The edge of the desert seemed to come alive as a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds heralded the arrival of the festival. With the first light of dawn casting a golden glow upon the sands, a cavalcade of visitors appeared on the horizon, their vibrant presence a perfect accompaniment to the bouquet of sensory offerings designed by the village.

As they neared, the distinct features of a few of these visitors emerged. Zeni wasn’t sure why, but as she watched, some of these people seemed to captivate her more than most—almost as if the universe was willing her attention to fixate on them.

Among them, a tall, ebony-skinned man, adorned with an elaborate headdress of iridescent feathers, strode with the regal bearing of a pharaoh. His piercing gaze surveyed the village with an air of quiet wisdom. Close by, a petite, catlike woman flitted through the crowd with feline grace, her emerald eyes flashing to and fro. Her ears, reminiscent of a desert lynx, twitched with curiosity as she weaved her way between the other visitors, her sleek, spotted tail swaying hypnotically behind her.

A towering figure, clad in flowing robes of shimmering indigo, commanded attention as he approached. With each step, intricate tattoos of celestial symbols seemed to dance across his bronzed skin, hinting at his connection to the heavens. Beside him, a young girl skipped joyfully, her laughter as musical as the wind chimes adorning her delicate wrists. Her large, expressive eyes were the color of a desert sunset, warm and golden, framed by a cascade of sunset-hued curls that tumbled down her back.

The village square, once a sleepy gathering place, now pulsed with the energy of anticipation and excitement. Their work had finally been completed: the brightly colored banners and streamers adorned every building, their vivid hues dancing in the gentle breeze. The square had become a hive of activity, with stalls, tables, and stages assembled for the various performances and contests that would take place throughout the day. Everything was ready for the celebrations, and it promised to be one rip-roarin’ good time.

In the midst of it all, Zeni joined Neith, who stood as a beacon of calm determination amidst the chaos. Her hands were stained with vibrant shades of blue and green, clearly from her role in the creation of many of the beautiful decorations gracing the village’s veneer. As Zeni approached, her mentor flashed her a warm smile.

"Ah, Zeni! Just in time," Neith said, gesturing towards a stack of intricately woven garlands. "We need to hang these around the square, feeling like clambering up to some high places?"

“Are you kidding me?” Zeni nodded. “I love heights”

She eagerly scooped up the garlands and followed Neith's lead as they set about draping them from rooftops and lampposts, their fingers deftly weaving the delicate strands into a mural of color and life. The garlands seemed to come alive under their touch, their delicate petals shimmering in the sunlight like a cascade of jewels.

After a time, Zeni paused and looked up at Neith, who was putting the finishing touches on a particularly stubborn laurel that kept slipping down from its position of prestige above the doorway of the inn.

“Neith,” she said questioningly.

Her mentor, mid-tangle with her task, simply inclined her head slightly in answer while keeping her eyes trained on the naughty bit of decoration refusing to cooperate.

“I noticed that some of the folks that entered the town today seemed, I dunno…special?” Zeni said thoughtfully. “Not sure why. Are they important?”

Neith, finally giving up and just tossing the arching arrangement aside, looked over at her and smiled.

“Ah,” she said. “You’re finally noticing.”

Zeni raised an eyebrow.

“I am? Noticing what?”

“Ka,” Neith said simply.

“Whatcha mean?”

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Neith’s smile was one of assurance and gentleness and she dusted her hands off on her skirts and stretched before making her way over to sit next to her pupil, relaxing with a sigh.

“Tea?” Neith asked, proffering the kettle from where she’d left it.

“Sure,” Zeni said, accepting a cup as Neith handed it to her and began to pour the steeped liquid into the vessel.

After a few quiet moments of preparation, Neith took a solitary sip from her own cup and leaned back, relishing the floral flavor of the steaming beverage. Finally, she spoke.

“Those individuals you noticed—if you were paying attention to the same few that I was—caught your attention because of their Ka.”

Zeni sat back, considering. She knew that Ka could sometimes present itself in different ways, but from her understanding, most individuals would only sense types of Ka that resonated with their own—the energies commingling almost like an ethereal handshake.

“Do they have a similar Ka to my own, then?”

Neith shrugged.

“They might…” she said, taking another sip of tea. “However, that is not why they stood out so resolutely to you amidst such a charming array of newcomers. It is because of their Ka, and their control over it, that you took proper notice. When one learns to control their Ka well enough, an individual can contort it in a way that leaves a presence to those who can understand the signature. Even more so, it is not uncommon to see Ka users—known by many as Ka-sen—making their mark or ensuring that others will pay attention to them. It is a greeting of sorts, and it can become something of a guidepost to others.”

