The feast stretched across the clearing like a living thing.
Firelight flickered across the clearing, rising from open pits where slabs of meat were grilled directly over the flames. Fat hissed as it dripped into the fire, sending sparks upward while thick smoke curled lazily into the night sky. Laughter rolled freely now—loud and unrestrained.
People moved everywhere, passing skewers hand to hand, pouring drinks from shared flasks, dragging friends into spontaneous dances, arguing over nothing at all. The sharp scent of roasted meat mixed with alcohol and woodsmoke, sinking deep into my chest until it felt warm and heavy.
Vaela walked beside me, arms loose at her sides, watching me from time to time without saying anything. I could feel it—how my steps had grown lighter, how the tight knot that had been sitting in my chest had finally loosened.
She noticed.
Her lips curved faintly, satisfied.
Nearby, the leader sat with the elders at a long wooden table, their voices booming over one another as they drank from heavy cups and tore meat apart with bare hands. Elder Thryssa was there too, seated calmly among them, her presence quieter but no less commanding. They looked… relaxed. Laughing like this world wasn't full of danger.
Then the leader stood.
He rose without haste, his massive frame unfolding as he straightened, firelight stretching his shadow long across the clearing. The noise of the feast continued for a heartbeat longer—laughter, clattering cups, overlapping voices—until he lifted his head and drew in a breath.
"Grahhh—!"
The call tore through the night. It wasn't loud in the way a shout was loud. It was deep and resonant. A sound that seemed to sink into bone and soil alike. The feast faltered mid-motion. Conversations cut off. Laughter died on lips. One by one, heads turned, bodies angling toward him as if pulled by instinct rather than command.
The entire clearing fell into quiet attention.
He raised his wooden glass high, the firelight gleaming along its rim.
"Skra-all eat," he boomed, voice carrying effortlessly, "drink.. skra-enjoy today." A pause—heavy, deliberate. "Skra-long time we had feast."
For a heartbeat, there was silence—
Then the crowd erupted.
"Va'thra! Va'thra! Va'thra!"
The chant surged like a living thing—voices crashing into one another, rising and falling in wild rhythm. It rolled across the clearing again and again until the sound felt almost solid, pounding against my chest, vibrating through my bones.
I leaned closer to Vaela, raising my voice just enough to be heard over the roar.
"Sister Vaela… what is Va'thra?"
She turned toward me, lips parting to answer—
but the noise died instantly.
The leader's voice cut through the silence once more.
"Skra-have outsider here."
My heart lurched at the words. Before I could even process them, his gaze shifted—slow and deliberate, until it settled on me. There was no mistaking it. I was the one he was looking for.
"Skra-come here."
The command landed like a weight. The world seemed to narrow around it, as if the clearing itself had drawn inward. Conversations vanished, laughter died, every sound faded, replaced by the crushing awareness of being watched. I could feel eyes pressing into my back, my shoulders, my spine—curious and measuring.
Why… me?
My feet hesitated, tension coiling in my legs, but before doubt could root me in place, a sharp nudge struck my side. Vaela's elbow.
"Go."
I swallowed hard and forced a steady breath into my lungs. Then, with every gaze fixed on me, I stepped forward into the open.
Each step felt heavier than the last as I crossed the open space. The leader stood waiting, towering over me, his long hair falling loose over his shoulders, bone ornaments resting against his chest. The tattoos carved into his skin seemed darker up close, almost alive in the firelight.
I stopped in front of him.
He leaned down slightly, and his presence crashed into me like pressure beneath deep water. He wasn't doing anything—no killing intent, no surge of power—yet my lungs still struggled to pull in air, as if the space around me had grown unbearably heavy.
I lowered my head instinctively, swallowing hard as the weight of his presence pressed down on me. For a brief moment, his gaze shifted to Elder Thryssa. She met it calmly and blinked once in quiet affirmation. The leader turned back to me and exhaled slowly, the sound heavy and deliberate.
"Skra-name?" he asked.
I straightened, forcing my spine to hold and my voice not to shake. "Greetings sir. I'm Arthur."
He nodded once, as if filing the name away. "Skra-name… Kargan."
