Festivities begin

Kael's suspicion was confirmed; within an hour of wandering, the Adar family had secured lodging, along with six other accommodations for families from their village. More precisely, Lyla and Safiya had organized it. Of course, not without a price, but every innkeeper was glad to welcome an Al'Shalin, even amid the rush of guests from all over Zephyria.

The innkeepers didn't even try to charge them the inflated prices they were offering at the moment. Lyla insisted on paying the regular fee like everyone else, but the innkeeper refused to demand more than necessary.

Kael didn't complain, even though he hadn't contributed to the arrangement. As a result, the three men, including Shukran, shared a room, while the two women had another to themselves.

Kael threw his bags down, carefully placing the precious bag with tributes and the jar of ashes on the bed, before turning to his father.

"When is the next gathering?" he asked hurriedly.

"Tonight at dinner," Ammar replied, sensing his son's impatience. "Your mother and I need to take care of a few things now that we're in the capital, but we'll all be together for dinner."

Kael nodded, ready to head outside, but Ammar stopped him briefly.

"Kael!"

He paused.

"What are the rules we talked about?"

Kael sighed. His parents had established these guidelines days ago, but oh well.

He rattled off the rules quickly, "Don't start any fights, apologize if necessary, only carry a few Dinarah, notify the Sandspears if needed, don't eat too many sweets."

Ammar nodded approvingly. "Be careful," he added, before his face softened into a smile.

"And take the old man with you."

Kael raised an eyebrow and glanced at Shukran, who merely shrugged. He didn't seem to mind. Fair enough. With Shukran by his side, not much could go wrong.

Besides, the thought of being alone at such a wonderful festival was a depressing one for Kael.

And how wonderful it was. The moment Kael and Shukran stepped out of the inn, they were overwhelmed by the festival's magic. Kael felt immediately overloaded. He didn't know how long the festival would last, depending largely on Sun Queen Soraya, but he knew no amount of time would be enough to see everything.

For now, they found themselves somewhere in the middle, between the city's outer edge and its heart, where the Sun Palace stood, but even here the festival was in full swing.

They were on one of the main streets, from which hundreds of side alleys snaked away, creating a network of stalls, activities, and attractions that wove through the entire city.

The ground was paved with sandstone, embedded with intricate patterns, and the facades of houses loomed high, with people peering down from the windows onto the street.

Linen stretched across the street from house to house. Clothes, carpets, religious paintings—all were hung out on display. Large cloths were strung taut between the lines, providing much-needed shade.

On the street itself, Kael caught the spicy scent of food stalls, roasted meat, and juicy fruits. The fabrics for sale would send any connoisseur into ecstasy, and every third stall seemed to offer Qahwat Al'Sahara.

Kael felt utterly overwhelmed. Then he thought about how Shukran must feel with all these people treading over the ground.

He nudged the old man and whispered, "Isn't this a bit too much vibration for you?"

Shukran smirked, shaking his head.

"It's just like a loud... whisper. It's there, but with some effort, it's easy enough to ignore. Hard to describe but noticing a specific person or movement amidst this chaos... for that, I'd need to be a Primordial."

He smiled at Kael, "So, completely impossible. But enough of that serious stuff. This should be a paradise for a kid like you."

Kael scoffed, "Don't call me a kid, old man. That girl was a kid, and I'm not like that."

Shukran sighed, "Be glad to be a kid a bit longer. I didn't have that luxury back then."

Then he gave Kael a gentle shove in the back, "Lead the way. Let's see what the festival has to offer."

Kael swallowed down a provoking retort and set off slowly, with Shukran by his side.

He decided to follow his nose for now. The wonderful aroma led him directly to a stand where a young woman and a young man were baking incredibly appealing breads. Kael took one, and Shukran sampled one as well.

It was delicious. They moved on, passing a group of dancers parading through the street, performing wild tricks: somersaults, jumps, and movements that seemed almost inhumanly fluid. Kael and Shukran watched until the dancers finished their performance and collected donations. Kael himself offered them a single Dinarah and Shukran only shook his head.

