced with beneficial minerals and subtle flavour improvements.
The city revealed its character as he explored. The main commercial districts catered to tourists with money to spend, offering everything from magical trinkets to exotic entertainments. But beneath the polished surface, he caught glimpses of a more complex economy built around discretion and accommodation.
Subtle signs advertised services that would be illegal in more conservative cities. Private gaming establishments, exclusive auction houses, and entertainment venues that promised experiences unavailable elsewhere. The authorities operated under different guidelines here, prioritising tourist satisfaction over strict moral enforcement.
The Denver estate occupied a prime location in the noble quarter, surrounded by carefully maintained gardens and protected by walls that were both decorative and functional. The guards at the gate wore uniforms that suggested military training rather than ceremonial duty.
"State your business," the senior guard requested, though his tone remained polite.
"Courier delivery for Lord Valdris Denver. From business associates in the capital."
The verification process was thorough but efficient. They examined his travel documents, searched his belongings, and required him to remove his mask for facial identification. Only after consulting some internal registry were they satisfied with his credentials.
"Lord Denver is currently occupied with estate business," the guard informed him. "You'll need to wait in the visiting chamber until he's available."
The waiting chamber was elegantly appointed but designed to remind visitors of their place in the social hierarchy. Ash settled into a comfortable chair and prepared for what might be a long wait, watching through tall windows as servants went about their duties in the estate's courtyards.
Three hours passed before a steward arrived to escort him deeper into the mansion. Lord Valdris Denver received him in a private study lined with books and decorated with artefacts that spoke of both wealth and refined taste.
The lord himself was a man in his early thirties, with the kind of casual confidence that came from never doubting one's place in the world. His clothing was expensive but understated, suggesting someone secure enough in his status to avoid ostentatious display.
"Correspondence from Corwin, I assume?" he said, accepting the sealed envelope Ash presented. "I trust the journey was pleasant?"
"Yes, my lord. Mr. Corwin sends his regards and hopes the contents will prove useful for your current endeavours."
Ashcroft broke the seal and scanned the contents, his expression revealing nothing of their significance. "Indeed. Always helpful to maintain current intelligence about one's various interests." He looked up at Ash with renewed attention. "You're quite young for courier work. Family trade?"
"Independent contractor, my lord. Mr. Corwin occasionally requires discrete delivery services."
"Ah, the entrepreneurial spirit. Admirable in one so young." Ashcroft moved to his desk and withdrew a small leather purse. "Your efficiency deserves recognition beyond standard courier fees."
The purse contained five gold pieces, as much as Ash had been paid for the entire assignment. The generosity was either a sign of genuine appreciation or an indication of how casually the wealthy regarded sums that represented life-changing amounts to common folk.
"You're most generous, my lord."
"Nonsense. Quality service should be rewarded appropriately." Ashcroft gestured toward the door. "Jenkins will arrange for refreshments before you return to your lodging. I trust you'll enjoy the remainder of your stay in our fair city."
The meal that followed was more elaborate than anything Ash had experienced—multiple courses served on porcelain that probably cost more than his annual earnings, accompanied by wine that made his taste buds understand why wealthy people developed such specific preferences.
As he finally made his way back through the city streets, pockets heavy with unexpected gold, Ash reflected on the casual display of wealth he'd witnessed. To Lord Denver, five gold pieces were a trivial expense, barely worth considering. The disparity between noble and common lived experiences was even more pronounced here than in the capital.
___
Back at his inn, Ash extended his stay for two additional nights. The merchant gala was scheduled for tomorrow evening, and he wanted an extra day to recover before the journey home. The innkeeper accepted his additional payment with the same practised smile, though her eyes showed approval at his apparent prosperity.
The next day arrived with news that made Ash grateful for Corwin's cautionary instructions. The entire noble quarter had been sealed off by imperial guard units, with only verified guests allowed within several blocks of the gala venue. Security checkpoints, magical ward detection, and aerial surveillance made any unauthorised approach impossible.
Ash spent the day exploring other parts of the city, carefully avoiding anything that might draw official attention. Whatever was happening at the merchant gathering, it involved activities significant enough to warrant serious security measures.
By evening, he'd concluded that discretion was indeed the better part of valour. Whatever stories might emerge from tonight's events would have to come from other sources.