Then without warning, his hand came down and tapped my shoulder... the kind of touch that carried weight without force.
"Good fight yesterday."
The space around us rippled instantly. Murmurs broke out like disturbed water. I heard sharp intakes of breath, felt stares digging into my skin. Shock passed through the crowd, and through me.
I blinked, stunned. "Th-thank you," I managed.
Kargan straightened, already turning away as he lifted his voice again, loud enough for all to hear.
"Go. Skra-enjoy feast."
I nodded quickly, stepped back, and retreated into the crowd—my heart still pounding, the echo of his words following me long after I was gone.
The moment I turned away, his voice thundered across the clearing once more.
"Skra-enjoy!"
It was like a signal had been released. The tension shattered instantly as the feast roared back to life—laughter bursting out, voices rising, music and movement surging as if nothing had ever stopped.
When I reached Vaela, she bumped her elbow lightly into my side, a teasing glint in her eyes.
"Skra-think leader like your fight."
Heat rushed to my face as I nodded awkwardly, unsure where to look, my thoughts still tangled in what had just happened.
Vaela didn't bother holding back—she laughed openly, the sound bright and unrestrained, clearly enjoying my discomfort far more than she should have.
"Arthur."
I turned at the sound of my name.
Elder Thryssa stood a short distance away, her presence quiet yet impossible to ignore. Her gaze rested on me with the same calm depth it always carried—measured, knowing, as if she were seeing more than what stood in front of her.
"Greetings, Elder," I said, bowing slightly.
Vaela greeted her as well, straightening her posture at once.
"You fought well," Thryssa said, her tone even, without embellishment.
"I… still have much to improve," I replied quickly, the words leaving me before I could think twice.
A faint smile touched her lips. "You have trained for only two years," she said. "Yet you have grown more than you realize. Continue training."
I nodded, taking her words to heart.
She studied me for a moment longer before asking, "How are the people treating you?"
I hesitated, searching for the right answer. "Good," I said slowly. "But… they're not ready to accept me yet."
"They will," she replied without hesitation. "Soon."
With that, she inclined her head once and stepped away, leaving me standing there—her words lingering far longer than her presence.
Vaela suddenly grabbed my wrist, her grip firm and unyielding.
"Skra-come. We eat now."
Before I could even think of protesting, she was already dragging me, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. I stumbled after her, half-laughing, half-resigned. Charlie followed close behind, silent as ever, his presence steady and unobtrusive amid the noise and movement.
The food… it was everywhere.
I tried everything I could get my hands on—meat from beasts I couldn't even name, cuts roasted until the fat crackled, strips smoked so deeply the flavor lingered long after each bite. There were thick stews spiced so heavily they burned my tongue and made my eyes water, yet somehow demanded another spoonful anyway. Every taste was new, overwhelming, and strangely comforting all at once.
Vaela drank freely as she ate, wooden cups of alcohol appearing in her hand again and again. With each cup, her laughter grew louder, brighter, less restrained, as if the night itself were pulling it out of her.
Charlie only ate when I nudged food toward him, accepting it without comment. He chewed quietly, observing the feast from behind calm eyes, content to remain in the background while the rest of the village lost itself in celebration.
At one point, I leaned back, full and pleasantly warm, letting my gaze drift across the feast as it unfolded around me.
People danced in loose, unrestrained circles. Children chased one another, their laughter cutting through the music. Elders sat together, laughing openly, cups raised, their usual gravity softened by drink. And Rokar—very drunk—was flexing dramatically, spinning in place as if showing off to an audience only he could see.
For a fleeting moment, a quiet thought slipped in.
How good would life be… if every day were like this?
---
The feast stretched on into the early hours of the morning.
Slowly, the fires burned lower, their crackling reduced to soft embers. Laughter faded into murmurs, and one by one, people began to drift back toward their homes, the night swallowing their voices as the village finally grew quiet.
I walked Vaela back to her house, steadying her when she stumbled, her arm thrown loosely over my shoulder. She laughed the entire way... unrestrained, carefree, as if the world held nothing heavy at all.
When I finally turned away and started back along my own path, a single thought lingered in my mind.
This was the first time in two years that I had truly felt happy.
And for now—that was enough.