By the time the sun had fully risen, the group finally set their sights on the city of Alta-the bustling port city and capital of Philippos, a colony of the Kingdom of Leon.
As they neared the city, the quiet wheat fields they had passed earlier gave way to the waking village nestled just outside Alta's walls.
This settlement was home to farmers, artisans, and laborers-those without the coin or status to live within Alta itself.
Thatched-roof homes and wooden shacks clustered together, with smoke rising from chimneys as the day began.
Villagers bustled about drawing water, tending animals, or preparing food, while children darted between laundry lines and garden plots, their laughter mingling with the morning breeze.
A few villagers paused their work as Laya's group passed, wary eyes following their every move.
One woman quickly pulled her child out of view, and a man cast a lingering glance at the winged figures among them.
The tension in the air was subtle but undeniable.
As they continued along the path, the humble village yielded to the imposing presence of Alta.
Towering stone walls encircled the city, extending into the sea like an unyielding barrier.
At the entrance, a massive wooden gate stood proudly, its surface adorned with intricate carvings.
On either side of the gate, guards in gleaming chainmail kept a vigilant watch.
A line of carriages and merchants stretched before them, each waiting their turn to pass.
A horse whinnied as its handler struggled to calm it, the beast growing restless from the long wait.
Vendors muttered among themselves, bartering prices and exchanging coin.
Nearby, beastfolk labored in silence, hauling crates and scrubbing stone-most clad in coarse tunics, some bearing faint, unfamiliar markings on their skin.
Barefoot children wove through the crowd while beggars sat against the walls, hands outstretched in silent plea.
As Laya's group stepped forward to join the queue, a sudden commotion stirred among the crowd.
Whispers escalated into murmurs, and a few startled vendors glanced at one another in alarm.
Sensing the disturbance, a young guard, his helmet tucked under his arm, stepped forward from the ranks.
His uneven haircut and tired expression betrayed a long shift.
His eyes swept over the group, lingering just a second too long on Laya's and Rin's wings.
"Business?" he asked in a flat, disinterested tone.
"Drachenstein Mansion," Laya replied confidently.
Lyndis stepped forward, producing a set of papers from her briefcase and handing them over.
The guard took them and, instead of offering a cursory glance, his eyes slowly moved over the documents.
His brow furrowed as he glanced over his shoulder, seeking confirmation from another guard.
A second, older soldier approached, his face hard and unreadable. "Didn't see you for a few months?" the older guard grunted.
Laya's posture remained poised, her grip on Archus tightening ever so slightly. "Visited my mother at the Forests," she replied evenly.
"Hmph," the older guard grunted again, glancing between them and the papers. "And the kid?"
"My son," Laya responded, her tone unwavering.
The younger guard hesitated, his fingers tightening on the documents before finally handing them back.
"Alright," he muttered as he stepped back. "Make way, people!" he called out, pushing aside the merchants and townsfolk ahead of them.
Almost imperceptibly, the crowd shifted-a subtle ripple of resentment.
The whispers resumed, now sharper: a merchant scoffed and shook his head, while a nobleman with a hornbill insignia on his fine robes turned away, as if their presence had tainted the air itself.
Though the line quickly reformed, the lingering hostility clung to the atmosphere.