The scent of spiritual fruit lingered in the air like warm incense, thick and heady, soaking into the courtyard like a veil of divine intoxication. It clung to the breeze and settled on the leaves of ancient spiritual trees, their branches swaying lazily above as if lulled by the rich aroma.
Somewhere in the distance, a soft rustle echoed, quickly swallowed by the low hum of conversation and the rare sound of laughter—raw, bestial joy reverberating beneath a canopy steeped in magic and time.
Ricky hovered above it all, his compound eyes gleaming faintly under the moonlight as he surveyed the scene below. The banquet table sprawled across the courtyard like a holy offering. Fruits shimmered like tiny blood-red stars under the lanterns' golden glow.
