"Amydon was founded thousands of years ago," the old man began. "It began as nothing more than a small village, formed by refugees from a long-forgotten war. And for hundreds of years, it remained that way — little more than a speck on the map near the edge of the borderlands."

For a moment, he paused, stroking his stubbly chin as his eyes turned dreamy, as if he was envisioning himself living in that small village all those years ago.

After a minute of silence, Arran figured the man was lost in dreams, and he asked, "And then?"

The question brought the old man back to the present. He coughed softly, then continued, "That all came to an end when one of the villagers found iron in the foothills nearby. In a matter of decades, the village grew into a flourishing town, visited by miners and merchants from all over the borderlands."

"Iron?" Arran looked at Kimon with a raised eyebrow. The man had spoken of an illustrious past to rival the Empire, but what he described sounded more like the growth of a modest mining town.

"Ah, but iron was only the beginning!" the gray-haired man said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Barely half a century later, the miners discovered a silver vein, as rich as any ever seen in this world. And in the years that followed, gold deposits were discovered, along with numerous precious gemstones. With such wealth, it wasn't long before Amydon grew into a city whose reputation spread to the farthest reaches of the world."

"So the city became wealthy," Arran said, still not exactly impressed by the tale.

"Wealthy?!" The old man let out a shrill laugh. "You might as well call a mountain a rock! 'Wealthy' doesn't even begin to describe the vast riches Amydon held. Even now, after thousands of years, much of the coin you carry will have the seal of Amydon." He gestured at Arran. "Go on, see for yourself."

Arran frowned, but he did as the man said, pulling a handful of gold and silver from his coin purse. That was only a small portion of the wealth he carried, of course — most of his possessions were inside his void ring.

He quickly inspected his coins, and was surprised to find that Kimon had not exaggerated. Several of the coins carried a seal shaped like a crown, and although the seal itself was unfamiliar to him, a close look showed that the word 'AMYDON' was written beneath it, in letters so tiny he could only barely read them.

At this, Arran finally realized just how wealthy Amydon had been. The coins he carried were all taken from fallen enemies, most of whom he had defeated thousands of miles away. And that Amydon's coins were still so common in so large an area, even after thousands of years, meant that the numbers of coins minted would have been vast beyond compare.

"Then the Shadowflame Society attacked Amydon for its wealth?" Arran asked, though even as he spoke, he realized the explanation made little sense. Mages cared little for gold, silver, and gemstones.

"Don't be impatient, young man," Kimon said. "The history of Amydon is a long one."

Arran nodded, trying his best to appear patient. He had said he had as much time as the man could spare, after all. "What happened then?"

"For over a thousand years, Amydon flourished. Both the city and its surroundings grew wealthy beyond belief." The old man shook his head. "But it didn't last. The gold and silver mines were vast, but eventually they were depleted, and the river of riches slowed to a trickle. The wealth that had been built over a thousand years took another thousand to run out, but when it did, the city fell into disrepair, its past splendor eventually forgotten by the rest of the world."

Arran said nothing as he waited for Kimon to continue. By now, he was beginning to grow interested in the story. He knew how the story ended, of course, but he wondered what path had led Adymon to its eventual fall.

"For centuries," Kimon continued, "the people of Adymon scoured both the foothills and the mountains for more sources of gold and silver, but none were successful."

He paused briefly, and a glint of anticipation could be seen in his eyes when he spoke again. "Yet after centuries of failure, when all others had long since given up hope, one young man's search was rewarded. And what he found was something far more valuable than gold or silver — what he found was starmetal."

Arran's eyes went wide with surprise, and suddenly, he began to understand why the Shadowflame Society had attacked.

Yet the old man continued, "This young man was Karanos, who would become the first and only king of Amydon. And he was no fool. He did not reveal the location of the deposit to anyone but his closest allies. Rather than let the starmetal be mined by others, he used his newfound wealth to bring weaponsmiths, armorsmiths, and enchanters to Amydon."