But after some time walking and exploring, Kael stopped. The festival was everything it promised to be, but...

"What do people do at a festival?" Kael asked Shukran, uncertainly.

The old man scratched his head. Even at such an event, he still wore his old brown coat. It was a miracle he wasn't burning up in it. Kael suspected, that even heat or cold couldn't influence a binder anymore.

"Eat?" the old man guessed.

"We ate earlier," Kael replied.

Shukran shrugged. "Then I don't know. I've never been to a festival."

This surprised Kael a bit. "Really? You're literally ancient. There must have been one or two festivals in your time."

Shukran squinted at him. "I'm a bit older than you, brat, but I was very busy when I was younger. And by the time I had free time, this stuff wasn't my thing anymore. But maybe I could still enjoy it... if I were here with a beautiful woman, not you."

Kael laughed. "I'd also prefer having a pretty girl in my arms. But you'll do for today. Let's keep moving; standing here won't make it any more interesting."

Kael and Shukran continued walking, unsure of what to do next. After some time they wandered down an alley to get to another street, passing between buildings of worn sandstone that towered over them.

The alley was narrow, with wooden doors and shuttered windows lining each side, their paint peeling and sun-bleached. Vines crept up the walls, their tendrils curling into the cracks and crevices of the old stone.

The scent of spices and roasting meat wafted through the air, mixing with the earthy odor of the alley's stones. A distant clamor of voices and laughter drifted from the nearby main street, mingling with the occasional clinking of glasses from the buildings around them.

As they approached the other end of the alley, Kael spotted an open door hanging ajar beneath a weathered sign that read: "Desert's Golden Spring." The sound of muffled chatter and clinking glasses emanated from within.

"It's a bar," Shukran remarked.

A horse voice from inside echoed even out here. "Which story do you want to hear next?"

"About the other lands!" came a young voice in reply.

"Tell us how Talak was tamed!" another chimed in.

Intrigued, Kael peeked around the corner and then stepped inside. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated a bustling scene. People of all ages, mostly younger folk and children, gathered in a circle around an elderly woman sitting in a chair. Several drinks and plates of food lined the tables, but everyone had abandoned their seats to listen to the old woman's tale.

The rich scents of roasted meat, spices, and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the tang of drinks and the sweet aroma of fruit.

"Come now, these old eyes have seen it all!" The elderly woman prodded her audience, eliciting more cries of excitement.

"She's a storyteller..." Kael murmured, feeling a spark of interest ignite within him. This was something different from what he'd seen before.

He pushed his way through the crowd, finding a small open spot to stand.

"What about the Iron War?" a pleasant and young voice rang out beside him.

Kael turned to see a boy with his gaze fixed ahead. The boy seemed to be about his age, with long brown hair tied back and a blue Ra'ed that matched his inquisitive eyes. He was taller than Kael, as most were, and had a handsome face. Those blue eyes and that brown hair struck Kael as a bit unfair.

He suppressed a scoff, rolling his eyes at the sight of the pretty boy. Unknown to him, his reaction didn't go unnoticed by the girl standing closely next to the boy, who was narrowing her eyes at him.

For some reason, the boy's voice seemed to drown out the others, and suddenly the old storyteller shifted in her chair, stretching her aged back.

"Ah," she began, her eyes reflecting a long, winding past, "the Iron War. Yes, of course, you youngsters weren't even born then."

She took a sip of her drink from the table beside her, and the entire bar fell silent.

The raspy voice of the old woman echoed through the room as she began her tale.

"Back then, I was still a lovely young woman, but I remember it well. I lived here in the capital, and one day a rumor spread through the streets. It said that the Princess of Solenthia was on her way here to meet the Sun Sovereign at the time, Sun King Vashar."

She paused for a second, taking in the silence and the attention of the entire room.

"That single meeting was the catalyst for the worst war Zalax had ever seen."