Night draped the skies over the Southeast in a starless shroud. Only a faint crescent moon peeked through the clouds, casting soft light onto the city's stone walls and shadowed alleyways, soon to be the stage for a grand festival just days away. Etien moved fast but silent, cloaked head-to-toe in black, a thin veil wrapped around his face, leaving only sharp eyes peering into the darkness. His footsteps were soundless, he moved like a shadow, part of the night itself.
The damp wind carried the earthy scent of wet soil. Colorful banners hung loosely, some having already fallen to the ground where they'd been lazily or hastily strung.
Etien knew the risk. If he got caught, it wouldn't be a slap on the wrist, it could mean worse than prison. But curiosity pushed him forward, and more than that—a deep sense of responsibility. He needed answers, from the people themselves. What was really hiding behind all this celebration and grandeur?
