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Chapter 8 - Chapter 8 - The day Before Mahashivratri

The Day Before Mahashivratri

The days roll on, bright and busy, as the Shivratri festival draws near. Vhalgren is alive with

colours, music, and cheer. Preparations are nearly complete, and not a single sign of trouble

has shown itself again since the robbery.

Children run between the stalls, laughing, chasing each other with scraps of cloth and petals.

Women gather near the temple, stringing garlands of flowers. The air smells of spices and

incense.

Saela shouts "Hold that higher, Pavi!" instructing Pavi on how to tie the decorative flags

across the herbal tent.

"I am holding it! You've got eyes like a hawk" Pavi calls back, laughing.

Nearby, Konrad and Aldric carry planks of wood to the main square, where Erek Valen and

Kael, hammering together a new stage for the dance performance.

Konrad grins. "Erek, how's that coming along?"

Erek says, without looking up from his hammering. "Faster than last year, thanks to you

two. Now stop talking and lift that beam,"

Aldric laughs. "He's more serious than a priest at dawn."

At the fountain, Merra Harken is kneeling with other women, drawing out rangoli patterns

with powdered colors. She straightens and waves at her husband.

"Brann! Don't forget we need the clay pots from the east barn."

Brann replies. "I'll grab Thomas and Garron, and we'll haul them in before sun goes down."

Darrek walks by, checking on the final setups, his axe still resting across his back as a

precaution, but his expression is calm now. "Tomorrow will be something, won't it?"

Brann says, smiling. "Feels like the whole village is breathing again"

Even the elders, usually stern and watchful, sit around the central courtyard cracking jokes.

Old man Theon chuckles "Last year, I tried to dance. My legs haven't forgiven me since."

Everyone laughs. As night falls, lanterns are lit all around Vhalgren, casting a golden glow

over the smiling faces. Songs echo in the air as young girls practice their Shivratri songs in

groups. Despite the recent troubles, the village holds its breath in hope, eager for a day of

celebration.

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