The afternoon sun slowly moved across the sky, painting Greenhollow in a warm golden glow.
The festival showed no signs of slowing down.
If anything, the streets had become even more lively.
Music echoed between the wooden buildings, the smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, and the voices of people enjoying themselves blended together into a sound John rarely heard.
Happiness.
Not the kind that came after victory.
Not the temporary relief after surviving a dangerous battle.
Just simple happiness.
For some reason, that felt stranger to him than any monster he had ever faced.
---
John stood near the edge of the festival grounds, looking at the small white flower still resting between his fingers.
The flower was simple.
Nothing special.
It didn't contain magic.
It wasn't a rare herb.
It wasn't connected to some ancient dragon treasure.
It was just a flower someone had given him.
Yet he found himself keeping it.
A small smile appeared on his face.
