With the promise of a better future in the air, the crowd surged toward the tables.
Hunger pushed aside doubt.
Children shouted with delight when they bit into warm bread.
Shavralk miners stuffed their mouths with roasted roots and fire-glazed meat.
Even the Draknir tore into their portions with clear satisfaction.
Zarnak, Tharn, Kaela, and the rest of the Nephirid guard moved through the masses.
They shouted orders, formed rough lines, and kept an eye on every movement.
At first it was chaos.
People pushed and shoved, afraid the food would vanish before they got their share.
But every time a platter emptied, it refilled itself in front of them.
Tharn stood by one of the tables with his arms crossed.
He watched a small girl drop her food.
The food vanished, then her plate refilled on its own.
"Hells.
Seems like our new city lord is proficient with magic," he muttered.
Kaela stepped beside him. "You hear what he said up there?"
Tharn grunted. "Hard not to."
