Snowblind {complete}

Dry - First City

When Lanna saw the First City, words failed her.

She had seen plenty of settlements on her journey, and many had been in the low numbers. The previous night they had lodged in Sixteen. To her mind, the town was larger than any had a right to be: so many people and buildings of multiple levels that cut out the sunlight. And the smell – pungent and lingering. Even though they had stayed in the merchant ring, she could still detect the sharp scent of the brewery, tanners and smelters in the lower areas of the town.

She had disliked Sixteen and wondered if the First City, the supposed cradle of civilisation, was the same, but Frez had almost swallowed his tongue when she put the idea to him.

'Never compare the First City to a hole like this,' he growled.

It was called the First City for a reason.

The windblown cliff-line her bird stood on gave her an excellent view of the valley and the sprawling city below. Houses, roads, streets, parkland, with farms beyond a wall that encircled the entire settlement. Nothing natural remained, every scrap of land used.

A domed spire in the centre drew her eye. It dwarfed the wooden buildings around it, its white stone sparkling in the warm mid-morning sun. The spire appeared to grow out of the ground. There were no sharp angles, only sinuous curves and smooth slopes.

'That's the temple,' Epen whispered to her left. She spared him half a glance. His hard, dark features expressed the same awe hers did, though he must have seen the city from this vantage point before. She turned to gaze again on what humans could achieve at the pinnacle of their power.

Not far from the temple lay the Imperial Palace. Made of stone like the temple, but lower, longer and not one single building. Instead, there were numerous ornate structures – more than she could count at a distance. Stretches of green separated the buildings and serpentine paths crisscrossed each other, canals and channels shining in blue ribbons. A large lake dominated the south of the palace grounds, complete with sailboats. She wondered how she would ever find her way around a place so large.

'I never knew people could build such things.'

'They can't,' Epen replied. 'Not anymore.'

Lanna winced. Had the lost cities of the clans been like the one below her? She would never know. No one would. The First City was all that remained of the time before the wars.

Her gaze moved from the splendour of the old city to view the spread of human habitation surrounding it. The contrast between the organic style of the ancient buildings and the wooden, block-like, red-tiled buildings in the outer city jarred her eyes. So many rooftops. Some decorated and delicately tapered in the merchant's ring. Others were bowed and uneven in the worker's ring.

Epen cleared his throat to get her attention. 'Misra,' he announced. 'We must be moving on.'

She pulled a face and sighed. Taking orders from Chowa was one thing, but Epen's orders rubbed up against her pride. He could at least say 'please' instead of assuming her acceptance. Lanna moved through the ritual of mounting her bird: lifting her divided riding skirts and checking that her legs were still bound tightly by thick strips of linen from ankle to hip.

She approached her kelen with slow steps; the large, white-feathered birds had a vile temper. It was a shame they looked like a giant ball of fluff on legs; she was always inclined to hug them. The long neck and razor-sharp bill of her bird – Prickle – turned towards her and the beady black eyes, half lost in the downy white feathers, fixed on her.

Once mounted, Prickle moved into a swift trot, his gait rolling from side to side like the rocking of a boat on choppy seas. She let her upper body relax and sway but kept her head still. A kelen had to respect its rider or it would refuse to let them mount. As she liked her eyes in her head, rather than in a bird's stomach, Lanna was sure to make Prickle aware she liked him and was thankful for the opportunity to ride him.