Passing the road sign that marked Naranya, the world outside the window changed into a different color.
If Cassandra was the amalgamation of dusk, towers, and contemplators.
Then Naranya was a world of flowers, exquisite handicrafts, and merry dancers.
Unknown white spherical flowers bloomed alongside the road; their unattended disarray scattered one's thoughts into a kaleidoscope of colors. Azure-headed sparrows flew overhead with a chirp, then perched upon the curved spires of the slanted-roofed houses, surveying this carriage of strangers along with the weathervanes at the very top.
Before Lyle's toes could touch the tender grass, the aroma of flowers mingled with the earthiness hit him like a heavy punch, sending the weariness of the journey flying away.
