The two moved forward, their footsteps steady as they joined the long line winding through the cavernous hall. The air buzzed faintly with an undercurrent of magic, a subtle hum that seemed to pulse beneath the stone floor. They stood shoulder to shoulder with a crowd of travelers, their faces a mixture of weariness and anticipation.
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, their turn finally arrived. The official behind the counter met their eyes with a practiced calmness.
"Please state the destination," he said, voice flat but clear.
"To the capital," Faera answered, his tone measured and steady, betraying none of the flutter in his chest.
The official nodded without expression. "Then please stand there, pay and wait for your turn." He gestured toward a cluster of people gathered near a simple table tucked in the corner.
Faera inclined his head and moved quietly toward the indicated spot. Edmund followed closely, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the worn walls and the faint glow of magic circling the floor. A man sat behind the table, his face shadowed but alert, with a modest stack of papers neatly arranged before him.
Faera approached the man without hesitation. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew six thousand pounds in crisp bills. His fingers brushed the worn leather of the pouch before drawing out the money.
"I want to pay for two people named Faera and Edmund," he said softly.
The man nodded silently, his movements efficient and practiced. He took the money, placing it carefully in a small drawer beneath the table. Then, with a steady hand, he wrote the two names on separate pieces of paper. Each slip was stamped with a heavy seal, the wax warm and sticky before he rolled the papers tightly.
Faera took the rolled papers and handed one to Edmund.
Together, they joined the others who waited. The room felt vast and alive, the heavy air rippling with the faint glow of magic circles etched deep into the stone floor. Every few moments, a group of travelers would vanish into the shimmering portals, their forms blurring before disappearing entirely. New groups would appear elsewhere, stepping out of the light with expressions ranging from relief to nausea.
Time stretched and folded, each minute marked by the steady rhythm of arrivals and departures. The brothers stood close, their bodies tense with anticipation. Faera's mind drifted to the stories he had heard of these magical passage, how they could twist the senses, how some succumbed to sickness on arrival.
He glanced at Edmund, who seemed less affected, his face pale but determined.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity compressed into seven minutes, the official motioned for them to step forward.
"Advance to the middle of the room," he instructed, voice unwavering.
The brothers moved together to the center of the giant chamber, where the most intricate magic circles glowed with a fierce inner light. The patterns were complex, layers of runes and symbols spiraling outward like the petals of a great, luminous flower.
Without a word, the official handed each of them a small bag. The brothers knew exactly what it meant.
Edmund held his bag tightly, eyes narrowin. Faera's fingers curled around the soft leather, feeling the faint pulse of magic within.
The symbols on the floor flared to life, the air thickening with the pure essence of Shen. The light intensified, blinding and sharp. Then, in a dizzying rush, the standing travelers began to vanish, their forms dissolving into threads of light.
Faera felt his own body unraveling, the world spinning wildly before solidifying again.
They had arrived.
The other side was a mirror of the first, yet utterly different. The vast room was filled with a harsh scent of travel and the sharp tang of magic lingering in the air.
Almost immediately, many travelers clutched their bags, retching violently. The sharp waves of nausea rippled through the crowd. But the brothers only felt a mild queasiness, their bodies strong and resilient enough to withstand the worst of the passage's effects.
'We are lucky,' Faera thought, steadying his breath.
A figure approached, checking papers with a scrutinizing gaze. When the official confirmed their identities, he spoke with a formal tone.
"We welcome you to the capital, ladies and gentlemen."
Most of the travelers ignored the greeting, pushing past and leaving the vast building without a backward glance.
Faera and Edmund lingered, taking a moment to absorb their surroundings.
Beyond the exit, the capital sprawled in all directions, a dazzling mosaic of architecture and history. The buildings rose in grandeur, their facades a blend of styles from many eras, each structure a testament to the city's long and storied past.
The designs were breath-taking, ornate carvings, soaring spires, and delicate balconies that seemed to defy gravity. The craftsmanship was impeccable, surpassing even that of the Red City. The streets bustled with life, merchants calling out their wares, nobles moving with purpose, and common folk weaving through the throng.
Edmund's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Let's go to the Hunters' Association!" he said, voice almost trembling.
Faera nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. He closed his eyes briefly, summoning the detailed map of the capital he had memorized from a map. The streets and landmarks unfolded in his mind like a living puzzle.
When he opened his eyes, they gleamed with quiet determination. "Let's go, Ed. I found it."
