The sun hung high over the bustling streets as a newspaper seller weaved through the crowd, waving fresh copies in the air.
"Breaking news! Tensions rise between the Velmoryn and Neidori Clans! Resources withheld! The kingdom watches closely!" he shouted, grabbing the attention of merchants, passersby, and travelers alike.
People gathered around him, coins clinking as they bought copies. Murmurs filled the air.
"Neidori Clan claims their mines are running dry? Nonsense! They've never had shortages before!" one man scoffed.
"Velmoryn is demanding proof, and rightfully so," an elderly woman chimed in. "Without their woodcraft and stonework, the kingdom will lack proper infrastructure!"
"If this continues, what will become of trade?" another worried voice asked.
Among the chattering crowd, Zehron walked past, unfazed. He had no interest in politics, yet he couldn't ignore how the conflict might affect his own clan.
Velmoryn had always relied on Neidori's mined resources—precious metals, stone, and minerals essential for crafting their famed furniture and structures. But if Neidori truly held back supplies, the Velmoryn Clan's work would come to a standstill.
Velmoryn had always relied on Neidori's mined resources—precious metals, stone, and minerals essential for crafting their famed furniture and structures. But lately, Neidori had drastically reduced their supply, claiming their mines were running dry.
Yet, the Velmoryn Clan had their doubts. How could a clan that thrived on mining suddenly face a shortage? They had seen Neidori merchants still selling fine jewelry and ornaments to the Myrrni Clan, their stores filled with gold and gemstones. If their mines werebin shortage, where was all that wealth coming from?
Some whispered that Neidori was hoarding resources, preparing for something unknown. Others believed they had struck a new, secret deal with another power. Whatever the case, Velmoryn was not willing to accept their excuse so easily.
.
As Zehron took a stroll through the bustling streets, his gaze unexpectedly fell upon Elvienne standing at a jewelry stall. She was smiling softly, holding up a pair of delicate earrings against the sunlight, tilting her head slightly as she admired their shimmer. One after another, she tried different earrings and necklaces, each reflecting her graceful beauty.
Then, something caught her eye—a bracelet unlike any other. It was a simple yet exquisite piece, adorned with small, light green gemstones, known as Elythian Crystals—believed to carry blessings and luck to those who wore them. The bracelet's design was elegant yet infinite, its circular shape unbroken, symbolizing endless fortune.
"How much for this?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.
The seller named the price—350 Vaels, a sum not easily spent. A brief shadow passed over Elvienne's face before she carefully set down the earrings and necklaces she had been considering. With a quiet yet resolute smile, she paid for the bracelet alone, holding it in her palm as if it were something precious.
Hidden behind a nearby stall, Zehron watched her silently. His emerald eyes flickered as he observed the way her fingers traced over the gemstones, a soft, almost longing expression on her face. She had set aside the other jewelry, choosing only this simple yet mystic piece, a clear sign of her deep admiration for it.
For the first time, he found himself watching someone for longer than necessary.
Lost in his observation, Zehron was oblivious to his surroundings. That was until—
Thud!
A man in a hurry crashed into him, jolting him back to reality.
"Watch where you're going, you—!" The man turned, his face twisted in irritation, only to pause for a brief moment as he took in Zehron's composed, unwavering gaze.
Zehron, unbothered by the man's outburst, simply inclined his head and said, "Apologies." His voice was calm, neither defensive nor fearful.
The unexpected response left the man momentarily stunned. Expecting either a confrontation or a cowering excuse, he instead received an apology delivered with absolute indifference. He scoffed, muttered something under his breath, and stormed off.
Meanwhile, Elvienne, having noticed the interaction, instinctively hid the bracelet in the folds of her sleeve. Her heart pounded—not from fear, but from something else entirely. She stepped forward, her face carrying a light blush.
"You again," she said, her tone carrying a hint of amusement.
Zehron turned to her, his expression as unreadable as ever. "Yes."
Sylus would have laughed at the sheer lack of enthusiasm in his response, but he wasn't there.
Elvienne bit her lip, suppressing a chuckle. "You're not very talkative, are you?"
Zehron remained silent for a beat before answering, "No."
She smiled, shaking her head. This man was truly something.
