Chương 2: A Brand Old World

Gloria dropped straight down, and as she fell, the back of her head slammed against the jagged edge of the stone she had just been standing on. The impact should've easily cracked her skull open, and yet instead only the very stone took the damage. Partially because of that, her mind turned cloudy, trying to process too many new and strange occurrences at the same time. However, that numbness shattered the instant the ground far below began hurtling straight toward her at a great speed.

Pure panic flooded her as she tried to scream, yet no sound left her throat, as her face refused to show a single sign of fear. In a surprisingly elegant way, Gloria did the only thing she could think of, and threw her wings wide, slamming them downward with every ounce of strength she possessed, producing an effect that was nothing short of catastrophic. A thunderous crack split the air as her wings struck, making the entire section of the mountainside near her explode outward.

The pure force of that single flap sent a shockwave rolling across the cliff face, tearing away trees and loose boulders in a wave of destruction, sending even massive chunks of stone hurtling into the air. Gloria herself was launched upward, the world dropping away beneath her at a speed that was near instantaneous. The wind roared in her ears as she rocketed higher and higher, the mountain shrinking rapidly below.

In the space of a few heartbeats she had already climbed so far that the entire mountain had shrunk to the size of a pebble sitting in a field. She kept rising and rising, all the way until the air grew thinner and colder, and she found herself higher than the drifting white clouds. Only then did she gain clarity and calm her mind. She reached back instinctively, fingers brushing over the spot where her head had slammed into the stone.

A soft laugh escaped her after realizing there was not a drop of blood there, and it quickly deepened, merging with the richer, more resonant voice.

"Hahaha! For a dragon to be scared of heights and simple stone, how foolish of me!" She was laughing when she realized how natural this felt. Her wings were spread wide on either side of her, catching the wind with perfect ease. The massive black bones moved exactly as she wanted them to, responding to thoughts she barely had to form. Wanting to test it further, Gloria angled her body and let herself glide for a moment. The wind rushed past her, but it barely seemed to touch her body.

Her robes barely fluttered and her hair whipped only slightly behind her, the wind having little to no effect on her. Now having the better line of sight, she decided to continue her previous action, observing the endless green canopy far below, the glittering ribbon of a river cutting through a forest and the distant shape of the city she had glimpsed earlier. With another powerful beat of her wings, Gloria surged forward, this time with far better command of her speed.

Overcome by a rush of pure exhilaration, she twisted into a full spinning roll, laughing as she cut through the sky as effortlessly as if she were swimming. Grinning wildly, she angled downward and dove like a comet toward the earth far below, plunging straight into the heart of a massive cloud. For a breathtaking instant everything vanished into blinding white, the freezing mist kissing her scales and skin.

Then, with a mighty flex of her wings, she unleashed some of her strength, making the cloud erupt violently around her in a spectacular explosion of vapor.

'Was my world really ever this beautiful?' She did not know, because she had never seen it like this, but the thought of her being right left a bitter taste in her mouth.

'And yet only a handful of people could ruin all of this… For what? Money? Power? What could either of those possibly buy that compares to this?' The thought was ripped away as a loud sound of a horn being blown was heard from below. She scanned the ground beneath her and quickly spotted the source of it. Only then did she realize how far she had drifted while lost in her thoughts, since she was now directly above the very city she had seen earlier.

At first glance it had looked unfamiliar, but now the pieces fell into place. There was a gigantic port in this city, one with large ships bearing pure white sails rocking at the crowded docks, and so it went without saying that beyond the city stretched the vast ocean. She glanced upward to check the sun's position, then back down at the harbor's unmistakable shape: the land narrowing into a sharp, pointed peninsula where the sea claimed the coast. There was no mistaking it… This was Ural. The Free City of Trade.

She relaxed her wings, letting them spread wide like the sails of a ship. The great membranes of purple flame caught the air and she began to descend slowly. She had barely covered half the distance when she noticed movement on the high city walls. A cluster of guards in plate armor had frozen in place, staring straight up at her, only one of which was blowing a large horn mounted to the wall.

