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Years passed after the Festival of a Thousand Roads, but travelers still spoke about it as if it had ended only the day before.Across Arabia and beyond, merchants remembered the songs sung under lanterns.Scholars recalled the long discussions held in the House of Records.Children who had attended the festival grew into adults, carrying those memories with them on every journey they made.Narala itself changed very little.And yet, it changed all the time.Every season brought new ideas.Every caravan carried new questions.Every generation added another layer to the city's identity.The oasis had become a place where nothing stayed the same.Even tradition kept growing.