The air was pleasantly cool, a mild temperature that made walking comfortable without being cold. A gentle breeze carried the scents of roasted meat, spiced bread, and something sweet and caramelised through the streets. Ryan loosened his robes slightly, exposing his shirt, as they stepped through the academy gates and into the heart of Lithara.
The festival was in full swing.
Banners hung everywhere, bright reds and golds swaying gently in the breeze. Market stalls lined the streets, their owners calling out to passersby, hawking everything from fresh fruit to hand-carved trinkets, from jewellery to flowers. Musicians played on corners, drums and flutes weaving together into a rhythm that seemed to pulse through the crowd.
Children darted between legs, laughing and chasing each other. Couples walked arm in arm. Groups of students from the academy mingled with city folk, all drawn together by the celebration.
