Welcome to Gaia! ::

The atmosphere on the embassy grounds is quite naturally festive, weaving through the crowd are vendors selling the traditional, brightly colored Aurentine sweetcakes offered to both the living and the dead during Parentalia as well as white orchids.

At one of the outer edges of the plaza, a group of Aurentine nuns softly sings hymns to Destra's Eternal Flame as they collect donations for a local orphanage.

Those close to the center of the Gardens might have noticed a long, low wooden stage standing before the statue of Aubeline. Small cloth banners hang from the front of it, and two large lanterns hang on either side.

Two pretty young women, twins it seems, bustle about the stage, their long, colorful skirts swishing about their legs as they move. Their motions are fluid, like those of well-practiced dancers.

With a mischievous glance toward the crowd beginning to gather in anticipation of a performance, the two young women motion behind them and seemingly from nowhere an eerily pleasant tune begins to play.

The two begin to sway gracefully in time with the music, dancing in nearly perfect unison before beginning an impressive acrobat tumbling act, flying across the stage in a beautifully synchronized embrace.

The growing crowd cheers and crows at each feat of strength and agility, clearly enthralled by the two young women.

With a final twirl and tumble the two young women complete their routine.

From each of their open hands fly small capsules which land throughout the audience.

Plumes of colorful smoke shoot up where the capsules fell, almost seeming to glow as they curl past the lanterns that hang overhead. The smoke twists and lingers in spite of the growing breeze, obscuring the stage from view as the audience cheers and chatters, awaiting the next act promised by the continuation of the music.

To most there is nothing unusual about the scene, the festival's jubilation always an odd contrast to the ostensible reason for the celebration.

But to the more trained eye, and the most attuned senses, something is...off, the smoke almost too thick, the music almost frenzied behind the stage, and a strange, unfamiliar odor is just barely detectable on the breeze, mixing with food and incense on the wind.

One might almost say that they saw figures in the smoke, twisting and writhing to the sound of the music, but then pareidolia isn't an uncommon phenomena, particularly in ever shifting forms of a smoke cloud.

You cannot tell if the performers remain onstage or have vanished in the smoke, but it is clear that this is not the end of the evening's entertainment.