The roses swayed lazily in the warm morning breeze as Lara and Nora finally lay in the meadow, catching their breath and letting their laughter fade into soft giggles. The sun had climbed higher now, spilling golden light across the hilltop and painting the petals with streaks of fire and amber. For a moment, they simply watched, letting the quiet hum of the meadow fill the space between their playful exhaustion and the stillness of the world beyond.
Nora sat up, brushing bits of rose petals from her skirts, her chest rising and falling as she took in the view. "You know," she said, still grinning, "the Festival of the Stars is only two weeks away. Everyone in the village is going to be so busy preparing."
Lara's eyes widened. "Already? It feels like last year's festival only just ended." She shifted onto her elbows, brushing the grass from her hair. "What do they need to do first?"
Nora waved toward the valley below, where the village began to stir. "Lumivara's festival is no small thing. They'll start with the lanterns, weaving garlands, baking treats, and decorating the square. Even the elders are busy, making sure the ceremonial fires are ready for the night."
Lara leaned back, arms behind her head, gazing at the distant village. "Lumivara… she's the goddess who saved our ancestors, right?"
Nora nodded solemnly. "Yes. Long ago, our people were hunted, tortured, and slaughtered in wars from faraway lands. Lumivara's heart ached for them, and she guided the survivors to this valley, hiding them beneath these mountains where no one could find them. That's why we're here, Lara. She protected us, kept our line safe."
The girls fell quiet, imagining the ancient paths their ancestors had walked, the fear and hope that must have filled their hearts. Lara reached out and touched a rose petal, its softness a reminder of how delicate life could be, and yet how strong it had grown.
Nora grinned, nudging her lightly. "Come on, don't look so serious. The festival is still two weeks away. But when it happens, everyone will honor her—the streets decorated with lanterns, flowers, and ribbons, stories of her courage and guidance told to every child, even the smallest ones who don't yet understand all of it."
Lara laughed lightly, imagining herself weaving through the village in a garland of flowers. "I love this time of year. Everyone is so busy, but there's always laughter. And the food! Granny's special porridge, the bread, the honeycakes…" She paused, sniffing the air dramatically. "I wonder if there'll be fresh strawberries this year."
Nora's laugh joined hers. "Of course there will be. And don't forget the dances. All the young women and men practice for weeks to honor Lumivara. I can't wait to see Granny telling stories under the lanterns again. She gets so dramatic, Lara. You'd think she was leading the ancestors herself."
"Granny's stories are the best part," Lara admitted. "Even when she's exaggerating, it feels like magic. I think it's why I love the festival so much." She lay back on the grass again, staring at the sky as a soft breeze stirred the petals around them. "I hope Lumivara likes it when we celebrate. I want her to know we remember her."
"She will," Nora said softly. "She watches over us. That's why the festival is so special. She guided our people here, gave them hope when there was none, and now we celebrate her light."
As they spoke, the sound of the village carried up the hill: the creak of wooden carts, the calls of villagers checking on each other, the rhythmic hammering of lantern frames, and the laughter of children running errands for their families. The morning was alive, every sound a reminder that life went on, full of warmth and community, just as Lumivara had intended.
"Hey, look!" Nora pointed toward the village square, where villagers were already setting up wooden stalls for the festival. "See? Even the smallest children are helping. And the men are bringing firewood for the ceremonial pyres. Everyone has a role."
Lara squinted, spotting Cole moving with confidence among the villagers. Even from here, she could see his easy grin as he carried baskets of fruit, offering them to anyone who passed. Her lips curled into a small, unimpressed smile. "And there's Cole. I wonder if he thinks carrying fruit will impress anyone."
Nora giggled, elbowing her lightly. "He's been staring at you all morning, you know. Don't think I didn't notice."
"I don't care," Lara said firmly, flipping a rose petal in her fingers. "He's… well, he's just Cole. I've got more important things to do than notice him."
"Sure, sure," Nora teased. "You say that now, but we'll see when he tries to give you a garland of roses during the festival."
Lara groaned dramatically.
The girls burst into laughter again, the sound carried by the wind across the meadow. A soft warmth spread through Lara's chest, the comfort of friendship and the anticipation of the festival mingling like sunlight and rose petals.
They lay there for a while longer, watching the village awaken completely now, until the sun climbed high enough to chase away the last shadows of morning. It was time to return to help with preparations, but neither wanted to leave the meadow, their favorite place in the world.
Finally, Lara sat up and brushed the grass from her skirts, smiling at the rolling hills and the sea of roses behind them. "We better go. Granny will probably scold me if I don't help with the garlands."
Nora stood and dusted her skirts as well, her braids bouncing with her movements. "And Lumivara will expect us to honor her properly."
