The sun bid its farewell, dipping below the horizon as the first stars dotted the evening sky. The light waned into twilight, casting a soft purple hue over the town of Admiral. Soon after, darkness swept in, inviting the moon to take its post high above. Lanterns began to flicker to life, strung along wooden poles and shopfronts, casting warm, golden glows that mingled with the cool night air.
Luke dusted off his hands as Sigmund handed him a small leather pouch.
"Good work today, lad. Try not to spend it all in one place," Sigmund teased.
"Not a chance," Luke replied, pocketing the coins. He offered a quick wave and headed toward Mirela's house, his boots scuffing the dirt road.
But something caught his eye as he made his way down the familiar street—a collection of lanterns in the distance, accompanied by the hum of voices and bursts of laughter. He followed the sound, curiosity tugging at him, and soon found himself standing at the edge of Admiral's night market.
