She kept walking without once looking back.
One street gave way to another, then another. Intersections unfolded before her like tangled threads. She never stopped to decide which way to go.
It wasn't that she knew where she was going.
Distance was all that mattered.
With every turn Sikakama took, the sounds of the city grew louder.
A lively melody echoed through the streets, carried by the sound of brass instruments and steady drums. Sikakama lifted her gaze. Crimson banners fluttered high between the buildings, each bearing a radiant golden sun encircling a royal crown, with a sword set behind it, its point facing downward, and two majestic winged creatures with outstretched wings and the powerful bodies of lions guarding it from either side. They rippled softly in the morning breeze. Lowering her gaze, she continued on.
Soon, the narrow streets opened into a vast public square.
Dawn Square.
It was overflowing with people.
For the first time since entering the city...
Sikakama slowed her pace.
Her blue eyes wandered from one sight to another.
She had never seen so many smiling faces gathered in one place.
"...Is this a festival?" Sikakama wondered.
"Warm bread! Soft as a cloud!"
"Hot meat pies! Don't watch the celebration on an empty stomach!"
"Warm chestnuts! Drive the morning chill away!"
"Sweet pastries! Freshly baked!"
Voices rose from every corner of the square. Merchants of every kind—plump and thin, young and old—leaned over their colorful stalls, waving their goods high above the crowd as they called out to passing customers. Each voice fought to drown out the others, their endless sales pitches weaving together into a lively chorus that filled the square.
Some passersby stopped with amused smiles, exchanging coins for paper bags filled with warm food, while children eagerly tugged at their parents' sleeves, pointing toward the wooden swords. Others merely glanced at the stalls before continuing on their way, as the merchants' cheerful cries continued to echo across the bustling square.
"Watch where you're standing, girl!"
A coachman pulled sharply on the reins as his horse-drawn carriage slowed to a halt before her.
Startled, Sikakama blinked. Only then did she realize she had wandered into the middle of the road.
She hurried across the cobbled street and slipped into the crowd.
The coachman watched her disappear between the people, then let out a weary sigh.
"Kids these days..." he muttered, shaking his head before flicking the reins.
The carriage rolled on.
As Sikakama made her way through the crowd, her blue eyes drifted from one face to another. Graceful women with delicate features passed by in elegant dresses, lace parasols resting lightly in their hands as they exchanged quiet laughter. Gentlemen in long dark coats greeted familiar faces with warm smiles, tipping the hats held in their gloved hands. Surrounded by broad shoulders brushing past her from every side, Sikakama suddenly felt very small as she pressed her way through the sea of people. Beneath the adults, children slipped between them, proudly carrying wooden swords almost as tall as themselves.
"The play is about to begin!"
"We should find a place before the crowd grows."
The mingling aromas tickled Sikakama's nose. Among them, one warm, buttery scent stood out. Drawn by it, she stopped before a bakery.
Crouched in front of the bakery's large glass window, her knees tucked against her chest, Sikakama gazed at rows of golden Cornish pasties resting on metal trays, their flaky crusts glistening.
The bakery looked warm and inviting. Behind the counter stood a plump woman with kind features and a white apron tied around her waist. Shelves behind her were lined with freshly baked bread, cakes, and pastries. Each time the door opened, another wave of delicious aromas escaped into the street.
Customers came and went while the woman greeted each of them with a gentle smile, carefully placing their purchases into brown paper bags.
Sikakama slipped her hand into one pocket, then the other, hoping to find even a single coin.
Nothing.
She turned both pockets inside out.
Empty.
Her stomach tightened.
The pastries were only a few steps away...
Yet they felt impossibly out of reach.
After a long moment, she finally tore herself away from the bakery and disappeared once more into the moving crowd.
As she wandered through the square, something else gradually caught her attention.
At the center of the square stood a magnificent stone monument.
It depicted a lone warrior clad in ornate armor, both hands resting atop the pommel of a great sword planted firmly into the earth. A royal cloak flowed behind him, while it almost seemed as though his calm eyes were watching over the bustling square.
Drawn by its imposing presence, Sikakama found herself walking toward it.
The old story echoed inside her mind.
A legendary sword.
A knight.
She had read that tale so many times that every page had become worn.
Perhaps...
perhaps stories like that weren't entirely fiction.
Beside the monument stood a large wooden stage, draped with the kingdom's banners.
Families had already gathered before it. Children laughed as they chased one another with wooden swords, pretending to be brave knights while the adults watched with patient smiles.
