Caelhart, the capital city of Norvaegard, was livelier than normal. There were many stalls set up near the Royal Academy.
Many people were coming and going from different blacksmiths and a few alchemy shops. The air carried a constant murmur, the sound of bargaining, laughter, and the rhythmic clang of metal from the forges.
Bright banners bearing the crests of noble houses fluttered from every street corner, their colors catching the late morning sun like waves of fire and silk.
Some displayed lions, others serpents, hammers, wings, each representing the young competitors about to prove their worth on the grand stage.
Merchants shouted over one another, selling everything from roasted meats and sweets to commemorative trinkets carved in the shape of the academy's crest. Street performers played lively tunes on flutes and drums, their rhythms blending with the chatter of the crowd.