___
The following morning brought an unexpected opportunity. While browsing the tourist information available in the inn's lobby, Ash noticed an advertisement for something called "The Land of the Rising Sun",—described as a scenic valley known for its natural beauty and peaceful atmosphere.
The excursion was scheduled to depart that evening, with transportation provided by horse-drawn carriages along routes that offered different levels of comfort and cost. The premium route, with enhanced suspension and refreshment service, costs one gold per person. The standard route was priced at fifty silver, expensive by capital standards, but reasonable for Aurelia.
After the stress of the past few days, the prospect of genuine natural scenery appealed to him. Ash purchased a ticket for the standard route and reported to the departure point as evening approached.
Ash's carriage accommodated eight passengers plus the driver. His travelling companions represented a cross-section of Aurelia's tourist population: a middle-aged couple from the eastern provinces celebrating their wedding anniversary, two young men who appeared to be junior merchants exploring business opportunities, an elderly scholar researching imperial geography, and a pair of sisters visiting from a rural farming community.
"First time to the valley?" asked one of the sisters, Marina, a cheerful woman in her twenties who seemed genuinely excited about the adventure.
"Yes. I've heard the sunrise display is remarkable."
"Oh, it is!" exclaimed the scholar, a thin man with ink-stained fingers who introduced himself as Professor Hendricks. "The valley's unique geography creates atmospheric effects that can't be replicated anywhere else in the empire. The mineral deposits in the surrounding hills interact with dawn light to produce colours that seem almost magical."
The merchant couple, Mr. and Mrs. Dalton, had visited the valley twice before and were happy to share their experiences. "The standard tour provides perfectly adequate viewing," Mrs. Dalton assured the group. "The luxury tours mainly offer better food and private restrooms. The natural spectacle remains the same regardless of what you pay."
As the carriage train began moving through Aurelia's outer districts, the conversation flowed easily among the passengers. Everyone seemed to be escaping their daily routines in search of something beautiful and memorable—a desire that transcended social class or profession.
The route initially followed paved roads that connected Aurelia to the surrounding resort communities. The carriages moved in a convoy of nearly twenty vehicles, their lanterns creating a stream of light that stretched along the winding mountain paths. The organization was impressive—guides on horseback maintained communication between carriages, and rest stops were coordinated to prevent congestion at narrow points.
As they climbed higher into the hills, the paved roads gave way to natural pathways that had been improved for tourism but retained their original character. The carriages swayed gently as they navigated curves and gentle inclines, their suspension systems absorbing most of the bumps and jolts that might have made the journey uncomfortable.
"Look at that moon," Marina said softly, pointing through the carriage window at the full moon rising above the treeline. "It's so bright you can almost read by it."
The moonlight transformed the landscape into something ethereal, casting silver highlights on the rock formations and forest canopy. The air carried the clean scents of pine and mountain stone, free from the urban smells of smoke and industry that characterised even the cleanest cities.
Ash found himself genuinely relaxing for the first time since arriving in Aurelia. The gentle motion of the carriage, the quiet conversation of his fellow passengers, and the beauty of the moonlit scenery created a peaceful atmosphere that felt almost magical.
Then the explosion hit.
It wasn't just noise—it was force. A deafening blast from up ahead tore through the convoy like a wave. Ash's ears popped. The carriage jolted, wheels screeching against the road—then they were airborne.
Gravity disappeared.
Ash felt the weightlessness of the drop—his gut twisting, throat locked up. The carriage spun in the air. Wood cracked, metal screamed. Loose belongings flung everywhere. A boot slammed into his chest. A flask ricocheted off the window and shattered.
The impact came fast. The carriage struck the slope and rolled.
Splinters flew like knives. Someone's arm snapped with a wet crunch beside him. A scream was cut off mid-breath. Blood sprayed across the cabin—he couldn't see whose. Marina's body slammed into his side, her nails clawing for anything to hold onto. Her skull cracked the wall on the next roll.
Then something smashed into Ash's temple—a wooden beam, maybe part of the roof—and his vision exploded with white.
Everything spun. He didn't feel the next impact. Or the next.
Sound vanished.
The last thing he saw was the world turning sideways, Marina's blood trailing in the air, and a flicker of fire outside the shattered window.
Then nothing.