Chapter 5 — The Festival

  The soft morning light bathed the Capital Sorriso. Banners fluttered on rooftops. Sweet perfumes filled the air. The streets were packed with visitors from every corner of the Empire — curious travelers, warriors, merchants, nobles, and wanderers.

  It was the day of the Festival. The South’s greatest event. The moment when dreams were born — or crushed beneath the weight of expectation.

  Before the great golden arch, Lukas’s heart pounded fast. There began the path to the Sanctuary of the Four Seasonal Paths — a circular square of white marble, surrounded by living pillars carved with the symbols of Winter, Summer, Spring, and Autumn.

  At its center rested the Lazule — a translucent crystal sphere, radiating a soft blue glow. It was said that when touched by a worthy heart, it would respond. And if touched by a prodigy… by a chosen one… it would shine with the power of the Seasons.

  — Are you just going to stand there? — said a voice at his side.

  Leli. Her light smile and lively eyes. Even among the crowd, her presence shone as if she were the center of it all.

  — Courage, — she said. — It’s just another ceremony, Lukas.

  — For you, maybe. — He swallowed hard. — But for me…

  She turned slightly, the wind playing with her hair. — You’re not “just another,” Lukas. Even if no one sees it yet.

  Before the Lazule stood four figures who made time itself feel small:

  - Kotan Aspen, lord of the winter elves, clad in white furs and a crown of translucent ice.

  - Helena Summer**, matriarch of the summer elves, with long copper hair and golden eyes.

  - Aurelius Rowan, patriarch of autumn, robed in withered leaves.

  - Flora Anapelum, matriarch of spring, surrounded by living petals that danced around her.

  The crowd fell silent as Kotan raised his voice: — Those who wish to be recognized by the Seasons… step forward. Today, the bond with the eternal cycle of Yggdrasil shall be sealed.

  One by one, names were called. Many received the blessing of one Season. A few, of two. A rare handful, of three.

  But none… like her.

  — Adriele Fernandes! — the herald announced.

  Lukas’s youngest sister stepped forward with steady steps. She placed her right hand on the Lazule.

  At that instant, four lights burst forth. White, red, gold, and green. An ethereal wind swept across the square.

  — For the first time in fifty years… — an elder whispered — a blessed child of the Four Seasons…

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  Lukas’s heart clenched. He felt pride. And envy. And, above all… loneliness.

  Adriele turned, met his gaze. She smiled. And raised her fist in encouragement.

  Kotan lifted his staff: — The chosen of the Four Trees may claim direct connection to Yggdrasil.

  Helena stepped forward. — Choose, child. Among the Paths…

  And the voices of the four echoed in unison: — The power of the Sun. — The power of the Divine Frost. — The power of the Shimmering Aura. — The power of the Sacred Moon.

  Adriele closed her eyes. But before she could declare her path, Kotan raised his hand. — Not yet. That decision shall be announced at the end of the festival.

  Adriele stepped back, her face flushed, eyes glowing.

  Then…

  — Next: Lukas Fernandes, tenth son of Patriarch Kyros!

  The whispers turned to rumbling. Some laughed. — The failure is going to try too? — Maybe the Lazule will go dark the moment he touches it.

  Maicon and Lyncon were in the crowd. — Go on, little brother! Show your mediocrity! — Lyncon jeered.

  Shame burned in Lukas’s ears. But he stepped forward. Every step felt like dragging chains.

  He stopped before the sphere. Raised his hand. Touched it.

  …

  Nothing.

  No light. No breath. No reaction. Silence.

  Then came the voices. — HAHAHA! Even the sphere rejects him! — Rejected even by the world’s trees!

  Lukas withdrew his hand. But before he could retreat…

  A presence stopped behind him. A heavy hand rested on his shoulder.

  Kyros.

  — Do not worry, — he said, firm. — Not all destinies reveal themselves in this sphere. Yours will come from another place.

  Adriele ran to him and held his cold hand. — Brother… you will still prove who you are. I know it.

  For a moment, he believed it. Even without any Season… he would not give up.

  The herald raised his staff: — The ceremony is over. Soon, the competitions will begin: the race, the Arena of Cápua, archery, and the monster hunt.

  Lukas raised his eyes to the horizon. In the distance, the Arena of Cápua towered like a colossus.

  “You’ll see…” “I’ll earn respect.” “Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Behind him, Aníbal and Amélia watched. — We’re with you, said Aníbal. — And so are we, added Amélia, with a faint smile.

  Lukas clenched his fists.

  Not even he knew… that while the people cheered the chosen ones, a threat had already crossed the city gates. Silent. Lethal. Like an eclipse waiting for nightfall.

  **End of Chapter 5