Together, they stepped forward, blending into the vibrant pulse of the capital, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them.
---
The two brothers quickened their pace, their footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestone streets as they navigated the winding paths of the capital. The air was crisp, carrying the mingled scents of fresh rain and distant fires from the city's bustling heart. Faera glanced at Edmund, whose expression was a mixture of determination and quiet anticipation.
'This is it,' Faera thought, 'the first step toward becoming Hunters.'
After some time, the imposing shape of the Hunters' Association headquarters came into view, standing proudly near the place where they had arrived.
The building was immense, dominating the surroundings with its grandeur. It rose four floors high, each level stretching over three hundred meters in width. Its walls gleamed a brilliant white, almost blinding in the sunlight, while the intricate black lining traced elegant patterns that framed every window and doorway.
It was a masterpiece of architecture, a symbol befitting the capital of the vast kingdom of Braza.
Faera's eyes traced the building's outline, admiring the craftsmanship. 'Only a kingdom as powerful as Braza could afford such a headquarters,' he mused.
The black lines, sharp and precise, contrasted with the pure white surfaces, giving the structure a timeless elegance. It looked almost like a fortress of light and shadow, a fitting home for those who hunted the dangers lurking beyond the city walls.
The brothers approached the large open door, its towering wooden frame carved with symbols of past Hunters.
As they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The air buzzed with quiet energy, filled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of armor. Around them, many Hunters moved about, each adorned in armor of varied design and bearing weapons that glinted in the soft light. Some wore heavy plate, others light leather, and a few carried strange artifacts that hummed faintly with magic.
He stepped forward confidently and approached a service counter where a middle-aged man sat, his face marked by years of routine and fatigue.
"Hello there," Faera said clearly. "My brother and I want to become Hunters, and we are ready to take the test."
The man looked up slowly, his eyes heavy with boredom. His gaze lingered on them briefly before he replied in a slow, almost indifferent voice, "Please pay a thousand pounds per person and give me the names."
Faera nodded without hesitation and reached into his pocket. He pulled out two shining coins, smooth and heavy, and placed them on the counter.
"Faera and Edmund," he said.
The man scribbled the names on a piece of paper with a dull expression, then carefully rolled the sheet into a scroll. He handed it to Faera and said, "Go up to the second floor. You will find the testing room. Hand them the paper, and they will begin testing you."
As Faera and Edmund turned toward the circular wooden staircase, the low murmur of voices drifted down from the floor below.
The brothers ascended, the steps creaking softly beneath their feet. The polished wood was smooth and warm, worn from countless feet over the years. At each turn, Faera felt the weight of expectation pressing upon him, but he held his head high.
Upon reaching the second floor, they found themselves in a long hallway lined with many rooms. Each door bore a wooden plaque with an engraved name, worn but legible. The corridor smelled faintly of old parchment and wax, a reminder that this place had seen generations of hopeful Hunters.
The two moved slowly along the hallway, their eyes scanning the signs. They passed by rooms for various purposes, but their attention fixed on the door marked simply as the testing room. The door stood open, revealing a modest chamber bathed in soft light.
Edmund stepped forward and knocked lightly. They entered quietly together.
Inside, a young woman stood beside a curious device that resembled a measuring instrument. It was made of polished wood and metal, with a circular dial and a sturdy frame. The machine seemed designed to gauge strength or magical power.
The woman noticed their entrance and smiled faintly. "Oh, you want to take the test?" she asked with a hint of curiosity.
Faera nodded silently and handed her the rolled paper. She unrolled it and glanced at the names, then motioned toward the device. "Punch it with your strongest strength," she instructed. "And if you are a magician, cast a spell."
Faera stepped forward, his mind focusing. Instead of throwing a punch, he summoned his magic and cast a second rank spell, the Shadow Arrows.
Dark, slender arrows materialized in the air and shot swiftly toward the machine. They struck with speed and precision, but despite their impact, the device remained unscathed, humming steadily.
The young woman adjusted her glasses, her eyes narrowing as if trying to catch something invisible. "You must be a magician of the shadow element, am I right?" she guessed.
"Shadow," Faera confirmed quietly.
Numbers flickered onto the machine's dial: 629.
The woman noted the figure in her book, nodding. "Second rank mage, then. Please let the other one come forward."
Faera stepped back and gestured for Edmund to take his place.
Edmund squared his shoulders and moved forward, ready to face the challenge.