The city streets vibrated in a fashion the capital was not used to. Banners billowed, lanterns bobbed in the night air, and the aroma of roasting meats, sweet desserts, and spiced wines blended with the river's tang just beyond. This was the Festival of Bonds, celebrated to commemorate the courage, loyalty, and sacrifices of the city's guardians—though few were aware that it was also a time of peace before an unfathomable tempest.
The square for the festival was a splatter of color. Merchants bellowed, musicians tootled, and performers juggled knives and fire with reckless abandon. Swords were once sheathed, spells in their holders, and warriors permitted themselves to breathe, laugh, and celebrate.
Kael strolled hand in hand with Lyrielle, his elven friend. She smiled at a street juggler who had started his hat on fire accidentally. "You see, humans enjoy a bit more of this fire than elves do," she teased, pulling him along to a candied apple stall.
"I think it's the sparks," Kael replied, smiling. "Not the flames themselves." He bent down to purchase two apples, handing one to Lyrielle, who accepted it with a mischievous grin before taking a playful bite.
Close by, Aelira, Kael's sister, strolled with Thargrim, the half-demon fighter whose stern expression had relaxed with time. Thargrim had purchased a box of finely crafted wooden trinkets, which he fumbled to offer to Aelira. "For. protection," he grumbled, his flush pale but unmistakable. Aelira giggled and secured the trinkets to her belt. "I'll make sure you do," she teased.
The celebration wasn't just for the big party. Between dwarves and Beastmen, connections had been quietly being made. Grumli, the dwarf fighter, sat next to Lyra, the Beastman girl whose swiftness and cunning had gotten the better of him during training more than once. They ate from a shared plate of roasted meats, good-naturedly debating whose clan had the better recipes, until both of them laughed so hard they almost choked.
The other five A-rank adventuring parties had also found some time to have fun. Ravok of the Lionheart Vanguard was paired with a white tiger cadet he had fought in training exercises. Their light-hearted joking elicited chuckles from passersby. The members of Phoenix Flame played a game of magical juggling, and the members of Dragon's Might attempted to wow an audience of elven festival-goers with acrobatics and small fire magic.
Even the Royal Academy cadets joined in, albeit less graciously. Zerath tried to do a fire trick above a plate of candied apples, which merely charred the edge of an adjacent banner. Lyrielle groaned, but Kael couldn't help chuckling, observing the manner in which the young demon's pride rose at being told he was doing it wrong.
Strength and skill games were scattered across the festival site. Archery competitions, jousting on diminutive wooden horses, and magical control tests were popular attractions. Pairs paired up for trials, giggling as one inevitably bested the other. Through it all, Kael and Lyrielle were drawn to the more secluded areas, snatching a few minutes apart, hands touching and fingers intertwining.
The humor was ongoing when Thargrim, trying a drinking competition with Borin the dwarf, almost knocked over a table of pastry, causing pies and spit-roasted sausages to scatter across cobblestones. Aelira was unable to contain her giggles, and Kael ducked behind a lantern pole to conceal his smile, shaking his head at his sister's mischief.
With the darkness deepening, the people converged at the city's largest plaza, faces upturned in expectation. Draevor, somewhat out of character, watched from the periphery of the plaza, quiet as a stone. Even the adventurer groups and cadets halted their merrymaking, sensing the gravity of the situation.
Then, with a dramatic stillness, the sky ignited. Fireworks burst in shining cascades of crimson, gold, and silver. Sparks rained down, lighting up the grinning faces below. Lyrielle breathed softly, her head on Kael's shoulder, while Aelira clutched Thargrim's hand hard, the two of them transfixed by the spectacle. Grumli and Lyra, and the other couples spread out across the square, stood stunned, laughter replaced by awed silence.
The fireworks moved in trajectories that seemed to echo the banners of the city: lions, dragons, phoenixes, and serpents. Others shone like tiny comets, following trajectories of light across the evening sky. The last great explosion filled the air with shimmering light that rained down on the crowd, temporarily drenching all of them in radiant color. For an instant, the overwhelming presence of monsters and war receded, replaced by joy, camaraderie, and the brief lightness of being.
Kael looked around, embracing the sight. The adventurers and cadets, the dwarves and Beastmen, demons and humans and elves—all mixed together in laughter and trickery and friendship. And at the center of it all, he had Lyrielle's hand, feeling her quiet strength and devotion. It was a fragile peace, one that did not last, but one that he would never forget.
As the last firework faded into a cascade of golden sparks, Kael whispered, "We'll face whatever comes… together." Lyrielle smiled, eyes reflecting the remnants of light in the sky. Around them, the festival continued, laughter and joy mingling with shadows—but for this night, the city and its defenders could simply be alive, and be together.