The sea appeared first.
After days of winding roads through mountain passes and mist-choked valleys, the horizon broke wide.
The ocean stretched endless and blue, its waves striking the cliffs like drums of war. Spray leapt into the air and glittered in the hard light of afternoon.
And there, rising from those cliffs like a crown forged by storms, was Valkoron.
Aurelia leaned forward, her breath fogging the small window of the carriage. The stronghold was no mere city.
Its towers did not look built but torn upward by lightning, pale spires twisting as if clawing at the sky.
Stormglass tipped their peaks, shards of crystal that flared white whenever the sun struck them, so that the whole citadel shimmered as though alive.
Great stone bridges yawned between towers, massive and terrifying, as if daring the winds to tear them down. Above all flew the thunderbird of House Stormborne, its wings spread wide, glaring down on all who approached.
