The afternoon sun hung high over Dolan City, casting a warm golden glow across the bustling streets as Egon and Vienna stepped out of the carriage in front of the Flower Garden boutique.
Cling!
The familiar bell above the door chimed softly when they entered.
Inside, the air smelled of fresh lavender sachets, polished wood, and the faint metallic tang of enchanted thread being woven on the looms in the back room.
Several designers and crafters paused their work the moment they saw the pair.
Egon observed them with interest.
There were five of them today: Lira, the head seamstress with silver-streaked auburn hair tied in a practical knot.
Young Tobin, barely in twenties, whose nimble fingers could embroider runes into silk faster than most could draw breath.
Maraelle, the jeweler whose delicate hands crafted settings for enchanted gems.
