It was Patricia who had the idea.
— We've been carrying too many shadows, — she said one night, while everyone sat silently drinking at the Base's bar. — We need... to change the air.
The other witches exchanged glances.
Helena finally agreed:
— An event. Something to remind us who we are.
Nikita smiled, her eyes lighting up:
— A party. Italian style. 1950s.
Elegant clothes, wine, cigars, music.
A banquet worthy of a Venetian regatta.
—
Kael listened in silence.
After a few minutes, he raised his glass.
— If we are to remember life... then let it be so.
—
Preparations took over the Command Base.
Colorful fabrics covered the ancient stone walls.
Golden lights hung like private constellations.
Long tables were set, filled with rustic dishes: cheeses, olives, pastas, aromatic breads.
An improvised stage was built for music — Italian jazz, romantic melodies.
Wine barrels were opened.
Cigars, cigarettes, and even hookahs were distributed.
And for the first time in a long while... the Command Base pulsed as if breathing joy.
—
Everyone dressed like gentlemen and ladies of the era: flared dresses, light linen suits, charming tilted hats.
Kael, in a fitted dark suit, looked like he had stepped out of an old film.
The witches — especially Nikita — did not hide their glances.
—
The celebration lasted two days.
Between dances, toasts, and easy conversations, tension seemed to evaporate.
Otrho, ever wary, even said:
— If the Abyss watches us... today, it's distracted.
And he laughed, a rare thing.
—
Almost at the end of the second night, under the soft light of a coming dawn, Nikita approached Kael.
They were on the suspended balcony, away from the music.
She held a glass of wine.
— You carry the weight of worlds, — she said, staring into the golden void beyond the base.
Kael didn't reply immediately.
— And still, you find a way to dance — she added with a smile.
With the courage of the celebration and her own feelings, Nikita lightly touched his arm.
— Maybe... you don't have to carry it all alone.
Kael turned his face slightly, as if unaware of the intention.
He diverted politely, as though he hadn't understood.
But everyone watching — especially Marie and Helena — saw.
They saw Nikita step back, smiling bittersweetly.
They saw the seed of jealousy born in silent glances.
—
And yet, in that brief instant, the world almost seemed whole again.