Bright shop signs hung from houses of heavy timber and white plaster. Farmers lined the narrow alleyways, their stalls filled with the first harvests of the season. The people conversed in jovial voices and greeted each other with broad smiles. Children ran rosy-cheeked and capricious through cobblestone streets. Eolyn found herself mesmerized by pungent aromas of smoked meat and rotting fruit, by the ear-piercing laughter of children, and by the thundering clatter of horses and wagons. The sun already floated high in the midday sky when a new sound caught Eolyn’s attention, a low pulsing resonance that seemed to carry her name. People around her stopped their labors. Many started toward the source of the strange music. Children ran ahead of the gathering crowd. Eolyn followed them toward the town center, where she caught sight of an elegant procession. Rhythmic drums interwove with the seductive refrains of flutes, bells, and other instruments unknown.
