Saint-Prea
The Great Plainway runs almost straight north–south across the vast plain.
It is the main artery of long-distance travel, a route every caravan must follow.
Here the mighty Narethil River shifts its course to flow north–south as well, running parallel to the Plainway near the plateau of Saint-Prea.
Travelers arriving from the Plainway, as Fael’s company did, first step into the Grand Plaza of Saint-Prea.
This Plaza, a perfect square about two hundred meters on each side, serves as the great forecourt of the city.
Anyone coming to this city begins here before moving on to other districts.
On the Plaza’s south side stands the city’s one and only Caravanserai of Saint-Prea.
This Serai occupies a rectangle about one hundred fifty meters east to west and fifty meters north to south.
Within are three large buildings of identical design: thick two-story walls of whitewashed earth surrounding an open courtyard.
The ground floors hold the Elba stables and storerooms for caravan goods, with part of the space set aside for Elba feed.
Above, wide balconies supported by timber beams form open galleries where travelers can look down into the yard.
Caravans register at the Serai’s gate, where a warden assigns each group its lodging section.
The great front gate is wide enough for the largest Elbas to pass side by side.
Heavy wooden doors hang there, open by day and sealed tight at night.
Guest rooms are simple: plank floors, bare walls, and only a small air vent for light and breeze.
Travelers spread their own bedding—woven rugs, blankets, folded clothing—on the floor.
At the courtyard’s center a well and water trough stand, ringed with stone paving to keep the ground drained and clean.
Even this water and drainage system alone shows how deliberately planned this city is.
In the Serai’s Elba stables, Fael’s company was busy tethering the animals to posts and unloading cargo.
Baleon passed down packs; Serio and Maya carried them to the storerooms, where the goods were neatly stacked under numbered tags.
When Serio and Maya returned after stowing the last load, Baleon spoke.
“I’ll handle the Elbas’ feed and water. Serio, show Maya the city.”
Serio blinked in surprise.
“Really?”
Baleon just nodded.
“Thanks, Baleon!”
The two chorused their thanks. Baleon smiled faintly.
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“Go on then. Be back before dark.”
“Okay!” they shouted together.
Already running, Serio and Maya waved high and dashed out through the main gate into the bustle of the Plaza.
Once outside, Serio turned to Maya.
“First, this way.”
He pointed toward the inner districts.
“Not going to the big bazaar?”
Maya asked.
“You’ve got the Saint-Prea master here—I’ll show you the best way around.”
Serio, who had stayed in this city many times, looked unusually proud.
“Follow me!”
He cried and took off, Maya laughing as she followed.
Reaching the eastern edge of the Plaza, at the entrance to the City Districts, Serio pointed to a stone monument.
“First thing when you visit—read the famous Elomiar Inscription.”
Inscription — Saint-Prea
This town began as a small fair where people gathered to trade farm goods and wares.
Once it was called the Central Plain Fair, but among merchants and travelers the name Centroplen Fair spread.
In time the farmers here chose a new name, wishing to honor the bounty of the “holy prairie”: Saint-Prea.
Here stands The City of the Grand Bazaar — Saint-Prea,
marketplace of the plain’s harvest.
—Court Recorder Elomiar Tazmir
To the east beyond the Plaza lies the heart of Saint-Prea — the City Districts.
Most visible from here is the founding ground, the Old Town (Old Quarter).
Around it, as the city grew, the New Town (New Quarter) took shape in stages: first the North, later the East, and most recently the South beyond the main avenue.
Together, the Old Town and the three New Town quarters make up a city district said to span about 1,500 meters east to west and 1,000 meters north to south.
Running east to west through the city districts is the Grand Avenue of Saint-Prea, the city’s principal thoroughfare — commonly called Saint-Prea Avenue.
It runs all the way to the plateau’s edge, where the Terrace Slope Road descends toward the Narethil floodplain.
Guided by Serio, Maya now stood at the plateau’s tip on the Narethil Overlook.
Before them stretched an endless expanse of floodplain, the great Narethil River gleaming silver as it wound in broad loops.
Gazing at that vast scene, Maya remembered the day back home when he stood on the mountain highlands and watched flocks of migrating birds cross the endless ridges.
The view was different, yet the feeling the same — boundless earth, boundless sky, and a small self between them. He felt the urge to take another step forward.
After they had taken in the great view from the plateau’s edge, Serio and Maya headed back along Saint-Prea Ave., through the New Town, and toward the Old Town.
Suddenly, Maya came upon a narrow lane just wide enough for a single child to slip through.
Though set within this carefully planned city, the old lane showed only faint traces of ancient stone paving; most of it lay hidden under shade-grown plants and moss.
Maya stepped closer and felt something odd — the breeze brushing his feet was different here.
Kneeling down, he turned his palms this way and that, testing the flow of air within the passage.
“Wind…” Maya whispered.
Drawn by it, he slipped inside.
Serio twisted sideways to follow quickly.
At the end of the old path, the view opened up.
A small, round patch of sky was visible overhead.
It was a tiny space a child could cross in seven or eight steps.
Perhaps the backyard of a house.
Small doors dotted the surrounding walls, but no one was there.
Unlike the overgrown path, this paving seemed tended despite its age.
Maya looked around and noticed a weathered stone fragment propped against the wall, faint letters still visible.
…e Ael…? Heard that before…
Maya read only the faint letters that remained.
Serio, catching up, glanced at the fragment.
“Probably a remnant of the Firma le Ael stone.”
At once Maya recalled Baleon’s tale of the Pilgrimage Road of the Wind.
“So this was the Wind Tribe’s?”
When Maya said that, Serio replied.
“Oh, so Baleon’s already told you, huh?
Yeah. If this is here, it means the Wind Clan once passed through this place.
We’ve got to tell Baleon! He’s gonna be thrilled.”
Serio grinned as he said it.
Maya nodded back with a big smile.
Long ago, before this city ever existed.
There were people who passed here, led by the wind.
Where had they come from, and where were they going?
Now their old memories have vanished beyond the reach of the wind.
The few records they left behind remain.
And those who follow them are guided by the wind as well.
Just like Maya today, drawn into this little lane by its breeze.
What will his meeting with the “memory of the wind” tell?
For now, no one can know.
Perhaps the wind itself will lead to that answer.
《Baleon’s Log》
Night in Saint-Prea — Central Plain
[Fael] Meeting an old friend — will join us at dinner in the tavern.
[Serio] City walk — returned to the Serai before dusk.
[Maya] City walk — returned to the Serai before dusk.
I just heard some good news from Maya and Serio after their walk around the city.
They say they found traces of the Pilgrimage Road of the Wind hidden deep in an unnoticed old lane.
Though I’ve visited this great city many times, I’m simply astonished that such remnants still remain here.
Tomorrow I’ll go see it.
I can hardly wait.
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AI disclosure: I am a non-native English writer and have used AI for partial translation and light editing. No AI-generated prose.