On one vibrant corner of the city, the festival's pulse seemed to skip a beat as the collective curiosity of the crowd gravitated toward a single, magnetic point.
Kaelen sat upon a simple wooden chair at the edge of the thoroughfare, looking less like a man and more like a monolith of silent, grounded power. Before him sat a low, sturdy table — a makeshift altar for a game of sheer, unadulterated strength — where a man had just stood up, walking away with the hollow, downcast look of one whose pride had been stripped away by an immovable mountain.
Rose stepped forward from the shadows of the crowd, her silhouette sharp and elegant in her new festival attire. She lowered herself toward Kaelen, the silk of her sleeves whispering against the air as she placed a hand near his ear to veil her words from the prying ears of the masses.
"Kaelen, you have to give them a sliver of hope to get more mone — I mean, rivals," she whispered, her voice like velvet-wrapped steel while her eyes danced with a predatory, golden greed. "Don't just win by the second; it is bad for the business of destiny."
"Got it," Kaelen replied with a short, soldierly nod, his expression as unreadable as a stone tablet.
The game was a primitive display of raw force — arm-wrestling — a contest that prohibited any skills or Aura-reinforcement. For Kaelen, who possessed no magical skills to speak of but held a physical 'Existence' that defied mortal logic, it was a guaranteed path to victory.
"Next participant! Step up, place your bets, and test your fate!" the stall owner bellowed, his voice cracking with the excitement of a man watching a gold mine in human form.
The next challenger — a man built like an ox with arms as thick as tree trunks — slammed his coins onto the table and sat. He gripped Kaelen's hand, his knuckles turning white as he prepared for the clash.
"Start!"
With the shout, the man's face contorted into a mask of pure, straining agony. Kaelen, however, did not immediately crush him. He allowed his arm to tremble slightly, a performance of struggle that made the crowd lean in with bated breath, their hearts thumping in sync with the perceived tension.
He let his hand tilt toward the table, inches from defeat, acting as if he were about to lose everything. Then, with a sudden, controlled slam, he pinned the man's hand to the wood with the finality of a closing tomb.
"The winner is Sir Kaelen!"
As the owner announced the victory, Rose's hands moved with a blurring, instinctive speed — sweeping the pile of betted coins into her embrace like a hawk claiming its kill, a satisfied smirk blooming on her lips.
---
A few steps away, a different kind of anomaly was taking place — one governed not by strength, but by a luck so unnatural it felt like a celestial glitch.
"And the color isss… Black!"
The crowd's eyes flew upward in disbelief as the wheel stopped. They peered closely at the table, checking for hidden magnets or spectral threads, yet they found only the cold, honest wood.
Lucien stood there with a nonchalant smirk, his fingers drumming rhythmically against the edge of the betting table. He had not known his own luck was a weapon until Vionette had suggested — with a cryptic, knowing smile — that he try his hand at the games of chance at least once.
"Lucien, you won again!" Elan jumped onto his back with a cry of joy, her arms wrapping around his neck as if she were trying to catch the lightning of his success.
"How much do we have now?" Lucien asked, his eyes crinkling as he felt the warmth of her against his back.
"Thirty-two gold coins in total… and one hundred and forty-two silver," Elan whispered, her eyes wide as she clutched the heavy pouch.
"Okay then," Lucien grabbed the bag and slid the entire weight of their fortune onto the red square. "Put all to red this time!"
…
With their pockets heavy and their hearts light, the four began to navigate the sea of people. Kaelen, Lucien, and Rose led the way with the easy confidence of those who held authority in the palms of their hands.
Elan, however, trailed a few steps behind, her head bowed as if the very air of their presence was a weight she was not yet fit to carry. She felt like a small sparrow flying in the wake of eagles, her heart fluttering with the anxiety of standing beside such high-ranking figures.
Lucien turned his head slightly, his red eyes catching her hesitation. He slowed his pace, his shadow merging with hers until they walked in unison. He leaned down, his voice a low, intimate murmur in her ear that sent a shiver through her soul.
"Don't get behind, Elan. They aren't going to eat you."
