02-11-2026, 01:29 AM
Ezvin waited near the edge of the riverwalk where the lights from the carnival bled into the dark water, turning it into a ribbon of gold and color. The air carried the smells burnt sugar, liquor, oil from frying dough, and the faint odor of the river itself. Somewhere behind him, a guitar played a tune that was just a little too slow, just a little too warped to be comforting. He felt good.
Not the sharp, restless kind of good that came from chasing something new, but the smooth, settled confidence of a man exactly where he wanted to be. His coat was warm, scarf loose, hair behaving for once. He checked his reflection briefly in the dark glass of a ticket booth and allowed himself a small, approving nod. Nights like this suited him.
The carnival sprawled away from the embankment like a fever dream. Strings of lights zigzagged overhead. The tents leaned into one another as if sharing secrets. A tarot reader smoked beneath a velvet awning, cards laid out like an accusation.
Further down, a sign promised TRUE GHOSTS, REAL VOICES, and Ezvin made a mental note to check about that later. Across the way, a row of game stalls glowed with impossible optimism, stuffed animals hanging in neat rows like colorful trophies waiting to be claimed.
He slipped his wallet from his pocket, checked the time, and smiled.
He leaned back against the railing and watched people pass: lovers wrapped together, strangers brushing hands, performers in half-costumes laughing too loudly. Ezvin’s thoughts flicked, briefly, to how Cadence had looked earlier that day, all curious and bright, just on the edge of something new. He liked that edge. He liked being there when people stepped over it. He also liked that she’d said yes so easily.
Not the sharp, restless kind of good that came from chasing something new, but the smooth, settled confidence of a man exactly where he wanted to be. His coat was warm, scarf loose, hair behaving for once. He checked his reflection briefly in the dark glass of a ticket booth and allowed himself a small, approving nod. Nights like this suited him.
The carnival sprawled away from the embankment like a fever dream. Strings of lights zigzagged overhead. The tents leaned into one another as if sharing secrets. A tarot reader smoked beneath a velvet awning, cards laid out like an accusation.
Further down, a sign promised TRUE GHOSTS, REAL VOICES, and Ezvin made a mental note to check about that later. Across the way, a row of game stalls glowed with impossible optimism, stuffed animals hanging in neat rows like colorful trophies waiting to be claimed.
He slipped his wallet from his pocket, checked the time, and smiled.
He leaned back against the railing and watched people pass: lovers wrapped together, strangers brushing hands, performers in half-costumes laughing too loudly. Ezvin’s thoughts flicked, briefly, to how Cadence had looked earlier that day, all curious and bright, just on the edge of something new. He liked that edge. He liked being there when people stepped over it. He also liked that she’d said yes so easily.