Eleonora and Isadora emerged suddenly from the shade of the woods, as the land rolled gently away into broad, cultivated fields of grain that rippled in the breeze. With low stone walls dividing the various fields. While the distant farmhouses dotting the landscape looked like pale grey boulders scattered across a green and yellow quilt.

  After days of traveling beneath looming trees, the sudden openness of the sky felt vast and almost startling. Sunlight spilled freely across the road, bright enough that both women had to shield their eyes as they adjusted. Eleonora smiled, breathing it in.

  “Oh, Isadora, it looks so pretty,” she said softly. “Yes, my lady,” Isadora replied. “in fact we should stop for our midday meal before continuing on,” Isadora said, already scanning the road ahead.

  “A wonderful idea,” Eleonora said cheerfully.

  Who was already dismounting Lady Sparkles the moment Isadora made the suggestion.

  She plopped herself down on a fallen log near the road with a dramatic sigh. “Ohhh, my legs,” she declared, stretching them out. “Why do roads insist on being so long?” she asked "philosophically".

  Isadora dismounted more carefully, already unrolling a cloth and setting out bread, cheese, and dried fruit with practiced efficiency. “Because, my lady,” she respond after moment in a calm voice, “shorter roads tend not to reach their destinations.”

  Eleonora blinked at that, then nodded solemnly. “That… like actually makes sense.” She reached for a piece of bread, missed it entirely, and grabbed the cloth instead, almost dumping everything on the ground. Isadora put the bread into Eleonora's hand without comment.

  They ate in companionable quiet for a moment, broken only by the occasional birdsong and Eleonora’s happy humming. Finally, Eleonora, staring up at the sky, broke the silence and asked.

  “Do you think,” she said thoughtfully, “that clouds ever get lost?” Isadora paused mid-bite. “…No, my lady.” “Oh.” Eleonora frowned. “That’s a shame. I feel like they’d be more interesting if they, like, did.”

  Isadora hid a smile behind her cup. “Finish your cheese.” Eleonora obeyed instantly, stuffing the cheese into her mouth with gusto. “You’re the best, you know that?” she said between mouthfuls.

  Isadora glanced at Eleonora who had a bright smile. She took a handkerchief and dabbed the crumbs off of Eleonora's lips. . “I am merely doing my duty", Isadora replied gracefully, feeling the warm affection she had for the girl tightened in her chest.

  Eleonora beamed at Isadora and said “well, I’m glad it’s you", as she pulled Isadora in for a hug

  After a moment Isadora cleared her throat and pulled out the hug. So, she could stand up and began packing away the meal. “I believe it time to mount up, my lady, Hagian awaits us," Isadora declared.

  Eleonora hopped to her feet, renewed and cheerful as ever, and swung back into the saddle. Isadora followed suit and they continued on their way.

  As they continued along the road they passed through rural farmland for the rest of the day, passing farmers guiding plows, drovers herding stubborn livestock, and the occasional merchant wagon bound for the city.

  As evening crept in and the road grew quiet, they stopped at a modest roadside inn. Having chosen to rest for the night so they might reach Hagian in daylight. The next morning, both of them were refreshed and eager to finally make it to Hagian.

  Hagian was an ancient city though not as ancient as Willowvale Manor.

  It had begun as a fortified trading post built around a dungeon. There are many theories on dungeons and their purpose, however they always provided great boons to a settlement if they could be tamed.

  Providing a safe place to train and an endless supply of monster hide, metal, enchanted goods and many other resources. Thus, merchants, adventurers, and opportunists had gathered there early on to delve into the dungeon.

  Further aiding the settlements' quick growth, was its position along the Tiwala River, a steady tributary feeding into the greater Kondisa River some three hundred miles to the south.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The city had once been the proud capital of the pre-Imperial kingdom that ruled the region before its conquest, and that legacy still clung to it like stubborn ivy on ancient stone.

  Though the Empire had long since redrawn borders to better suit its own administration, Hagian remained the administrative heart of the modern ducal province of Willowvale, serving as its ducal capital.

  The city of Hagian itself rose on a broad bluff overlooking the river, its districts built as if they were stepping down from the top of the bluff. At the top of the bluff the former royal palace still dominated the Upper Old Town’s skyline.

  With its aged fortifications looming over the district as a constant reminder of its past sovereignty. However, it was no longer the seat of kings, but instead had become the center of imperial bureaucracy for the province.

  It was there that Eleonora’s elder brother, Maximinus, and his family resided. He had assumed the bulk of the province’s administrative duties, allowing their father to enjoy a comfortable semi-retirement at the family’s ancestral seat.

  The city of Hagian was divided into three distinct districts.

  The Upper Old Town, Lower Old Town, and New Town distracts.

  Upper Old Town crowned the bluff, its narrow streets and stout stone buildings originally packed tightly together, remnants of an era when defense mattered more than comfort.

  Over the last century, its streets had been widened to suit the district's new wealthy residents. From its heights, one could look down over the river’s winding course and the busy docks below.

  Lower Old Town lay at river level, clustered around the port where barges and riverboats unloaded their cargo. The smell of wet wood, fish, and trade lingered constantly there, and its streets were broader, muddier, and far louder than those above, with a fair amount of industry.

  New Town was the youngest of the three districts, built after the imperial conquest and wedged neatly between the old city walls and the newer, more expansive imperial fortifications.