Again, Kimon paused, a look of awe in his eyes. When he continued speaking a moment later, there was a slight tremble in his voice.

"It was a stroke of genius. Starmetal weapons and armor brought Amydon its reputation, but its craftsmen transformed the iron from our mines into steel that was nearly as formidable. For each starmetal sword that was sold, thousands of enchanted steel ones were bought by those drawn to Amydon's reputation. Once more, the city thrived, the weapons and armor it sold unrivaled anywhere in the world."

"And that's why the Shadowflame Society attacked?" Arran asked. "To gain these treasures?"

"Patience," Kimon said curtly, then continued, "Karanos used his wealth to have himself and his allies learn magic, and under their protection, Amydon flourished for many centuries. It fairly traded with anyone who would come — mages and commoners alike. And when the Hunters appeared in the borderlands, it sold to them as well, treating them like any other customers."

"I can't imagine the Shadowflame Society took kindly to that," Arran said.

"For a time, they accepted it," the old man said. "Even when the wars began in earnest, Amydon remained staunchly neutral, favoring neither side over the other. But some five hundred years ago, the Shadowflame Society finally marched a large army to Amydon's gates, demanding that it submit and pay tribute."

"And they refused?" Arran frowned, wondering what could have made a single city believe it could resist the full might of a Valley.

Kimon nodded. "Karanos argued that after centuries of peace and friendship, the mages' demands were unjust and unreasonable, and that for Amydon, siding with the Shadowflame Society meant certain destruction at the hands of the Hunters. Instead, as a compromise, he offered to stop selling weapons to both sides of the conflict."

Arran sighed. "The mages didn't accept the offer."

"They did not," the old man confirmed. "They said Amydon lacked the strength to negotiate, and that against a superior enemy, it could only bend or be broken."

"And Karanos chose the latter?" Arran asked.

Kimon nodded regretfully. "I don't think he expected the Shadowflame mages to follow through. But they did. And after they took the city, they slaughtered all who had stood in its defense, then banished any who remained from the borderlands."

"They went that far?" Arran asked, surprised at the Valley's ruthlessness. "But why?"

"To set an example, so that others would not make the same mistake." The old man gave a wry smile, and continued, "But they did not get all they wanted — Karanos escaped with his life, and when he disappeared, so did any knowledge of the starmetal deposit in the mountains."

Arran sat silently for several seconds, pondering the fall of Amydon. Finally, he asked, "If the mages killed or banished everyone in the city, how is it that there are still people here?"

"Over the years, others arrived and settled in the ruins," Kimon said. "And some, like myself, are descended from those who were banished. I returned here fifty years ago, after the Shadowflame mages and the Hunters finally reached a peace."

There was no need for Arran to guess how the man would react if he knew the Ninth Valley's heir was sitting right in front of him. But he didn't know, and Arran asked, "What about the starmetal deposit? Haven't people gone looking for it?"

"Many have," the old man replied. "But most of them returned empty-handed, and the others did not return at all. I suspect that Karanos set up protections of some sort around it, so finding it would be an unfortunate thing." He cast a somber look at Arran. "But you should go. Telling this story has left me weary."

"Then I thank you for your time and your wisdom," Arran said, rising from his seat. "And perhaps Amydon will rise again, one day."

"Perhaps it will," Timon said. "But it would be better if it didn't. In these lands, the strong rule, and the weak endure. Amydon will never have the strength to match either the mages or the Hunters, so it's better off going unnoticed."

Arran hesitated for a moment, then took out a gold coin — one those that carried the seal of Amydon. He placed it on the table in front of the old man, and said, "A reminder of better days."

Before the man could object, Arran turned around and left the small office. In the store, he was met with the same suspicious looks as when he first entered, but he ignored them and quickly made his way outside.

As he stepped out in the streets, he took a look around at the town whose secrets he now knew. The sight no longer filled him with curiosity. Rather, he felt a sense of regret, and he could not help but sigh at the town's unfortunate past.

Then, with a quick shake of his head, he turned around and began to head toward the mountains in the distance.