Thelara had become a place of whispers, marvel, and amazement.
It was no longer just a small village nestled in a quiet corner of the continent — it was the very pulse of progress, and everyone who came to witness it could feel it. Adventurers, nobles, children, and merchants alike all found themselves drawn to this vibrant city, and each of them left with stories that were hard to believe, but impossible to forget.
"Hah... this is paradise."
Balthor, a seasoned adventurer who had crossed more lands than he cared to count, stood at the entrance of one of Thelara's Japanese-style bathing houses, his eyes wide with disbelief.
He had seen plenty of bathhouses in his time, some even grand in their own right, but this… this was different.
Crafted with fine cedarwood, the walls of the bathhouse exuded a soft, warm aroma that melted the tension before even entering. Steam curled up from the bubbling waters, glistening under floating orbs of soft light. The heat enveloped him like a familiar embrace.
This is luxury beyond any land I've seen...
He lowered himself into the water with a sigh, feeling his battle-worn body relax in a way it never had before.
Further in, the saunas were dark, cozy, and filled with a blend of soothing herbs. The air was thick and hot, yet purifying. It wasn't just a bath — it was healing.
If every kingdom treated its people like this... maybe there'd be no need for adventurers anymore.
On the other end of the city, Lady Elira of Zeba stepped through the marble archway of Thelara's art gallery. Her eyes widened the moment she entered.
She had visited royal galleries from Torent to Ethelifa, but none matched the life that pulsed in Thelara's collection.
Each painting seemed to whisper a story. Each sculpture breathed elegance. Light filtered through glass murals above, casting rainbows across polished stone floors. Every corner of the hall bore the subtle touch of nobility — the hand of Scarlet.
The etiquette was pristine. The staff, clad in silken uniforms, moved with grace. The guests, even nobles from distant cities, felt humbled.
This place... it has soul, Lady Elira thought, her heart swelling. Elegance here isn't forced. It flows naturally.
Meanwhile, a young boy named Rene from Quban trailed behind a group of children entering Thelara's academy.
School had always been boring back home — dusty books, endless dictation, magic lessons that barely sparked. But here…
His jaw dropped.
Floating chalkboards danced with glowing symbols. Students learned through interactive magic and tech-craft hybrids. Classrooms shimmered with clean enchantments, soft lights, and warm wood flooring. Even the desks adjusted height to match each student.
"Whoa… look at that!" Rene pointed to a levitating model of the solar system spinning above the astronomy class.
Children laughed, experimented, and practiced spells openly. Teachers encouraged curiosity. Even mages walked the halls like friendly mentors, not intimidating scholars.
Learning here... it's fun. This feels like a real adventure!
Not far from the academy, Cyrus, a wealthy merchant from Martha, stood amidst the crowd in Thelara's central marketplace.
He was stunned.
Booths sprawled out like rivers, overflowing with rare silks, enchanted trinkets, spices, armor, and tech-infused gadgets. Each item shimmered with craftsmanship.
But what impressed him most was the order.
Security was tight, yet subtle. When a thief attempted to steal a jewel-studded bracelet, he was intercepted in seconds. Not a hair out of place. The guards were trained, calm, and efficient.
How do they manage this? Cyrus narrowed his eyes. There's no chaos. Everything is... perfect.
No haggling, no scams. Prices were marked. Quality was guaranteed. Even the sellers wore uniformed badges, assuring legitimacy. It was a merchant's dream — and nightmare — depending on which side you stood on.
They know how to make money… but without stepping on the poor.
In a quieter district, Mira, a pale woman from Torent, lay on a cot inside Thelara's Healing Sanctuary.
She had lost hope weeks ago. Her sickness was rare, and even the finest healers of her homeland had failed her.
But Thelara... Thelara offered something else.
The healer beside her, a young woman with gentle eyes, softly touched her forehead. A magical circle activated beneath the bed, pulsing in rhythm with Mira's breath. The room smelled of crushed mint and sacred oils.
Her pain... was fading.
Her strength... returning.
Tears welled in her eyes. "I… I thought I was dying," she whispered.
The healer smiled. "You were, but not anymore. The light of Thelara reaches deeper than illness."
Hope. That was what Thelara had truly given her.
Weeks passed, and the name of Thelara continued to echo across the lands.
Then, one morning, the kings of the five major cities received a grand parchment scroll, sealed with an elegant crest.
Gold-trimmed, with ink made from moonlight and raven feathers, it carried a single, powerful message:
"To the honored rulers of our allied kingdoms,
You are cordially invited to a grand celebration in the heart of Thelara —
To witness not only the prosperity we've built together,
But also the sacred union of two hearts who made it possible.
The Marriage Ceremony of Nova & Scarlet.
Let it mark not just love, but the future of a united world."**
Gasps, murmurs, and excitement spread across the continent.
The Kingdom of Thelara had risen from forgotten soil to become the dream of nations. Now, the world would gather not for war… but for celebration.
And beneath the rising sun, as bells rang in distant cities, one message rang clear:
The future is being built — and it begins in Thelara.