  Its buildings were built on a grid system, a testament to imperial surveyors and engineers who preferred efficiency over all else. At the center of the district was the Church of our Lady, a large cathedral built for the worship of the empire's new god.

  The New Town district was home to the vast majority of Hagian’s citizens. Before the Imperial conquest, the city’s population had hovered at roughly thirty thousand souls.

  In the centuries since, Hagian had swollen to nearly one hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants, impressive, though still far from making it one of the Empire’s great metropolises. Of these, more than ninety thousand lived within New Town alone.

  In the present day, Hagian also served as a major link to the eastern frontier and an important stopping point along the river trade routes. Just fifty miles to the north, the Tiwala River widened into Lake Caligara, fed by snowmelt from the Dofgar Mountains, a low laying but rugged mountain range.

  Goods traveled up the river by barge to Hagian. They were then unloaded and sorted in Hagian’s river port, before being sent eastward by road toward the frontier settlements.

  Eleonora and Isadora reached the city of Haigian in the middle of the morning, just as the morning bustle of the city's traffic was reaching a crescendo. Haigian’s walls rose before them as tall, grey sentinels of stone, their crenellations crowned with stout guard towers.

  Imperial banners snapped smartly in the morning breeze, their bright colors standing in sharp contrast to the muted stone beneath.

  The great gates stood wide open to greet the day, already choked with the morning rush. Merchants urged laden carts forward, wheels creaking under the weight of grain, timber, and crates bound for distant markets.

  Drovers drove livestock through with practiced shouts, while traders, messengers, adventures, and weary travelers wove among them like a living current. The air was thick with overlapping smells from the travelers, the city, and the cargo heading into the city. While the sound of a hundred conversations blended into a constant, lively roar.

  Eleonora trotted eagerly toward the gate, Lady Sparkles prancing beneath her in a manner that was decidedly undignified for a warhorse but perfectly suited her rider’s boundless enthusiasm. Ribbons fluttered on Lady Sparkle's mane and Eleonora's polished armor gleamed.

  This created quite the spectacle.

  Isadora followed a short distance behind on Speed, her posture rigidly straight, her expression carved from pure stone. They had deliberately avoided the noble gate, so Eleonora’s brother wouldn't know she had arrived.

  Once the guards spotted the spectacle that was Eleonora, they didn't know what to think. Her golden braided hair fell saintly down her back and her finely engraved armor looked more like some foppish fools idea of ceremonial armor.

  Worse was her cheerful expression radiating unearned confidence.

  One guard’s lips twitched. Another went red in the face and snorted despite himself.

  A third hastily turned away, clapping a hand over his mouth as if seized by a sudden cough.

  All three were ready to burst into riotous laughter at the sight of Eleonora, until they saw Isadora.

  Her calm, dark eyes narrowed only a fraction, just barely perceptible to the human eye.

  But the meaning was unmistakable, if you laugh, you die.

  The guards snapped to attention so quickly it was a wonder no one strained something.

  Their throats were cleared loudly and they schooled their faces into expressions of professional neutrality.

  The standard questions were asked, while papers briefly inspected, and the required two copper entrance fee was collected with all the solemnity of a military tribunal.

  On the Elves of the Imperial Heartland-

  Excerpt from A Concise Ethnography of Imperial Peoples by Valerius Garby

  Among the many peoples who now dwell beneath the banners of the Empire, few possess a history as ancient or as quietly tragic as the elves. Long before mankind laid the first stones of its cities the elves raised temples and palaces woven with great magic in what is now the Imperial heartland. Their civilizations flourished for millennia beyond precise reckoning, sustained by sorcery, longevity, and an inward-looking cultural confidence that once seemed eternal.

  Yet history is merciless even to the eldest of races. Several thousand years before the founding of the Empire, the elven kingdoms entered a long and irreversible decline. The precise causes remain debated among scholars but what is certain is that their realms collapsed, fragmenting into scattered communities. These remnants were gradually supplanted by the rising kingdoms of men, who expanded, settled, and claimed dominion over lands the elves no longer had the numbers to defend.

  In the centuries before Imperial unification, elves lived largely as Jitok a term used to describe semi-autonomous, isolated enclaves existing at the sufferance of the surrounding human polities. These communities were permitted to govern their internal affairs but remained dependent upon the goodwill, tolerance, or neglect of their hosts. Even then, elven society retained its ancient custom of electing leaders. Most often powerful mages chosen not by bloodline, but by perceived wisdom and arcane strength.

  The rise of the Empire marked a turning point. During the Great Conquest under Empress Theodora, many elven communities cast their lot decisively with the imperial cause. Contrary to later provincial myths, the elves were not passive subjects absorbed by force, but active supporters who recognized in the Empire a structure capable of guaranteeing stability, rights, and continuity. Several elven mages and commanders distinguished themselves during the campaigns, lending their talents to logistics, battlefield sorcery, and governance.

  Foremost among these figures was Serphania the Serpent Slayer, whose deeds require little embellishment. Still living at the time of this writing, Serphania serves as head of the Imperial Guard and stands among the exceedingly rare S-rank adventurers.

  In the modern Empire, elves are counted among the Five Races granted full imperial citizenship, with all attendant rights and obligations. Yet despite this legal equality, their numbers continue to dwindle. Pure blooded elves have become a rarity outside of a handful of enclaves, and most imperial subjects will encounter half elves far more often than full blooded ones.