The festival's energy didn't fade with nightfall—it intensified.
District Six was now a blur of glowing lanterns, shimmering banners, and a symphony of music that pulsed through the very stone beneath Kael's feet.
And people. So many people. The main avenues were rivers of bodies, a current of joyous humanity.
Performers juggled balls of pure mana or danced on spinning rune-discs, their movements impossibly fluid. Street chefs, with a flourish, flipped sizzling food into levitating trays, sending tantalizing aromas wafting through the air.
Children, their faces sticky with sweet treats, ran past with candy-coated mana crystals in their hands, their laughter like bright bells.
Kael, caught in the flow, pushed through a slow-moving cluster of delighted tourists, a warm, spiced meat skewer in one hand and a frothing drink in the other, trying desperately not to spill either.
