The nights in Iron Hearth, the capital of Northreach, were no longer as silent as they once were. Beyond the arched windows of Castle Iron Hearth, the glow of Mana-based streetlights illuminated the asphalt roads, creating streaks of pale blue light that sliced through the darkness of the snowy territory. However, inside the main Dining Hall, this technological advancement felt in stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere enveloping the long table of ancient teak wood.
The crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling had been modified by Rianor with filaments made of Mana-quartz. The light they emitted was bright, stable, and clear—far superior to the animal-fat candles traditionally used by the nobility of Aethelgard. Yet, this brilliant clarity served only to highlight every line of exhaustion, every scar, and every flicker of despair on the faces of those seated below.
