The air was alive with light.
Scarlet lanterns hung from delicate woven threads, drifting gently in the warm evening breeze as if the sky itself had caught fire. Ribbons of flame-motes trailed through the air, summoned from countless floating pyres above the thoroughfares—each one dancing with the colors of the season: gold, crimson, and violet. The scent of spiced wine, candied fruit, and burning myrrh wove together into something strange and sweet and ancient.
It was the Festival of the First Flame, and the capital of the Arcanis Empire, Arcania, pulsed with celebration.
Jesse walked quietly among the crowd.
She had no attendants to draw notice, no crest openly displayed, and no fanfare announcing her arrival. In a city overflowing with noble carriages and shimmering banners, she was just another traveler. Just another girl walking beneath the glow of floating lanterns.
And yet—she had never felt so free.