"But…" she whispered, her hand pressed against her chest as if trying to keep her heart from leaping out.
"No buts. Or I won't give you any more kisses for the rest of the night."
Elan's head snapped up, her cheeks flushing a brilliant, rosy hue that rivaled the festival lanterns. Her shy demeanor evaporated, replaced by a momentary flash of feisty defiance as her mood shifted like she was Lucien's boss.
"Wh — who wants your kisses anyway? You're the one that forced me to kiss you earlier!"
"We'll go with that then," Lucien chuckled, knowing her heart was beating for him despite her words.
She'll think she's in a dream if she ever sees how 'those two' act for their positions.
He placed his palms behind his head, making a questionable face before smiling to himself, already imagining Elan's reaction.
"Hey! Miss Rose! Miss Rose!"
A high-pitched shout tore through the festive atmosphere. They turned to see Elina and Lina charging toward them, their arms overflowing with an architectural feat of food. Trays of meat, mountains of candy, and skewers of fruit were stacked so high they practically reached their chins.
"You two… what is… this?" Rose asked, her eyes darting between the food and the grease-stained girls.
"Ih's foud to eut, wmy?" Elina replied, her mouth half-full as her draconic tail expertly held a large lollipop, occasionally bringing it to her lips for a lick.
"Eat first before talking!" Rose shouted, the maternal frustration she usually reserved for Noa and Vionette now spilling over onto the younger pair.
While the conversation went on, Elan stood in a state of absolute shock. Her face was a question mark itself; the rumored dragon of Crimvane was right in front of her, but the creature looked more like a spoiled, hungry brat than a world-shaking monster.
"Miss Rose… what are you guys doing?" Lina spoke up, looking at the frustrated Rose with wide, curious eyes. "Can we join in too?"
Rose looked at her, the rejection dying in her throat. Seeing Lina's cute, expectant face, the words of refusal simply would not come out.
"Who is that beside the dragon? Is she another dragon?" Elan whispered to Lucien, her voice trembling.
"No," he shook his head with a quiet sigh. "That's Lord Noa's little sister, Lina."
"What?!" Elan leaned back in surprise, and Lucien tapped her back, trying to anchor her before she fainted from the sheer weight of the introductions.
"Hello guys~! How you doing?"
This time, the words came from the other side of the crossroads. Noa and Vionette approached, their presence weaving through the crowd like a thread of gold through rough wool. Immediately after hearing the familiar, melodic voice, Rose put a hand over her face in a gesture of weary resignation.
Vionette had her face resting against Noa's shoulder, her arm entwined with his. Both their faces were glowing with a joy that felt separate from the festival itself — a radiant, bright smile emanating from them that made them look more like a painting of spring than the rulers of a war-torn land.
"Mmmm…" Lina sharpened her eyes, placing two fingers below her chin in a mock-detective pose. "Why are you guys 'too' happy? Did something happen while you were alone?"
Noa smiled, but his eyes flickered with a playful, dangerous light that didn't match the sweetness of his expression.
"Hahahah — why do you want to know, you brat?"
"N — nothing… just continue the good work?" Lina backed off, her instincts smelling a path of imminent punishment if she pushed further.
While Noa was occupied with Lina, Elan looked at him in a mixture of confusion and visceral fear.
Why is he talking to her like that? Doesn't he know she's the lord's sister? If this goes on… but why isn't anyone getting angry at him?
She looked at Kaelen, then Rose, and finally at Lucien, searching for a sign of royal protocol.
"He won't act like one, but that's Lord Noa," Lucien said, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders. "Just get used to it."
"That's… him? Then," she turned toward the woman who held his hand. "That must be—"
Thump!
As Elan's eyes met Vionette's crimson irises, the world seemed to freeze. For a fleeting second, Elan felt as if invisible silk threads were being woven around her soul — pulling her into a state of absolute, crushing submission. The air grew heavy, the sounds of the festival fading into a dull roar.
"Who is this?" Vionette asked, her head tilting as she lifted it from Noa's shoulder.
