The morning sun rose over Cohen City, spilling golden light across its towering walls and cobblestone streets. Bells rang in the distance, chiming across the square, while birds flitted through the air, their chirps harmonizing with the distant hum of the city awakening. Every street was alive with motion: performers spun and danced on raised platforms, musicians struck strings and beat drums, and food stalls filled the air with scents of roasted meats, baked pastries, and exotic spices. The citizens of Cohen had adorned themselves in colorful attire, each garment bright and shimmering, while ceremonial guards patrolled in crisp uniforms that gleamed in the morning light.
Laxyie adjusted his attire one last time, the fine fabric settling perfectly across his shoulders,he slicked his hair back, his boots echoing softly against the cobblestones. He glanced at Tyke, who was already ready, who was displaying his own unique style for the festival.
"Are you ready?" he asked,who was in the other room his tone calm, though the corner of his mouth betrayed a hint of amusement.
"Go ahead without me, i still need to fix my hair," Lyla said smoothly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. Tyke, on the other hand, was bouncing slightly on his heels, eyes bright with anticipation.
Laxyie gave a faint nod and started toward the town square. He caught the attention of several women along the way.
Laxyie's eyes followed his small companion with a muted sigh, noting the boy's innocent charm.
The square itself was a spectacle. Flags fluttered in the light breeze, vibrant with the crest of Cohen, while performers twisted through the air in coordinated acrobatics. Diana, the royal daughter, spotted them from her vantage near the fountain and waved them over. Her smile was bright, warm, and welcoming — a stark contrast to the tension and dangers they had endured on their travels. She took them on a small tour, explaining the festival's history, the traditions of the city, and the origins of the celebrations that stretched back centuries.
Tyke, ever eager, pulled Laxyie from one food stall to another. "You have to try this! And this! And oh, they have roasted boar skewers!" he exclaimed, his small face glowing with excitement. Laxyie went along quietly, tasting sparingly while observing everything around him. The city felt safe; there was no hidden threat, no eyes watching with ill intent. It was a strange sensation after months of living on guard, but he allowed himself to relax.
As the tour wound on, an eating competition was announced at the center of the square. Tyke immediately turned to Laxyie, his tiny fists clenched in determination. "I challenge you!" he yelled. Laxyie raised an eyebrow but didn't refuse, knowing he couldn't say no to the boy's insistence.
The competition began, and soon the square filled with laughter and cheers. For thirty minutes, meat skewers disappeared into mouths with alarming speed. Laxyie and Tyke were the last two standing, each devouring more than seemed humanly possible. In the last thirty seconds, Laxyie faltered, unable to swallow another bite, and Tyke triumphed by one small skewer. Tyke's grin was infectious, and he waved triumphantly at the crowd, crowing about his victory.
Just then, Lyla arrived. She had taken her time to prepare, and her appearance caused a brief pause across the square. She wore a flowing white gown, trimmed with delicate gold embroidery that shimmered in the sunlight. Her green hair fell in perfect contrast against the bright fabric, catching the eyes of every passerby. She laughed softly as she watched Laxyie and Tyke with their mouths full, waving awkwardly at her. Laxyie's heart skipped. Never had he seen Lyla like this — free from armor, from battle, and from the harsh life she had endured. For a moment, she seemed ethereal, a vision plucked from a dream he had long forgotten he could have.
"Looks like you two can barely handle a few skewers," she teased lightly. "If you can't even beat Tyke, how do you plan to beat me?" Her grin was sharp, playful, and teasing in a way that made Laxyie's face tighten in irritation. He didn't answer, only muttering under his breath as Tyke giggled beside him.
As the day progressed, the trio wandered the streets and lakesides of Cohen. Laxyie walked between them, his expression softening as he watched Tyke marvel at the smallest wonders — a street performer's juggling act, a vendor's mechanical toy, or the reflection of sunlight dancing across the water. Lyla, for her part, moved through the festival as though discovering a new world for the first time. Every smile, every laugh, every simple joy was a revelation for her. Laxyie allowed himself a rare smile in response. The burden of their journey, the weight of vengeance and survival, seemed lighter with them beside him.
Yet amid the lightheartedness, a sharp thought struck him, unbidden: Is it okay not to live the life I have lived before? It struck like a blade, but unlike the ones he had faced in battle, this one was subtle, pressing against the core of his being. He brushed the feeling aside for now, focusing on the laughter of his friends and the music that filled the air.
Evening approached, and the festival's pace shifted as preparations for the grand dance ceremony began. Lanterns were lit, casting a soft glow across the city square. Citizens and nobility alike took their positions, the sound of music swelling as dancers and attendees gathered. Among them, a young royal named Hoshua approached. His smug expression, carefully crafted and clearly inherited from a life of privilege, fixed on Lyla.
"Milady," he began, bowing slightly, "may I have the honor of a dance?"
Lyla's reaction was immediate — shock, confusion, and a touch of disgust. She made a soft squeaking noise and wobbled her hands in exaggerated gestures, like a monkey stumbling along the floor. Tyke and Laxyie doubled over in laughter, unable to contain themselves at her display. Hoshua, blushing deeply and clearly embarrassed, hastily withdrew from the square.
The music swelled, and Lyla, smiling mischievously, turned to Laxyie. "Do you want to dance?" she asked.
"I… I don't know how," Laxyie admitted, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.
"Neither do I," Lyla replied, shrugging. "No one cares about others here. Let's just enjoy it."
Before Laxyie could respond, Tyke gave him a gentle shove from behind. "Come on, older brother!" he exclaimed, grinning.
With a resigned sigh, Laxyie allowed himself to be led into the crowd. The three of them — awkward, imperfect, yet utterly alive — moved as best they could to the rhythm of the music. Laxyie's eyes found Lyla's across the floor. In that instant, something shifted. The emptiness that had long filled him, the cold void in his gaze that had been his constant companion, seemed to warm. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe that happiness — genuine, unburdened happiness — was possible.
He watched Lyla's laughter, Tyke's unbridled excitement,his was started to become full of love and felt the bond between them strengthen. The thought returned, sharper this time: Is it okay for me to be happy like this, to live a life with people I care for? The answer, for the first time in many years, seemed clear.
He didn't know what the future held, or what dangers lurked in Cohen City or beyond. But here, in this fleeting moment, among music, laughter, and warmth, Laxyie let himself live. He let himself feel. And for once, that was enough.