The night burst into colors.
Above the Scarlet Forge City, fireworks bloomed in red and gold sprays, splattering the sky with blazing trails that reflected on the black walls veined with ember. In the streets, drums pounded at a primal rhythm, joined by shrill flutes that seemed to make the air itself dance. The people thronged together, drunk on wine and celebration, thousands of faces lifted to the night as if each spark could burn their souls.
I passed through the palace gates, and everything changed.
The outside clamor turned into a muffled hush, broken only by deep laughter and stifled sighs. Here, the air smelled of resin and mulled wine—but also of offered flesh. Half-naked dancers, their skin gleaming with oil, swayed between the basalt columns. Their hips rolled as if each step were an invitation, and lantern light slid across their smooth bellies, their heavy breasts trembling with every motion.
