In the mystical realm of the White Kingdom, citizens begin to awaken extraordinary magical powers - and some even twice, with enough determination. This surge of supernatural abilities unsettles the ruling class, who initiate a dark era of witch hun...
Severigo set aside the scroll and leaned back against the bench, gazing into the eyes of his beloved, in which the golden flickers of candles danced merrily.
"Do you know where Irmar is?" he asked her.
"Today, children are taught that there is nothing beyond the Desert of the Dead to the west. But I know that the richest land lies yonder, where all pearl swords and armor are forged from the ores mined there, and the azure shores in those realms are strewn with lustrous pearls and golden nuggets," Nayana mused.
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"There was a time when Sinlad considered Irmar a part of its own dominion. It was our most prosperous colony; the foundation of our wealth. Now, only the most desperate traders venture there, and scarce few return. Thus, their wares are highly prized and claimed to be talismans of great power. I am certain you have heard of the Cantarian miraclists," said Severigo.
"Indeed. The markets are abuzz with tales of their exploits, flying hither and yon, turning stones into gold, while merchants sell trinkets from the west at thrice their value. Sometimes, they offer baubles of steel burnt to a deep blue, adorned with a mere droplet of white gold. Yet, I tell you frankly, the minds of those in the bazaars are none too sharp. Many cast a coin across their threshold at sunset to appease the Ghost Merchant. And on windy days, they set out a bowl of milk with saffron to ward off the wicked spirits of Noskor. I would sooner trust the freshness of their most rotten fish than heed these bazaar whispers of miraclists from the west."
"Without a doubt, the Noskor thugs and the Ghost Merchants are most ordinary folk. Yet the tales of the Cantarians have been spread by a multitude of wanderers who have ventured to Irmar, and all tell the same story."
"Do you believe they can truly fly?" Nayana's finely arched ebony brow mischievously crept upward.
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"I am a man of science, I do not believe in anything until it is proven, and I do not rule anything out until it is refuted. Permit me to share a tale, and you will draw conclusions – The official chronicle declares that Noskor lost interest in Irmar due to the strengthening of Els, the center of the pearl-steel casting, which became formidable enough to resist any invasion, and so independent as to no longer rely upon Sinlad. Yet, no science is more fickle than history. The demand for pearl steel has risen to such heights that pearl armor now brings more harm than good to its bearers. A man clad in full armor might be easily slain. The commanders of Noskor even blacken their breastplates while our mercenaries conceal their armor beneath cloth to hide its value. If every warrior of Irmar wore such armor, Noskor would marshal all its forces to conquer Irmar for the sake of the spoils of war alone," Severigo continued.
