The convoy continued north.
The wind and snow gradually grew cleaner and sharper, and a familiar chill entered the air.
When Frost Glaive City appeared on the horizon, Varius instinctively narrowed his eyes.
This had once been the heart of the Northern Frontier.
He had visited several times in his youth. The city had weathered countless battles, its walls repeatedly repaired, its districts torn open like wounds and barely stitched together again.
Everyone hurried along, their eyes wary, as though the next horn might sound at any moment.
Even then, of course, it had been a major stronghold of the Northern Frontier, but it had always been a city dragged forward by war.
What he saw now, however, was nothing like that.
The walls were taller, yet did not look bulky.
The streets were broad and straight, the snow promptly cleared and piled into neat banks along either side.
Pedestrians walked at an unhurried pace. Shop signs were uniform and restrained, without the hysterical extravagance of the Imperial Capital.
What surprised him most was the temperature inside the city.
The bitter wind was kept outside, while pipes along the streets steadily released warm air.
Even away from a fire, he could feel a steady warmth rising beneath his feet.
Varius stood at a street corner, momentarily lost in thought.
The city was grander than on any visit he remembered, and more like a truly living capital than the Imperial Capital was now.
They were not allowed to linger. The next day, they were led north of the city.
An enormous building unlike anything they had ever seen stood there.
Heavy concrete walls extended outward, with exposed steel reinforcement and no ornamentation, emphasizing function alone.
The half-enclosed dome seemed built to accommodate some colossal creature.
Varius lowered his gaze to the