The next morning dawned gently, as if the heavens themselves wanted to savor the moment before surrendering the world to the hustle and bustle of daylight.
A soft golden glow bathed Greyvale City, warming the slate rooftops and shimmering off the wide cobblestone streets that wound through the burgeoning metropolis like veins in living flesh.
Vendors were already setting up their stalls, their calls echoing faintly in the crisp morning air; carts rattled down the roads, laden with produce from nearby villages; chimneys puffed trails of pale smoke; and beasts of burden trudged dutifully through the streets, guided by half-awake workers eager to catch the morning markets before they became crowded.
From its highest rooftops to its narrowest alleys, Greyvale City inhaled deeply, and exhaled life.
