The snow thinned as Modret and Axel descended the quietly winding path.
Before long, the faint shimmer of lanterns emerged through the mist, and the vague silhouette of a sprawling city appeared beyond the valley.
"The City of Velanor," Axel murmured quietly, his tone filled with nostalgia. "It's been years since I last came here."
"You came here before?" Modret asked curiously.
Axel nodded, "I wanted to get a feel for what the outside world far from the Axarel Manor felt like."
"I see."
Modret's eyes lingered on the distant gates — the people bustling, merchants calling, laughter echoing faintly through the wind.
Taking a light step, he approached the gate where four guards were stationed, with Axel following close behind him.
Soon, they reached the gate. And as they did, the guards immediately sharpened their gazes, staring at the unfamiliar men in front of them.
A guard's gaze lingered on Modret's ragged clothes and clicked his tongue.
