The King Trials.

~Sorcia~

Sorcia

Because of course.

I can already smell the briny scent of the ocean breeze.

Sorcia is one of the largest conurbations in Urium that is situated on high land right by the sea. It bears one of the most lucrative ports and harbours, with inter-realm trade junction points where various modes of transport interchange; loading and discharging the transit of goods. Their economy thrives on the commodities of both exported and imported supplies.

I look down at the head on my lap. Vince slumbering serenely.

Cannot have that now, can we?

With a flattened hand, I beat it on his forehead lightly, tapping incessantly. Frustration rousing him awake. Reaching a peak, he swats my hand away, heaving his eyes open. Thick brows collide.

The carriage jerks from side to side. "What—" his arm snaps out to grip the headboard for stability, "are you doing?"

"We are here, sleeping beauty," I say with a dry smile.

Solaris stirs beside me, moving himself to an upright position, running both hands through his tousled yellowy mane. "Where's here?" He asks through a yawn.

"Sorcia."

A thrill brightens Vince's face. Mirth glinting in his eyes, hauling up to sit straight. My back presses against the headboard as the carriage travels up on a line of ascent. He rubs both eyes, scarlet fades beneath them.

"Sorcia?" Solaris's voice is tight. "We...arrived at the High King's dominion at the second equinox... moons have passed since then." Calculations flit through his eyes. "Which means we should have reached the fons equinox."

Remembrance strikes me, my face slackening. "The cycle nears the median, so it must be the time of Rathul. The time of their barbaric sports."

Vince lets out a chuckle that lasts two heartbeats. "Fascinating."

 I glance at him askance. "Fascinating. Do such sports intrigue you?" My hand flies up to interject. "Right, of course, you are of Emikrol. I am certain that the Empire hosts such events periodically."

Without looking at me, he says, "You are wrong, Hera." His tone rough, words brusque. "We host  them weekly, with designated edifices for such barbaric entertainment." A distinct note of affront in his voice.

My face eases into a neutral look, crumples unfolding. "I never meant to offend nor to judge."

Still shunning my gaze, he says, "And yet you did both. There is a reason why Emikrol and Sorcia are great allies. Both in trade and combat."

The Emikrol Empire is an independent domain, nevertheless, it respects the reign of the High King, but they are not bound by the edicts and laws issued by His Majesty. As well as the decisions both vetted and congealed by the High Tribunal.

Whereas Sorcia is under the High King's banner.

Eventually, we reach the inside of the city. All the roads are congested with riders, carriages, and throngs of people filtering through. I deem it quite a paradox that beings with morbid inclinations can both craft and build such unparalleled beauty. With an ancient panache grafted into their designs.

The architecture comprises columns and lintels based on massive walls, punctuated by arches and domes with Doric styles and tall orders with the floral decoration of Corinthian. The grandeur of their buildings is both in the interior as it is external that relies on the post and intel system.