There was another one who was not stuck in place, and he pointed at her while shouting something to the others, trying to snap them out of it. She couldn't really make out what they were saying, but she knew they were panicking, and quite focused on her.

"Strange… Have I done something to warrant this reaction?" In the game, flying straight into a city had been one of the most casual ways to arrive, second only to teleporting. Why the sudden commotion? Not wanting to draw any more attention to herself, Gloria swept her gaze across the city until she found what she was looking for—a narrow alley tucked between two tall stone buildings, hidden from the busier streets. It was a tight fit, but if she folded her wings just enough...

She banked sharply and began a controlled descent, drawing her wings in to shorten their span and let herself drop faster. It also made slipping into the alley far easier, though only barely. The gap proved even narrower than it had looked from above. Her wings scraped against the opposing walls as she passed, stone grinding against black bone while strands of freshly washed laundry brushed over her horns and shoulders. White sheets billowed around her for a fleeting moment before settling back onto their lines.

'Cool, but gross! I don't want socks in my face!' Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. She adjusted mid-fall, carefully bleeding off her remaining speed as the cobblestones rushed up to meet her. Soon after, her feet touched the slick cobblestones with little more than a soft click.

'Aaaand that is a perfect landing! Great job Gloria, but that was as expected!' She let the thought pass, then slowly rose to her full height.

"That must have been an alarm of some kind. I still cannot think of a single wrong doing I have done, but it is for the best result, be it mine or theirs, if we do not cross paths." The most glaring feature about her was undoubtedly the wings, so if she really wanted to lay low, hiding them would be the most effective method. With a simple flex of will she extinguished the purple flames, leaving only pure black bone. Controlling those bones proved a bit trickier though.

She had never truly felt such muscles in her back before, so it took her a few tries to get this right, but after a few failed attempts of awkward twisting and concentration, she managed to not only shrink them to half their size, but to also fold them tightly around her body, wrapping them across her waist and chest. The effect was striking. Gloria's already imposing armored robes took on an even sharper, more formidable silhouette, one that was noticeably spikier.

Yet somehow the look felt far less conspicuous than before.

"Yes, this is acceptable." Not wanting to wait around for the guards who had surely spotted her landing here, Gloria began walking toward the end of the alley. The narrow passage wasn't long, and so in a dozen steps, she stepped out onto one of Ural's main streets. She had always known that the city was fantastic… though she also knew its true beauty lay in the harbor she wasn't close to right now.

These streets, by contrast, felt straight out of a classic fantasy novel: the same worn cobblestone underfoot as in the alley, and sturdy stone homes lining the way, filled with colorful banners on all sides. She had seen this exact scene hundreds of times on her screen, so while it was pleasant, it didn't strike her nearly as hard as it might have someone else. What took her attention though, were the people who walked these streets.

Ural sat on the northern edge of the continent, and it was the closest major port to the hidden elven lands of Ariel. Because of that, the city was thick with elves. They were somewhat tall and elegant figures with long, pointed ears, and they were here, walking among the crowds, some in simple civilian tunics and dresses, others wearing the robes of mages or the light armor of warriors. Humans were everywhere as well, the most numerous and dominant race in the world, filling every role one could think of.

One, however, caught Gloria's attention—a man clad in worn leather armor, guiding a large wagon piled high with freshly caught fish of all sizes through the bustling streets. Riding in the back of the wagon was one of the Grounded, a member of a race whose features blended human and animal traits. The young beastkin girl had a pair of white cat ears perched atop her head and a long tail swaying behind her as she scraped scales from the fish with only her nails.

The Grounded were actually the closest thing to what she currently looked like, so Gloria was quietly betting that most people would simply mistake her for one of them. Dragons were technically a final evolution of the Grounded race… or were they? The distinction had always been a little fuzzy, like saying a chicken was technically a T-rex. Satisfied, Gloria continued onward. To her mild surprise, hardly anyone spared her more than a passing glance.

