The Imperial Capital of Lufondal seemed to be brimming with what felt like a great sense of joy and pride. It was not the fleeting kind of celebration that came and went with festivals or victories, but something cultivated carefully over time, reinforced by ritual and spectacle. The air itself felt lighter, filled with layered sounds, laughter, distant music, the rhythmic clatter of boots against stone, and the low murmur of tens of thousands of voices gathered together.
Noble streets that were usually pristine and reserved now overflowed with color and movement. Banners and flags were draped from balconies, towers, and archways, their silks heavy and immaculate, fluttering just enough to catch the eye.
The phoenix and the dragon, the symbols of the Imperial family, dominated the cityscape, embroidered in gold thread, painted onto stone, carved into pillars and shields as if the capital itself wished to remind everyone who it belonged to.
