If a huge crowd packed the streets of the fishing district and the harbor, the complete opposite could be said for the north-eastern side of the city. Despite being the biggest of the three main residential areas of the city of Eneleïa and being very densely populated, it attracted very few tourists during the day, and even less since the preparations for the festival were going full swing. It wouldn’t be the same during the festivities when every single inhabitant of the port city would be parading and celebrating during the next few days but the local residents relished this period of calm before the storm. They used it to decorate their houses and to prepare themselves for the wedding ceremony. Thrista was walking in on of the secondary streets, not very busy as it usually went unnoticed by the tourists and visitors, he strolled slowly through the scarce crowd going around the small market, looking at the multicolored decorations and the well stocked displays of the local shops. His destination was a small tavern he had already visited the previous time he had come to Eneleïa, it was supposed to be located between two large houses but it seemed to be well hidden as he had already been searching for half an hour without success. Finally after turning right at a crossroads he thought he recognized he noticed the old wooden front of the establishment.
Despite its small size and its plain appearance it was one of the best spots to eat and spend the night, renowned almost exclusively to the connoisseurs for its exquisite homemade cooking and its warm welcome. The owner had a secret recipe for a delicious minestrone made of fresh zucchini, carrots, pasta and minced meat. That was where Thrista had decided to spend the few nights while he was in town as he knew the owner, a small woman nearing her fifties and whose rust colored hair barely started graying, since his father had brought him there during his first visit to Eneleïa. « En Carménie ». The sign made dark wood hung over the front door, rocking slightly to the wind. The teenager noticed it seemed to have been renovated since the last time he had seen it, the horse sculpted and painted in the center seemed to have gotten fresh colors again and paraded in its black and white coat. Thrista pushed the large door and entered, greeting anyone who might have been inside. To his surprise, as his eyes adjusted to the half-light of the room he noticed it was empty, despite his memory telling him it used to be crowded with people the few times he had been there. There were usually clients drinking, eating, laughing and playing cards around on the tables, filling the air with noise, tempting smells and a thin cloud of smoke. He stood there, letting time to his eyes to adjust for a few seconds. Finally a voice greeted him from the back of the room and he turned towards its source.
“Welcome dear visitor. Please come in, come in. I’ll be with you in a moment.”