The battle had left them ragged, but the world beyond the chaos remained blissfully ignorant. As Mikhailis, Serelith, and Cerys made their way through the winding alleys, the festival's golden lights flickered ahead, spilling warmth and color onto the cobbled streets. Laughter and music pulsed through the air, and the scent of spiced bread and caramelized nuts wrapped around them like a comforting embrace. Here, in the festival square, people danced, sang, and bartered for glittering trinkets—utterly unaware that just a few streets away, shadow and steel had clashed in desperate silence.
Mikhailis felt a mix of relief and weariness settle in his chest. No screams, no panic—just joy and revelry. The city spun on, oblivious to the danger that had lurked just out of sight. He glanced at Serelith, whose violet hair caught the lantern light, shimmering like a living flame. Her face still bore the fierce edge of their battle, but her smile returned—small, tired, but real.
