Chapter 32 - Watch out for Pychor!

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Athena and Deimos sauntered through the lively streets of Orynth. Walking past children cheering and couples hugging, and navigating between delicious food stalls and spirited parades. But wherever their heads turned they were met by broad smiles and waving hands, 'welcome' and 'first time in Orynth?' slipping through their lips too eagerly for her liking.

But she had noticed one more thing; a common theme wherever she allowed her eyes to wander;

Fire.

Lanterns occupied every stall and every street. It was a rare sight not to see an adult leisurely carrying a lantern of their own, at times lending it to their child to hold, while they supervised them lazily. And it was even rarer not to hear the cracking embers of wood burning from big bonfires while people danced around them.

Athena's eardrums picked up a slow but steady beat.

The rhythmic beating of drums increased in intensity as the parade continued to their street and Athena and Deimos were forced to the sides as men and women alike showed off their acrobatic skills and their extravagant costumes, some even playing a captivating instrument that boomed through the air. However, there were those who took it a step further, and juggled with fire, jumped through fiery hoops, or played instruments that were aflame.

Her eyes travelled from the parade to scan the faces of those around her. Guards flocked the street on every corner, also seemingly dressed for the occasion, their red clothes perfectly matching the theme. They held their chins high and smiled warmly at children playing around, and shot warning glances at those who consumed too much alcohol. At times they would intervene when a drunkard began to cause a ruckus, and Athena could not help but note how they were very attentive of their surroundings. She had expected it from the fae, but the humans had also paid attention to the smallest of signs, such as a child crying out for their mother, or a fight threatening to break out. Nonetheless, they always succeeded in de-escalating the situation before it could evolve into something irredeemable.

Suddenly, Athena heard a young voice bellow in the distance, its high and clear pitch along with its tenderness only belonging to a child. "Move!" The goddess craned her neck to see a girl run through the crowd of thousands, slithering her way between adult and kid.

"Hey! Be careful, Pychor!" A middle-aged man with a too long moustache for his round face scolded when she accidentally stomped on his foot.

"Sorry!" She apologized hurriedly, throwing her head back. But because she didn't have the faintest clue who or what stood before her, she collided with what felt like a concrete wall and fell back. "Ouch," she whimpered rubbing her ass.

The girl, presumably by the name Pychor, jerked her head up to stare at a tall man with dark features. Her white dress was now dirty, her half-tied hair a complete mess, and the baked goods she had been carrying in her wicker basket were now scattered everywhere, almost as if she was holding a feast for the rats on the street.

The god viewed her with utmost disgust before he wiped the dust off his toga. "Watch it, you insect," he seethed and Pychor saw red.

In return for his oh-so-pleasant reaction, Pychor shot him the nastiest glare she could muster. "Is it my fault you're partly deaf? Didn't you hear me shout for you to move your slow ass?" She hauled herself up to her feet and dusted off her cute dress, cringing when she pulled the cloth aside so she could see her back, and finding it particularly hard to rid of some of the dirt.

Deimos' nose scrunched and he replied by stomping on the pastry closest to his feet, shooting strawberry jam everywhere, including on Pychor's dress. He smiled at her.

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