The hall looked on with enthusiasm and curiosity.
The youngest ones, the Cradle Section B children, four and five years old, sat in a wide circle around soft brown thread-desks. Their tiny palms rested against the woven surface, feeling the gentle hum of the threads beneath them. Some giggled softly. Some swung their legs back and forth without rhythm. A few stared at the glowing walls with wide, unblinking eyes.
The room smelled faintly of rosewood and chalkdust and something warmer
The whole sabharangam looked at them with a smile. Some replayed their childhood memories and felt nostalgia.
"Alright, little superstars," she said gently, her voice echoing softly in the glowing room. "Are you ready for your Step of Light?"
"Really?! Is it like a Suzume door?"
"Or Narnia?!"
The Inimainashi Sister laughed softly, the sound like windbells in early morning.
"Oh, it's much better than that," she said. "This door opens only for courage."
A dozen small heads nodded immediately.
And then, before their eyes, one wall began to unfold like a curtain of silk.
Beyond it shimmered a green meadow. Butterflies floated lazily in spirals of light. A glowing golden thread-path stretched forward toward a small table piled with chocolates and soft toys wrapped in glimmering thread-paper. Gasps burst from the circle.
"Settle down, my twinkle-stars. The trial is about to begin."
A few children pouted immediately.
"But I want the chocolates now…"
She knelt slightly so her eyes met theirs.
"You will," she said warmly. "But first, you must walk the Step of Light."
The room fell quiet. Each child could hear their own heartbeat.
The Sister lifted a small box woven of gold-straw thread.
"Write your names on these little slips and drop them inside. The threads will choose your partner."
Excitement returned instantly. Crooked letters and half-formed names. Tiny hands rolling slips carefully before dropping them into the box as though placing treasure inside.
When she shook it, the box chimed like distant wind through glass bells.
"Now," she said softly, "one by one, take a slip. Whoever's name you receive will walk beside you."
The papery crrkk of thread-slips filled the room.
"I got Leno!"
"Ohh, I got Ruki!"
Pairs slowly formed like constellations. Small fingers searched for the right warmth. Some gripped too tightly. Some hesitated before touching.
She clapped gently.
"Good. Every pair is a tiny bridge. If one falls, the other must hold on. That is the only rule."
The meadow door widened, and a breeze scented with wet leaves and sugar drifted into the room.
"Ready?"
"Yesss!"
"Then take your partner's hand."
The golden path brightened.
Leno and Aki stepped forward first, eager and grinning. A soft golden thread loop wound around their ankles, tying their inner legs together. It did not tighten — it simply pulsed gently, reminding them they were connected.
It pulsed gently, not tight, but alive.
The other children leaned forward, wide-eyed.
The Sister crouched beside them.
"We're going to play a three-legged race, little bolts. The rule is simple: walk together, one step, one breath."
A murmur of awe.
Leno grinned. "A race? I'm already the winner!"
Finn from the crowd shouted, "I'm the chocolate king!"
Laughter rippled through the room.
It seemed like the whole Sabharangam smiled along with them.
"Alright, start when the light turns gold," said the Sister.
The floor glowed beneath their feet.
"One step," the Sister said softly. "One breath."
They stepped onto the path of golden light.
The path shimmered beneath their feet like sunrise spreading across water. Each synchronized movement drew a faint hum from the ground, as if the earth itself approved.
Halfway across, the light began to dim.
The meadow blurred. Shadows gathered quietly at the edges.
Aki froze.
"It's getting darker…" he whispered. "Maybe it's a trap."
He pulled back without thinking.
Leno stumbled forward.
"Stop, Aki! Don't!"
The golden knot tugged sharply between them.
They fell. Aki burst into tears.
Leno's fear twisted into frustration, red threads flickering faintly around him. Aki's panic shimmered blue. The colours clashed softly in violet sparks across the dimming path.
From the gallery above, Kodo's fingers tightened around the railing. His white threads flared faintly with worry.
Before Leno's trembling hand could rise —
A calm voice.
The Inimainashi Sister stepped between them, her golden threads unfolding like soft wings.
