As the laughter faded into a soft hush, Nujah rose to his feet and stretched, a faint smile on his lips.
> "I'm really glad you all came, sisters… but where are my brothers?"
Mabaka let out an exaggerated sigh and waved her hand in mock frustration.
> "Straight to training, every single one of them. The moment they arrived. Well, except for Herinhard. Someone has to govern Shiora, after all. But he said he'd join when he can steal a moment."
She leaned in with a playful smirk.
> "Actually, we all came by yesterday. Wanted to check on you. But you and Maria were completely out, and our dear little gatekeeper Mevrias wouldn't let us in. Said you needed rest more than flowers and chatter."
Nujah chuckled and moved forward instinctively.
> "Then let's go find them—"
But his legs faltered mid-step.
Before he could fall, Mitra was at his side in a flash—lightning-fast, arms steadying him.
Her voice trembled with both fear and frustration.
> "Are you serious right now?! You can't even walk straight, and you think you're ready to train with Shinrei? He moves faster than shadows!"
Vercurius appeared beside them, arms folded, gaze steady.
> "Nujah, your task right now isn't training. It's survival. Six days. That's what you need to get through. Let us handle the hard part for once, alright?"
Before Nujah could reply, Mabaka had already looped an arm through his and hoisted him upright with theatrical flair.
> "Good. Because tonight, you're coming with us instead."
Nujah raised an eyebrow, uncertain. "Where exactly?"
Mabaka's grin widened with delight.
> "To the Skyglass Festival. Don't tell me you forgot about Whispers of Shiora."
She twirled dramatically, her cloak catching the light.
> "And the Lenny Lightward Troupe is performing! Illusions, fireworks… but not ordinary ones. These flames weave stories. Each spark becomes a memory from our lives—painting it across the sky."
> "We haven't done something like this together in so long," she added more softly. "And Mitra's going with her father tonight. I think… after everything, we deserve at least one night of peace."
Mitra clasped her hands, tilting her head with a look Nujah knew all too well.
> "Please?"
Nujah gave in with a small sigh and a smile.
> "Alright. What kind of performance is it, really?"
Mitra's entire face lit up.
> "It's not just a show! It's stories in the sky—memories that become light. It's... beautiful. You'll see."
And then, as if on cue, Maria's calm voice anchored the room.
She looked around at each of them, then turned her gaze toward the sea.
> "Whispers of Shiora isn't a festival you speak at… it's one you feel.
Each wish is made in silence—no words, no sound.
Not shouted to the stars, but carried gently by the wind.
And what makes it special... is that a wish doesn't need to come from just one heart."
Mitra's expression shifted—curious, hopeful.
Maria smiled, continuing softly:
> "Those who share a hope,
a dream…
they can release a lantern together.
Because sometimes, a wish is born not in one soul,
but in the soul of a family.
And when shared, that light burns even brighter."
Mitra's eyes shimmered. She turned to her father beside her and gave a quiet, eager nod.
Nujah watched in silence, the warmth of the moment settling around him like a blanket of gentle wind and memory.
---