[ The outer courtyard - Skarthheim ]
The field was bathed in twilight gold as Kieran strolled down the winding dirt path towards the newly constructed makeshift arena.
Unlike the last time, the place looked far more organised.There were raised wooden seating arranged in gallery tiers circling a sunken central rink that was rimmed with iron torches, flickering as if hungry.
A faint breeze carried the scent of hay, steel, and anticipation.
Kieran adjusted the scarf around his neck as his boots thudded against the packed dirt. His dark eyes swept over the preparations, noting the precise symmetry, the guards stationed at every third stair, and the hush of excitement rippling through the settling crowd.
Just as he neared the performers' tent, a hand grabbed him by the arm and yanked him behind one of the stage curtains.