Meanwhile, the man who had bumped into Zehron gave them a side-eye glance before deciding he had better things to do than stand around watching an awkward yet oddly intriguing conversation unfold.
Elvienne: chuckles softly I see. Then, what brings you here?
Zehron: Just passing by.
Elvienne: nods slightly I should have expected that. You don't seem like the type to wander aimlessly.
Zehron: …I don't.
Elvienne: pauses for a moment, then her eyes light up as she remembers something Zehron… are you going to attend the Celestara Festival?
Zehron: glances at her, uninterested The Celestara festival?
Elvienne: Yes. Surely you know about it? The legend of Ithren and Vayenne—two lovers who overcame countless trials and defied fate were finally united under the blessing of the Everveil Tree. It is said that those who stand beneath its branches on the festival night and share a kiss will be blessed with eternal love. her voice is soft, almost wistful
Zehron: …
Elvienne: tilts her head slightly Don't tell me… you've never attended?
Zehron: looks away …I haven't.
Elvienne: smiles, her eyes twinkling Then, perhaps this year will be your first.
Zehron: glances away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks …I don't have a lover.
Elvienne: lets out a soft, amused hum Oh? You needn't have one to attend, you know. The festival is not solely for lovers—it is a grand celebration, filled with music, lights, and the most breathtaking sights. pauses, then addswith a teasing tilt Even someone as… indifferent as you may find it enjoyable.
Zehron: keeps his expression neutral, though the blush lingers
Elvienne: her smile turns slightly playful I do not have a lover either. tilts her head, studyinghim with curiosity So tell me, Zehron… would you care to be one—just for that night? her tone is light, teasing, yet beneath it lies something softer, almost expectant
Zehron: stiffens slightly, his ears tinging red, but he quickly schools his expression back to its usual unreadable state …You jest.
Elvienne: laughs softly, covering her lips with delicate fingers Do I? Or perhaps I am simply making a most reasonable proposal. It is, after all, the spirit of the festival. her gaze lingers on him, her amusement hiding something deeper
Zehron: straightens, his face unreadable once more …I should go.
Without another word, he turns and strides away.
Elvienne: watches him go, a playful glint in her eyes before she cups her hands around her mouth and calls out I shall be waiting for you that night, Zehron!
He halts mid-step, his shoulders stiffening slightly. He slowly turns his head back, his expression still impassive, but the faintest hint of fluster betrays him.
Zehron : I didn't say yes.
Elvienne tilts her head, feigning innocence "Hm? What was that?"
cups her ear with a hand " I don't seem to hear anything, Zehron." giggles " Well then, I shall take my leave!" With that, she twirls gracefully and walks away, her laughter light and airy.
Zehron stands there for a moment longer, exhaling quietly before running a hand through his hair and muttering under his breath …"Troublesome."
But despite his words, a small, almost imperceptible smile lingers at the corner of his lips as he finally resumes walking.
Zehron: throws himself onto the bed with asigh, staring at the ceiling. He raises a hand to his forehead, exhaling as flashes of his conversation with Elvienne replay in his mind—the teasing glint in her eyes, her graceful chuckle, her parting words.
"I shall be waiting for you that night, Zehron!"
His eyes widen slightly as realization hits him.
Zehron: bolts upright, running a hand throughhishair with a deep frown
"Now what? What am I supposed to do? " groans
After a long moment of internal struggle, he drags himself up and heads to the main room where his mother is arranging herbs in small pouches. She looks up with a warm smile, but her expression quickly shifts to suspicion as she notices his unusual hesitation.
Zehron's Mother: raising a brow What is it? Did you get into a fight? Did you break something? gasps dramatically Did you finally get a job?!
Zehron: deadpan …No.
Zehron's Mother: clicks her tongue Tch. Should've known that last one was too much to hope for.
Zehron: clears throat, looking anywhere but at her I… I got invited to the Celestara Festival.
Zehron's Mother: eyes widen in delight The lovers' festival?! gasps, clutching her chest Zehron! Do you have a—
Zehron: quickly No. No. I don't.
Zehron's Mother: squints suspiciously Then who invited you?
Zehron: grumbles …Elvienne.
Zehron's Mother: eyes sparkle invited my son? To a festival about love? gasps dramaticallyagain THIS IS IT. I KNEW THIS DAY WOULD COME.