"Oh, Leno," she said gently, "you want to be a boxer, I see — but not here."
"And Aki, little moon… You are safe."
The shadows faded. The path brightened again.
The golden thread around their ankles loosened and drifted upward like a firefly dissolving into the air.
She knelt beside them.
"Aki, what made you stop?"
"It got dark… I thought maybe it was a trap."
"And you, Leno?"
"He ran away. We were almost there," as he sighed and looked at Aki.
She nodded softly.
"You both felt fear. One tried to run. One tried to push forward. But both forgot something very important."
She touched the fading thread gently.
"You were tied together."
The boys looked at each other quietly.
"The path did not fail you," she continued. "It only showed you how much trust still needs to grow."
"So, we lost?" Aki asked.
"You did not lose," she smiled. "You just need more time."
The Inimainashi sister turned toward the line of waiting children.
"Alright, little bolts, who's ready next?"
Dozens of tiny hands shot up.
She laughed softly. "Oh my, all of you? Then let's see… hmm. How about… Mina and Jo?"
The two children stepped forward.
Mina's hair was tied with a yellow ribbon, and Jo's sleeves were too long for his arms. They looked at each other and giggled nervously as the sister tied the soft thread band around their legs.
"Remember," she said, "the path glows when your steps match, not when you rush."
They nodded solemnly.
When they stepped onto the thread path, the floor rippled with golden light again.
Mina hesitated at first, but Jo whispered, "One… two… together."
They moved like that—slow, clumsy, counting out loud.
The hall watched.
The earlier hush began to lift.
Halfway through, the butterflies fluttered closer, brushing their faces. Mina lost count and started laughing. Jo stumbled, but instead of snapping, he laughed too.
"You made me miss a step!"
"Then fix it!" she giggled back.
They caught the rhythm again—small hands gripping, small voices counting.
The golden path pulsed brighter, and the dim section where Leno and Aki had fallen now shimmered faintly, as if forgiving itself through their steps.
Finally, Mina and Jo reached the end of the path, breathless but still laughing.
The chocolates at the far end jingled open with a soft chime.
The sister clapped.
"That's how it's done—when you fall, you rise together. Step of Light complete!"
The children cheered, not for the winners, but because someone made it through.
Even Aki and Leno smiled quietly, watching the golden glow widen across the room.
Thus, THE CRADLE SECTION B trial continued.
Some children faltered halfway, their light dimming.
Some shone steadily till the end.
And some flickered, uncertain, almost radiant.
When the final pair reached the end, the Inimainashi Sister clapped her hands.
"Simple, isn't it?" she said, smiling through her own tears.
"But it made you feel so many things, didn't it?"
The hall echoed: "Yes!"
She laughed softly.
"Then you've all passed something today — even if you don't know what."
Out of fifty children, thirty-six completed the Step of Light.
Fourteen — including Leno and Aki — wept as the trial ended.
The Sister gathered the crying ones gently into her arms.
Leno's face fell, but then softened. "Can we try again next time?"
"Always," the sister said, her golden threads pulsing faintly.
"The Step of Light never closes for those who wish to walk again."
"It's alright," she whispered. "Let it flow. Next time, you'll be pros."
Tiny voices answered through tears.
"Y-yes, Sister…"
When the Cradle children walked back into the great Sabharangam Hall, their small footsteps echoed softly against the golden floor.
They looked up. The hall felt enormous.
Rows upon rows of older students watched them.
For a moment — silence.
Then applause began.
Craft students clapped first.
Forge students followed.
Some Peak students rose quietly and added their hands to the rhythm.
On the dais, the Headmistress stood and clapped warmly.
The Madhabucho bowed his head once toward the children — then joined the applause.
Even the faculty added their hands to the growing sound.
It did not become a roar.
It became a reassurance.
Leno blinked. Aki wiped his eyes.
Even those who had fallen stood a little straighter.
For that moment, no one asked who completed the path.
Only those who tried.
The Inimainashi Sister leaned down and whispered,
"You were never walking alone."
And beneath the golden ceiling of Sabharangam, the youngest threads of Mounagiri shone not because they won.
But because they dared.