Lugh, Sela, and Mirelle were now walking the streets of one of the main districts. Main, in this context, referred not to wealth or prestige, but to foot traffic—the part of the city most frequently visited by the common folk.
Although popular, it was still nighttime. The air was cool, and most of the population had long since retired indoors.
Yet, even under a dim canopy of stars, the district had a character of its own. It buzzed—not loudly, but steadily—with the movements of those who had reasons to be out when most others weren't.
Vagrants. Night-shift vendors. Shadowy runners. Drunkards, dreamers, lovers. People who did not fit the shape of the day. A vibrant little niche of nightlife thrived.
The smell of spices clung to the air like a slow lullaby. It wafted from vendor stalls lined up unevenly along the narrow street, each competing for attention with loud calls and colorful lights.
