Quastrax came alive under the cloak of night, its streets illuminated by the warm, golden glow of lanterns strung between the buildings.
The soft hum of music filled the air, carried by the laughter and chatter of the crowd that flowed through the cobblestone streets like a living river.
Above, the sky sparkled with stars, their light mirrored in the intricate mosaics of the streets polished to a soft gleam by countless footsteps.
Eiravyne walked beside Urag, her hands brushing the folds of her dress nervously.
The energy of the crowd was palpable—too much, almost—but the way the people moved, danced, and celebrated held an allure she couldn't deny.
The scent of night-blooming flowers and spiced treats from nearby stalls mingled with the cool, crisp air.
Despite the celebratory atmosphere, Eiravyne's steps were hesitant, unsure of her place amidst so much life.
A child darted past her, laughing, her tiny hand clutching a glowing lantern in the shape of a crescent moon.