Zehron: pinches the bridge of his nose Mother, it's not—
Zehron's Mother: grabs his shoulders, shakinghim excitedly Son, listen to me! This is your chance! You must wear your finest tunic! You must smell like the finest woods! You must—
Zehron: groaning I shouldn't have told you.
Zehron's Mother: grinning Oh, you absolutely should have. pauses, then smirks Sooo… are you going?
Zehron: crossing his arms …I don't know.
Zehron's Mother: gasps SON.
Zehron: It's just—why would I go? It's for lovers.
Zehron's Mother: gives him an exaggerated wink Ohhh, I see. So you're saying there's still a chance?
Zehron: facepalms I regret everything.
Zehron's Mother: grinning from ear to ear Oh, don't you worry, my dear boy. Your mother will take care of EVERYTHING.
Zehron: eyes widen in horror …No.
Zehron's Mother: ignoringhim I must find the perfect outfit! I must prepare your hair! And—oh, what if I go talk to her? What if—
Zehron: quickly stands No. Absolutely not. I'm leaving.
Zehron's Mother: cackling as he storms off Love is in the air, my boy! No running from fate!
Zehron: grumbling under his breathas he exits I should've just stayed in bed…
.
.
The night before the Celestara Festival, the sky hung heavy with the glow of countless stars. Inside their modest home, the scent of burning wood filled the air as Zehron helped his father with a wooden frame, steadying the structure as his father hammered in a joint. The rhythmic thuds of the hammer echoed in the quiet night, but there was an unspoken tension betweenthem. Finally, his father set the hammer down and looked at Zehron with a measured gaze.
Zehron's Father: calmly So… you're going to the festival tomorrow.
Zehron: pauses, glancing at him …I suppose.
Zehron's Father: nods, rubbing his calloused hands together It's a good thing. It's nice that you've found someone.
Zehron: quickly It's not like that.
Zehron's Father: small smirk Is that so? Your mother seems convinced otherwise.
Zehron: sighs Of course she is.
Zehron's Father: serious tone But Zehron, you must understand something.
Zehron: looks up
Zehron's Father: When a man walks the path of love, he does not walk it alone. He carries the weight of responsibility—not just for himself, but for the one beside him. It's easy to be swept up in the warmth of affection, but when the festival lights fade, what remains is duty.
Zehron: tenses slightly
Zehron's Father: sighs, leaning on the table You're still young. Still without a job. It worries me. A man must have a purpose, a way to stand on his own before he can offer his hand to another.
Zehron: quietly …I know.
Zehron's Father: Then what will you do? Will you keep drifting? Or will you start carving a path for yourself?
Zehron clenched his fists slightly, feeling the weight of his father's words. He knew his father wasn't scolding him, but rather, reminding him of the burden he would one day have to bear.
Zehron: firmly, with a sharp gaze I will not get married father
His father, who had been resting his chin on his hand, suddenly burst into a deep, hearty laugh. The sound echoed through the room, making Zehron frown in confusion.
Zehron's Father: chuckling If your mother heard you say that, she would sulk for days! She's already dreaming about future grandchildren, you know!
Zehron: brows furrowing …Why is that funny?
Zehron's Father: grinning Because, my boy, no man ever truly plans when love will find him. And the more one resists, the stronger its hold becomes.
.
.
As morning light bathed the festival grounds, Zehron arrived, drawing countless gazes the moment he stepped in. His beauty, ethereal under the soft glow of the Elvian crystals, left many awestruck. Whispers spread among the crowd—many admired him in quiet longing.
They set off together, weaving through the lively streets. They explored the festival, stopping at stalls to admire finely crafted Vaelstone ornaments and delicately embroidered Astren shawls. They shared plates of sweetened Sylri petals and crisp Nerien wafers, their laughter blending with the cheerful hum of the crowd.
Elvienne's joy was radiant—she laughed freely, her excitement evident in the way she eagerly pulled Zehron from one attraction to the next. Zehron, though reserved, found himself smiling more than he had in a long time. For once, he let himself enjoy the moment.
As the day melted into twilight, the festival's true essence began to unfold. The grand Everveil Tree loomed in the distance, its ancient branches shimmering under the rising moon. The moment of the legend's reenactment approached, filling the air with quiet anticipation.