The bonfire was much larger than the fires they had on the farm to clear out brush when expanding the fields.
This one crackled with vigor. Stacks of firewood arranged in careful layers sent smoke trailing high above the village square. It wasn't just for warmth or light, no, it was the signal that the festival was nearing its peak.
Children ran in circles near the edge, waving sticks with colored ribbons. Musicians had taken up drums and flutes at the edge of the crowd, and the first of the fire dancers stepped into the ring.
Jacob watched, eyes wide as flames swirled in practiced arcs. Torches spun, feet stamped, and the crowd clapped to the beat. Sparks drifted through the dancers and into the crowd. The heat kissed his face, but he didn't retreat.
Sera stood nearby, arms crossed loosely as she watched the performers.
"They practice all year for this," she said without looking away, evidently mesmerized.
"Yeah," Jacob replied. "It really seems like it."
One of the dancers kicked a torch high into the air, caught it without missing a beat, then twirled it behind his back. The crowd whooped, cheers all around.
After a few more flourishes, the music slowed. A single drumbeat began to pulse, slow and steady, and the crowd parted as a man in patch-covered overalls shuffled into view.
"Old Thom," someone whispered.
He held a long pole with a fuse running down the side and carried a leather satchel slung across his chest. The fire dancers stepped aside as he raised the pole skyward. A few sparks popped from the tip.
Then the sky lit up.
Bright bursts exploded above the square, blooming into fiery flowers and spinning wheels of color. Some whistled, others crackled. One shaped like a star fizzled out just before hitting the ground, drawing cheers from the children.
Jacob laughed without meaning to, with a childlike glee. "Did he make all of those?"
Sera nodded. "He brings them out every year, but he seems to just appear for the fireworks and then disappears without a word."
Jacob grinned and looked back up. For a moment, everything felt surreal. There was a lot of color, light, and the aura of the crowd around him. He had a feeling of belonging in his chest that he wasn't quite able to place.
Eventually, the last firework went off, a huge ring of gold that hung in the air longer than the rest before fading into nothing. Thom was nowhere to be seen after that.
The music shifted again, slower now. Families started gathering their things. The fire dancers bowed, and the drums fell quiet.
Arthur's voice called out through the crowd. "Jacob, time to head home."
Jacob gave Sera a small wave. "See you around?"
She smiled. "I hope so."
He jogged off to meet his family. May had her shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and Caleb looked like he had eaten half the festival. Arthur had soot on his sleeve and the calm look of a man who was ready to call it a day.
They walked home under the glow of the last few lanterns. The wind was quiet. The stars were out.
Jacob didn't say anything, but his thoughts were loud.
Tomorrow, his Trial Year would begin.
'It's only been a few weeks in this world, but I already feel like I have lived here my whole life . . . this is much better than Earth.'
Jacob stuck close to his family as they made their way back through the square. The fire had burned down to coals, and only a few dancers remained, chatting as they packed up their gear. Vendors were closing their stalls, brushing crumbs off tables, and collecting coins in small pouches.
Children ran past holding paper lanterns, the flickering candles inside casting shifting shadows over the cobblestones. Jacob caught the scent of honey cakes and spice, followed by the sharp tang of spent fireworks.
Back at the booth, most of the herbs and preserves were gone. May had already packed the remaining jars into baskets. Caleb took a seat on a bench nearby, chewing on a roasted carrot skewer like it was the best thing he'd eaten in weeks.
May turned as they arrived. "We just about sold everything. Even the dried beets."
Arthur raised a brow. "Someone bought the beets?"
"Three bags of them. Man must have been half asleep."
Jacob thought about what he just heard, but then chuckled. He was still thinking about Sera. Her voice, her presence, the quiet power of it all. It seemed like she hadn't tried to impress anyone. She was just singing, and yet, it was the most magical thing Jake had seen besides Thoms' old shop.
He looked down at his own clothes. They still looked brand new, despite the grease, smoke, and dust from the day.
'Not bad for a few low-grade enchantments . . .'
Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder. "You ready?"
Jacob nodded. "Yeah. Let's go home."
As they moved through the crowd, a stocky man in a coat that was a bit too fancy for a villager stepped out from a booth. Behind his booth was a carriage pulled by four horses that also had a covered wagon in tow.
"Arthur Hemlock," he said with a nod. "Heard your boy caused a bit of a stir."
Arthur shook his hand. "Evening, Ferrin. Still chasing silver?"
Ferrin grinned. "Always. But if you had half a mind, you'd take that kid to the city. No one there cares about carrots, but enchanted clothes? That draws in real coin."
He looked Jacob over.
"I'd take a set myself if I wasn't stuck trading silver. Might not fetch gold out here, but in Thornhold? They'd line up, quicklike. Especially if you can make some good weapons or armor."
Arthur nodded slowly. "We'll think on it."
Ferrin gave Jacob a wink and turned back to his cart.
Jacob watched him go, then turned to Arthur. "Is it true?"
Arthur glanced down at his son, a look of uncertainty on his face. "You'll find out soon enough."
They turned away from the square, the music fading behind them as more families began to leave. The sky was darker now, with the moonlight and stars giving the dirt road a silver cast.
The glow of the lanterns scattered across the road, coupled with the silence of the tired villagers making their way back home, gave the dirt road a solemn feel to it.
As they walked, Jacob caught sight of something he hadn't noticed before. A boy about his age, sitting on a cart edge, legs swinging, alone. He wasn't smiling, but he was watching. When their eyes met, the boy gave a short nod.
Jacob returned it without thinking.
He didn't know why, but something about that moment felt important.
He faced forward again, continuing home with his family.
'Tomorrow I'll be eleven . . .'