Deciding not to question her luck, she simply followed the flow of the crowd, allowing it to guide her through the winding streets. Before long, the narrow lane opened into one of the hearts of the city. A gigantic plaza stretched before her, filled with many, many different people, be they adventurers, merchants, dancer, singers or just other civilians. Yet all of it faded into background noise the instant her eyes landed on the statue at the center of the plaza.

There, towering above everything else, stood a familiar figure cast in green metal. An elven queen in a dramatic theatrical pose, one arm raised as if addressing the heavens. The statue itself was monochromatic, yet the sculptor had poured every ounce of detail into the flowing cape that cascaded down her back. Her hair was long and dramatic, wavy strands sculpted so finely they almost seemed to move in the breeze, with one large, proud lock sweeping upward like a crown of its own.

Quite a loud giggle escaped Gloria's lips before she could stop it. She quickly pressed a hand to her mouth, but the smile refused to leave her face.

'Hahahah, I can't believe what I'm seeing! They actually built a statue of her!'

"And here I always thought of you as a shy girl, oh my dear Ara." A few passersby turned their heads at the sound, curious eyes flicking toward the tall, dark-robed stranger standing before the statue, but she paid them no mind. Ara was an extremely close friend of hers, and one of her closest guildmates. She had always been the self-proclaimed Queen of All Elves in the little backstory of hers, which to be fair, was pure flavor text, never meant to be canon in the actual game.

'How in the world did they convince that girl to pose for this?' Ara had always been as shy as a startled mouse.

"Is there something you find amusing about our dear leader, young one?" The voice came from below, and so Gloria looked down. A very small, very old elf stood beside her. He had a bushy white beard that reached almost to his belt and wore a silky green mantle draped over his shoulders. His eyes, sharp despite his age, studied her with mild reproach.

"Oh, do forgive me, good elf." Gloria said smoothly, inclining her head with courtesy.

"I was simply reminiscing." The elder sighed in relief.

"Is that so? For a moment I feared you were mocking Lady Ara."

'Lady? Wait, he even said leader, did he not?' She tilted her head.

"And what is she to you, sir? Why does this statue stand in this town, of all places?" The old elf gave her a long look, then chuckled.

"What a silly question. Ah… you must be a Grounded, yes? By that innocent expression, I would guess quite a young one at that."

'Bingo. My plan is working!!' Gloria cheered inside. Aloud she simply said nothing, letting him continue.

"That is Lady Ara, the Queen of all the Elven lands!" he said, his voice filled with admiration.

"She has been a great ruler to us, guiding our people with wisdom and strength ever since the great and terrible Judgment Day. It was then that she took upon herself the title of Queen of Elves, uniting the scattered clans and even securing new territory for us here on the main continent—this very city included." Gloria was quite surprised at those words, though her composed expression barely shifted.

"Is this not Ural, the Free City of Trade?" The old elf let out a chuckle, his eyes twinkling as he looked back at her.

"Ah, it was once, yes. But not anymore. It is simply Ural now, and it lies firmly within the territory of the Elven Kingdom of Ariel." He took a moment to study Gloria more closely.

"That name has not been used in a very long time. It is my mistake for calling you a young one. It is obvious to me now that you must have been living in seclusion all this time." Gloria chose not to correct him, her mind already racing ahead towards the other interesting topic he had said.

"Judgment Day? Whatever do you mean by such an event?" The sheer fact that Gloria seemed completely unaware of it surprised the elder more than anything else. His bushy white eyebrows rose high as he stared at her.

"Truly secluded, your life must have been…" he murmured, almost to himself, before clearing his throat and continuing.

"It was the day when the nine heroes of the Golden Age rose up against the conqueror called Gloria Superba… and defeated her in combat." Gloria froze, the elegant mask slipping for the briefest instant as her slitted purple eyes widened. She asked the next question almost instinctively.

"And when was this day?" The elf's face brightened, clearly delighted to share such historic knowledge.

"I am glad you asked! Today is actually the anniversary of that very day, which is why the streets are so lively. It has been exactly three hundred years."