[Ray's POV]
The city was transforming before our eyes.
Strings of colorful banderitas stretched between the buildings—red, gold, blue, green—fluttering in the afternoon breeze like a thousand tiny flags. Merchants were setting up their stalls along the main street, hammering wooden frames into place, draping fabric over counters, arranging their wares with the careful precision of people who knew that tonight would be the busiest night of the year.
The air smelled of fresh bread and roasting meat and something sweet I couldn't quite identify. Somewhere in the distance, a group of musicians was tuning their instruments—the pluck of strings, the hollow tap of a drum, the bright trill of a flute testing its range.
