Golden light pierced the Clouds and spilled across the bay.
Free City appeared on the horizon. White Dragons wheeled through the sky like seagulls, bathed in shafts of light that cast their forms into sharp relief.
The bustling Free Port had not spoiled Golden Bay's beauty or purity. Dumping rubbish into the sea carried a penalty, while farmers at the port would pay for excrement. Merchants who would split a Gold Narl in two before spending it naturally chose the latter.
Annan had been away for three months. The most striking changes were a solemn building rising from the ground and a narrow river flowing past it.
The building was the Street Sweeper Base, nearly complete after more than two months of construction.
The Centurion had initially wanted to reject Olmedo's proposal and keep the base underground. But after Olmedo showed her four Arcane Cores and a Mountain Copper foundation, the Centurion fell silent. She remarked that Annan was indeed a lord who had been driven here by the Rat Tide.
"What do you mean?"
"Put kindly, Annan knows exactly how Ratfolk operate. Put less kindly, he's terrified of dying."
The river was a project Annan had personally approved. A stream had been diverted from the Forest Mountains to run past the Northern Farmland and Free City, solving their water shortage.
Wanting his homecoming to feel like one, Annan had asked Dean Breichim not to take him straight to the City Lord's Mansion. Instead, he appeared on Coastal Street.
The people on the street welcomed Annan warmly. Half called him Jack; the rest called him Potter and Dracula.
Five Hundred Years of Terror had only been showing for three days, but it had left a deep impression.
Guards came to clear a path through the crowd. Annan followed the street