Zeni thought about how Neith had seemed to stand out in the center of everything earlier and smirked.

“So you were doing it too?”

Neith actually managed to appear a little bashful.

“Well, yes,” she said. “It is common practice in many places to broadcast one’s presence as a Ka-sen.”

She chuckled girlishly at Zeni’s expression.

“Oh, I know it might seem silly, but—”

“I don’t think it’s silly!” Zeni interrupted excitedly. “I think it’s cool as hell! That’s like marketing, or something. Branding. I want to learn to do that!”

Neith smiled, nodding in agreement.

“Well, then, I can teach you,” she said. “It’s not difficult to do, once you learn the basics. The issue arises when attempting to turn it off again. Now that can take a little trial and error. Often it becomes second nature when arriving in a new location, or receiving guests to just make yourself known through Ka. Strong emotions can have that effect as well. I sometimes find myself doing it when I’m feeling particularly happy, or sad, or stressed.”

Zeni had a difficult time imagining the collected, measured and gentle Neith as anything other than resolutely placid—so, she’d have to take her word for it.

“So, does it feel different, once you learn how?” Zeni wondered.

Neith, her eyes suddenly full of the sort of mischief one typically finds in teenagers sharing a secret, leaned forward and whispered in Zeni’s ear.

“It does,” she intoned. “And it’s really fun too!”

The two of them laughed, and Neith picked herself up, suddenly glaring at the miscreant garland she’d hucked across the way.

“Now,” she said. “I think we’re just about done here. What say we head out and find some ‘no good’ to get up to?”

“Party time!” Zeni said, leaping up to follow her mentor into the crowd.

As the morning progressed, the celebrations were deployed in earnest. Menna could be seen carrying trays of mouth watering pastries and breads to her stall, the scent of her wares wafting through the air and tantalizing the taste buds of all who passed. Nearby, a group of children practiced their acrobatic routine, their laughter ringing out like a chorus of songbirds as they tumbled and somersaulted through the air.

The village had seemed to expand, its boundaries stretching to accommodate the influx of visitors. What had once been a humble, desert-cusp village was now transformed into a thriving, bustling spontaneous city. The air hummed as the mingling of cultures and customs painted a vivid tableau of connection.

Zeni, halfway through her second skewer of grilled fish, continued marveling at the remarkable individuals that the festival had attracted. A group of musicians, their skin as dark as the night sky and their hair intricately braided with beads and feathers, played haunting melodies on flutes and drums that seemed to resonate with the very heartbeat of the earth. Across the square, a troupe of dancers, clothed in diaphanous silks that fluttered like butterfly wings, swirled and leaped with a grace and fluidity that defied gravity.

Among the crowd, a woman with skin the color of ivory and hair that cascaded in a waterfall of silver moved with a quiet, otherworldly grace. Her eyes, the pale blue of winter ice, seemed to hold a depth of wisdom that belied her youthful appearance. She conversed with a boisterous, red-haired man whose laughter rang out like a peal of thunder, his muscular arms adorned with intricate, swirling tattoos that seemed to come alive with each gesticulation. Zeni paused to consider them.

Ka-sen, she thought, using the term she’d somehow only just learned. Broadcasting their celebrity like some kind of ancient-history, fantasy influencers.

She watched the two disappear into the crowd, and thought that, if she tried, she could still sense their relative location, even though she couldn’t see them any longer.

The village was a vibrant tapestry of life, each person a unique thread weaving together the intricate, beautiful story of the festival. Everywhere Zeni looked, there were new sights, sounds, and experiences to discover. As the sun began its slow crawl high above, the festivities shifted into full swing.

Children darted through the crowd, their delighted shrieks filling the air as they chased one another in a game of tag. Nearby, a group of adults tested their skill and strength in a spirited game of tug-of-war, their faces flushed with exertion and laughter. The air was thick with the scents of exotic spices and tantalizing aromas as food vendors hawked their wares, offering a delectable array of treats that catered to every palate.

As Zeni moved through the throngs of people, her heart swelled with a sense of wonder and belonging. Here, in this incredible place that had sprung up from the desert sands, she found herself surrounded by a world of possibilities, a myriad of lives and stories that she had never before imagined.

“I’m going to need another skewer,” she said.