The boy looked on from his corner in the cage as they slowly neared Outer Cyrium. Forests giving way to plains which in turn surrendered their foothold to vast fields of wheat and other forms of sustenance. He took in everything, not letting his midnight black eyes rest as they darted back and forth across he scenery.

The caravan slowed down as the road became busier with wagons and caravans headed towards the Grand market of Cyrium, as well as those of happy merchants and farmers heading back home after a profitable day at the market.

The fields slowly gave way to the inevitable slums that are abound in every city, no matter what is claimed otherwise. The sprawling slums slowly diminishing as they neared the city, leading to simple houses of wood and stone, most probably owned by the peasantry and the common folk. Their life one of simplicity and handwork. They were content with what they had and more often than not, lived a happier life than the nobles who were always embroiled in their petty schemes and politics.

The caravan slowed down and ground to a halt as it reached the gates of Inner Cyrium. The city walls were massive. Made of stone and iron, they promised blood and death anyone with a mind to attack. Thirty men could stand on each other’s shoulders and still only be able to barely clear the top. The wall, despite it’s size, was built like a rampart and surrounded the entire circumference of the sprawling inner city.

It was believed that the fortifications of the city were built during the rule of Oror, The Eighth Incarnation of Holaph on the mortal plane. Cyrium was supposedly considered a minor city then, its gigantic ramparts built only as an afterthought during the construction of the legendary city of Dwarka, the illustrious capital of the mighty Ororian empire.

Only legends remain of Dwarka and the Ororian empire. Fact sullied by fiction. Rumours and myths, twisting it so that the truth was long lost in the sands of time. Whatever the legends maybe, Cyrium is one of the few existing monoliths of Ororian pride and glory. Its fortifications, which easily cover a circumference of 40 kilometres, a testament to its prowess. Trade flourished in Cyrium, owing to its promise of security. As a consequence, people started congregating over the years, reaching a point where the city of Cyrium had to spill over outside its fortifications. The nobles and elites fought for the prime locations within the city wall while the poorer folk were left to fend for themselves outside the walls. The peasants and common folk were more than content staying in the shadows of Cyrium’s walls and earning their livelihood outside them. The city gradually grew, it’s walls also acting as a distinction between what were later termed as Inner Cyrium and Outer Cyrium.

The only exception to this class divide is the market that thrives in Inner Cyrium. It has become the symbol of Cyrium over the years. It was rumoured that you could get anything you wanted in Cyrium’s markets if you knew where to look.

The market was at the centre of Cyrium. There were many attempts by the nobles to occupy this prime location. They were all thwarted by the entire peasantry and the other nobles uniting in a rare occasion of common objective.

The caravan was thoroughly checked at the gates for anything illegal, not that there was much that was illegal in Cyrium. The carts then slowly made their way towards the market.

There was a drastic difference between the buildings outside the walls and those inside them. While the buildings outside were simple and practical, a majority of the inner city buildings were ornate and rich. The houses could no longer be called houses but mansions, their splendour and extravagance only increasing as the caravan meandered towards the market. The road was paved with cobblestones and was well maintained as opposed to the packed dirt roads outside. There were street lamps on either side of the central road while smaller roads that branched away from the central road had their own sets of streetlights. Everything in the inner city spoke of wealth and opulence, it’s presence only increasing as they progressed neared the market.

The boy looked up at the roof of the cart, his midnight black eyes seemingly boring a hole in it. It was his first time in Cyrium and he couldn't help but wonder how his mother would have been excited to have visited her first city….if she had still been alive. Tears involuntarily streaked down his cheeks, as long suppressed memories burst forth in a raging torrent, threatening to overwhelm his sanity. He fought back, suppressing them again like he had for the last month.

The prisoners who noticed his tears were bewildered. This was the first emotion that they saw on the boy since he joined them around a month ago.

The boy wiped away the tears with his sleeve and stood up as the carts rumbled to a stop at the entrance of the market.