"This is my girlfriend I talked about, Lady Vionette," Lucien said, extending his hands toward Elan. "She's here to join us. That wouldn't be a problem, right?"
As Vionette blinked the strange feeling immediately vanished, and Elan regained her breath heavily, her head snapping down toward the ground as if the cobblestones were the only safe thing left in the world.
"Oh, that's her? You two look so identical, almost like siblings." She walked toward Elan, the fierce aura replaced by a warm smile. "Of course she can come with us anytime. We don't mind at all."
"Elan? Elan?"
"Ah — yes?" After Lucien shook her, she snapped out of her trance. "It's an honor to meet your majesties! Please forgive my insolence!" She knelt abruptly on the ground.
"Dude…" Vionette looked at her with an exhausted, slightly slumped posture. "Get up. I don't want that formal stuff from you guys."
"…Yes." Elan stood up with a wary face, the terror of the earlier sensation still tangling in the back of her mind like a ghost.
"Lucien, my dude," Noa said, leaning in and dropping an elbow onto Lucien's shoulder with a mischievous smirk. "So… have you guys done 'that' yet or not?"
"No, not yet. But why are you asking this of all people?" Lucien raised an eyebrow, a smirk of his own playing on his lips.
"That's right, Lord Noa… you two have zero right to ask that," Kaelen added, looking at Noa with a face of perfect, blank judgment.
"I mean, it's true! You two get flustered over something so little, and then the next minute you're doing something a hundred times more embarrassing in public!" Elina nodded vigorously, extending her hands in dramatic frustration. "And then next time, it becomes reversed! What kind of emotional shifts are those?!"
"Huh? When the fuck did that happen — OUCH!" Suddenly, Rose's fist descended upon the top of Noa's head with the weight of a falling star.
"Keep your words moderate, you idiot. There are little kids listening," Rose hissed.
"Oh c'mon! Those two rascals don't act like 'little kids' to me!"
That's because of you two doing stuff like that in front of them! Rose thought, her gaze darting from Vionette to Noa.
She wanted to shout, but she knew the argument would backfire if they learned about her arm-wrestling hustle.
Elan looked from one person to the next with a face of pure bewilderment.
'Just go with it,' he said… but how am I supposed to accept this? Is this really the people who turned the war tides around?
She saw an idiotic, hungry dragon; a cute, pouting girl; a money-addicted maid and knight; and two carefree rulers who seemed to exist in their own world.
"Anyways, what were you guys going to do?" Vionette tapped on Elan's confused shoulder. "If nothing, let's go do some stuff together."
"We…" Rose looked around, her mind still on her coin pouch. "Actually, we were trying to see what to do too."
"Great then," Vionette smiled with a small, light clap of her hands. "Let's all go together, but first," she looked at the tall building they had stayed in before, "let's get one more person."
***
On one of the high balconies of the grand estate — far above the swirling lights and chaotic joy of the commoners' festival — Seliora stood alone. Her elbows rested on the cold marble fence, one hand cradling a glass of dark wine while the other was positioned thoughtfully beneath her chin.
She looked at the festival below like a goddess watching a flickering star, taking a slow, deliberate sip from the wine.
[Blink]
"What are you thinking about so deeply?"
"Nothing… but what are you doing here," Seliora turned toward the voice with a soft, melancholic smile. "Noa?"
"I came here to pick you up," he smiled back as he closed the distance between them, his presence filling the empty space of the balcony. "We didn't have that outfit made just so you could drink here alone, now did we?"
"Heheh~ Fair enough. Did my sister send you? She's always so thoughtful." Seliora closed her eyes before extending a hand toward him with the elegant grace of a high-born royal. "Very well then. Take me to the party."
Noa took her hand, going with the flow of the moment. He turned her around smoothly, the fabric of her dress swirling like a blooming flower, before placing his hands behind her knees and back, lifting her up in a sudden, effortless princess carry.
"Really strong, aren't you?" Seliora placed her hands on his chest, making an anchor for herself as she looked into his eyes. "Is this how you always take my sister?"
"Most of the time."
[Blink]