He had fled the war — smoke, iron, and endless screams. Then, all at once — light.

The sea opened before him, and beyond it, a marble city rose from the shore like a dream carved by gods. White temples crowned the cliffs, domes gleamed beneath the sun, and the scent of salt and myrrh carried through the wind.

He stepped ashore. Streets of polished stone stretched before him, spotless and alive. People in togas and gold circlets moved with the ease of those untouched by war — their laughter echoing like music.

At the gates, lords awaited him, their robes bright as sunlight. They led him through the shining avenues to a palace of arches and flame.

Inside — celebration. Silk, music, and wine spilling from golden cups.