The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of earth and wildflowers as Lara and Nora descended the hill. The roses of the meadow faded behind them, petals clinging to their hair and hems, remnants of the laughter and chasing that had filled the early hours. The sun spilled soft golden light over the fields, illuminating the winding path that led down toward the village.
As they drew nearer, the first signs of activity greeted them. Villagers moved with purpose, preparing for the Festival of the Stars, which was only two weeks away. Baskets of herbs and wildflowers were carried carefully toward the square, ribbons and small carved trinkets were laid out along doorsteps, and the clatter of wooden tools could be heard as stalls were repaired and swept clean. Smoke drifted lazily from hearths, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread and roasting meat. The village seemed alive with quiet anticipation, a rhythm born of careful preparation rather than haste.
At the bottom of the hill, near the fork where the path led into the village, a figure stood waiting. Cole leaned against the wooden fence that lined the road, hands tucked into his tunic sleeves, eyes following the girls as they came into view. When Lara and Nora neared, he straightened, stepping forward.
"Good morning," he said, his voice calm but carrying over the gentle bustle of the village. "Heading to the square already, I see?"
Lara slowed her pace, brushing petals from her skirts and adjusting her braid. "Yes," she replied, her tone polite but firm. "Granny is waiting, and we have errands to run before the festival."
Nora stepped beside her, glancing at Cole with a small smile. "Everything seems busy already. I didn't expect so many people out this early."
Cole nodded. "The festival approaches quickly. Everyone is making sure they're ready. There's a lot to do before the full moon." His gaze softened slightly as he looked at Lara. "I hope you're not overworking yourself. Even with your usual energy, you should take care."
Lara raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on her face. "I can handle myself, Cole. Don't worry."
The three of them moved slowly down the path, the grass giving way to worn stones as the village came closer into view. Children ran past, chasing after stray chickens, their laughter mixing with the quiet shuffle of adults preparing booths and hanging lanterns. Women carried baskets of colorful petals and herbs, pausing to chat with neighbors, while men checked tools and repaired fences in preparation for the celebrations.
Cole fell into step beside the girls, hands behind his back, watching the activity around them. "It's amazing," he said, nodding toward the square. "You can see how much everyone cares for Lumivara. Each home, each stall… everyone is adding something of themselves to the preparations."
Lara's gaze softened as she looked around. "Yes," she said quietly. "The festival always feels… special. Like the whole village is connected to something bigger than ourselves."
Nora smiled at her friend, then glanced at Cole. "Even you seem caught up in it, though you usually pretend not to care."
Cole chuckled, shrugging. "I enjoy it. I just don't shout about it." He paused, then added, more softly, "It wouldn't feel the same if you weren't excited for it."
Lara rolled her eyes, hiding her slight smile behind a curl of hair. "I'm always excited for the festival. You don't have to remind me."
The path curved gently, opening onto the village square. The heart of the preparations was already apparent: wooden frames for lanterns stood in neat rows, tables were lined with handwoven cloths, and bundles of flowers waited to be pinned to doors and fences. Villagers greeted each other warmly, carrying supplies or exchanging instructions. The air was filled with a quiet hum of activity, anticipation, and the soft scent of incense, petals, and earth.
As they approached the square, Granny's cottage came into view. Smoke drifted lazily from the chimney, and the door stood open, the aroma of baked bread and simmering stew spilling into the morning air. Lara's pace quickened, Nora at her side, weaving carefully past the bustling villagers.
Cole fell back slightly, giving them room while still keeping pace. "Be careful in the crowd," he said, his voice low, meant only for them.
Lara nodded, brushing her skirts again, feeling the soft brush of petals against her fingers. "We always are. Don't worry."
Finally, they reached Granny's door, where the old woman was standing, hands on her hips, a small smile creasing her face as she watched them approach. "There you are! I thought you'd be lost in the village before the festival even began," she said, her voice warm.
Lara laughed softly, tugging at Nora's hand before stepping up. "We're here, Granny. We've been careful."
Granny nodded approvingly. "Good. Now, help me with the preparations. The festival of the stars is not far, and there is much to do before the moon rises."
Behind them, Cole lingered a few steps back, watching as the girls entered the cottage. His gaze followed them for a moment longer before he turned back to the square, taking in the soft bustle of villagers working together, petals tucked into braids, and lantern frames waiting to be adorned.
Even as Lara and Nora disappeared inside, the quiet hum of activity, the scent of earth and petals, and the soft morning light combined into a sense of promise: the Festival of Lumivara was coming, and with it, days of warmth, laughter, and a connection to all who had built the village, guided by the heart of their goddess long ago.