The workers hurried to complete the final preparations.
One adjusted a hanging banner.
Another carried a wooden crate toward the base of the monument.
Before Sikakama could wonder what was happening—
A trumpet suddenly pierced the air.
The musicians fell silent.
Conversations gradually faded until an expectant hush settled over Dawn Square.
Every eye turned toward the stage.
A man dressed in ceremonial robes slowly climbed the wooden steps. His dark hair was combed neatly back, framing a stern face with sharp features, a straight nose, and a pair of thin, carefully groomed mustaches.
His gaze swept across the sea of faces before a proud smile spread across his lips.
He stepped to the front of the stage and slowly opened his arms, the wide sleeves of his ceremonial robe flowing with the movement.
"People of Pendralice... and loyal citizens from every corner of the Kingdom of Solarian!"
Thunderous applause erupted across the square.
He raised one hand, and silence gradually settled over the eager crowd.
"Today, as is our sacred annual tradition, we gather once more to raise our goblets in celebration of another glorious year in the history of our beloved kingdom. Once again, we remind the world that the banner of Solarian still flies high—unbroken beneath an eternal sun."
"Who among us could ever forget the glorious triumph that brought the Kingdom of the Southeast to its knees? That fateful day when our noble knights shattered its mighty strongholds and shook its arrogant throne, engraving upon history an eternal truth: none who stand against the House of Balder shall endure. The shadows they harbored were purged by the radiance of our sacred light, and their armies crumbled before the unwavering will of Solarian."
A shaft of golden sunlight bathed the speaker's face.
He slowly raised one hand toward the sky.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he sought to grasp the sun itself.
Then, with quiet resolve, he closed his hand into a firm fist.
His piercing hazel eyes caught the sunlight, gleaming with the warm luster of amber as they swept over the gathered crowd.
Only then did he speak once more.
"May Solarian forever remain the beacon that guides this world beneath an eternal sun, an unyielding fortress and an unrivaled power beneath the blessed reign of the House of Balder—the sovereigns who have defended our honor, safeguarded our prosperity, and bestowed lasting peace upon our realm."
"Long live Solarian! Long live the House of Balder!"
His booming voice rolled across the square, carrying both pride and authority to every ear.
The square erupted in thunderous applause as countless voices joined in celebration.
"Long live Solarian!"
But as the cheers gradually faded, the smile vanished from his face.
He lowered his hand.
The warmth drained from his expression.
When he spoke again, his voice was quieter...
Yet somehow, heavier.
"Yet before we honor the overwhelming glory and prosperity we enjoy today..."
"...we must remember the king whose weakness nearly destroyed it."
The crowd lowered their heads, already anticipating the familiar ending.
The speaker slowly turned toward the towering monument.
"King Argon II Aurelian Balder."
"When the armies descended upon our homeland..."
"When the fate of our kingdom hung by a thread..."
"When our soldiers bled upon the battlefield..."
"...their king fled."The silence deepened.
"History remembers those who stand beside their people..."
"...and those who disappear when they are needed most."
He lowered his head for a brief moment.
"And history passed its own judgment."
For a heartbeat...
No one spoke.
Sikakama stared at the monument.
The heroic king she had imagined only moments ago suddenly felt impossibly distant.
Then a child's voice broke the silence.
"My father says he ran away crying!"
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Someone shouted,
"Coward!"
Another voice joined.
"Coward!"
A rotten tomato flew through the air.
Splat.
It burst against the statue's breastplate.
A second followed.
Then a third.
Within moments, rotten eggs and bruised vegetables rained toward the monument.
Crack.
A rotten egg shattered against the stone face.
Yellow yolk slowly trickled down one cold cheek.
Some adults spat toward the monument before hurling whatever they carried.
"Coward!"
"You abandoned us!"
"You never deserved the crown!"
Sikakama let her gaze wander across the crowd.
People laughed.
Children pointed.
Some spat toward the monument before throwing whatever they carried.
Only one person remained untouched by the frenzy.
Only a few steps away from her stood a lone figure wrapped in a weathered brown cloak, his face half-hidden beneath a lowered hood.
He neither laughed...
Nor spoke.
Nor moved.
As though the spectacle unfolding before him had already been witnessed long ago.
For a brief moment, Sikakama found herself staring at the silent stranger.
Then she slowly turned her gaze back toward the monument.
Her blue eyes widened as another tomato burst against the stone sword.
The monument that had filled her with awe only moments before was now covered in rotten food.