Evening descended softly upon the kingdom. The sky burned orange and violet, fading into shades of deep blue as the first stars blinked awake. From every tower of the castle, golden lanterns floated upward, drifting like slow-moving stars across the heavens. The castle grounds were a marvel. Servants carried garlands of enchanted blossoms that shimmered faintly in the dusk. Musicians tested their instruments under the open courtyard, filling the air with the gentle hum of strings and flutes. The banners of victory, purple, gold, and silver, danced proudly in the wind. At the heart of it all, the banquet hall stood ready.
The room glowed with thousands of candles, their flames burning steady, untouched by the breeze. The chandeliers, each hung with countless crystal pendants, reflected the light into a thousand soft rainbows. The walls were newly polished marble, and across their surface, painted murals told stories of ancient victories and kings long past.
In the center, a line of tables stretched endlessly, polished oak, covered in white silk, rimmed with gold lace. Silver platters gleamed in neat rows, goblets of ruby and sapphire glass waiting to be filled with the kingdom's finest wine. The scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and sugared fruits filled the air until one could almost taste celebration itself. Deborah stood at the head of the hall, her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest. She took a slow breath, eyes wide with pride. Around her, maids and stewards paused, marveling at what they had built. "It's... perfect," whispered one maid. "It's beautiful," said another. Deborah's stern face softened into a smile. "The King will be proud of you all." They curtsied and grinned, the exhaustion in their faces fading under the glow of accomplishment.
Moments later, the golden doors swung open, and King John XII entered with his family. His robe shimmered under the candlelight, and his crown caught the flicker of flame like a living sun. Queen Ann walked beside him, her lavender gown flowing like twilight mist. Behind them trailed Prince Stanley and Princess Elizabeth, both bright-eyed with wonder. When they saw the hall, all four stopped in awe. Queen Ann pressed her hands to her chest. "By the stars... Deborah, it's magnificent." The maid bowed deeply. "Your Majesty honors us too kindly. The people worked day and night. The hall belongs to them as much as to the crown."
King John stepped forward, his boots echoing across the polished floor. His gaze moved over every corner, the tapestries, the flowers, the long tables, the light that filled the air like gold dust. For a moment, he said nothing. Then he smiled, a deep, heartfelt smile that carried across the room. "My people have outdone themselves," he said softly. "This... this is a hall worthy of heroes." Elizabeth clapped her hands excitedly. "Father, it's like a dream! Look, the flowers sparkle when you move!" She twirled under the lights, laughing as the petals glowed in response to her motion. The sight drew warm laughter from her parents.
Prince Stanley, meanwhile, stood still, taking in every detail. He turned to Gregory, who had followed them in silence. "What do you think, Master Gregory?" The old advisor smiled faintly. "It's the finest work I've seen in my years of service. A feast like this will echo through history." "Then we've done well," said King John. "Let every servant rest and eat well tonight. They have earned their share of joy." At his words, cheers and applause rippled through the hall. Deborah bowed again, her eyes shimmering with emotion.
While the royal family admired the hall, Chef Mariah gave her final orders. "Keep those pies warm, don't let the crust harden! And I want the soup stirred till it sings!" she barked, though her tone was softer now, more tired than harsh. Hundreds of cooks moved like clockwork, carrying trays, pouring sauces, and adjusting spices. The enchanted ovens glowed softly, never burning, never cooling too quickly. A faint melody of cooking magic filled the air, a hum of well-practiced spells that kept the food perfect. As she passed each station, Moses stopped to taste a sauce or sniff a tray. "Mm. Perfect balance. Remind me to reward whoever mixed that glaze." A young cook smiled nervously. "Th-that was me, ma'am." "Good. You have a gift. Don't waste it." Her compliment drew a quiet grin from him, and for a moment, the kitchen felt like a family rather than a factory of duty. At the far end, large crystal orbs recorded the process, magical archives of the royal feast. Future generations would watch and remember the day peace returned to Eldervale.
As dusk deepened, the royal gardens came alive. Hundreds of lanterns hung from the trees, glowing softly in every color imaginable. The fountains sparkled as if filled with liquid stars. Musicians gathered near the marble steps, tuning harps and violins that shimmered with embedded runes. Queen Ann and her daughter strolled through the path of lights, hand in hand. "Do you remember the gardens last spring?" the Queen asked softly. "When the Blood Monster first appeared?" Elizabeth nodded. "The flowers had all wilted." Ann smiled. "Look at them now." They bloomed in full life, roses, lilies, moonpetals. Each seemed to glow with inner joy. The Queen paused beside a silver fountain, the reflection of her face calm and content. "Peace makes everything bloom again," she said. Elizabeth looked up at her mother, eyes shining. "Will the soldiers be happy too?" "They will, my dear. More than anyone."
High above, on the balcony overlooking the city, King John stood beside Gregory, watching the lights twinkle below. The sounds of laughter and music drifted up to them. "It feels like a dream, Gregory," the King said softly. "Months ago, I feared we would never see joy in these streets again." "The people needed this, sire," Gregory replied. "And so did you." King John chuckled lightly. "Perhaps you're right." He leaned against the marble rail, eyes sweeping across his kingdom. "Every light, every laugh, proof that darkness can be defeated." He fell silent for a moment, then added quietly, "You warned me before about echoes of old magic. Do you still fear them?" Gregory hesitated. "I fear nothing, sire. But I respect what lingers. Victory often leaves shadows where it passes."
The King smiled faintly. "Then let them linger. For tonight, I'll see only light." The advisor bowed his head. "As you wish, my King." They stood there in silence for a while, listening to the city breathe beneath them, a kingdom reborn, free and whole.
By nightfall, every torch, candle, and lantern burned bright. The hall no longer looked like a room but a sea of golden flame. The chefs wheeled in carts of food: glazed meats steaming with spice, crystal bowls of fruits, towers of cakes sculpted like castles. The scent filled the corridors until even the guards smiled. Deborah guided the last of the maids out, nodding in satisfaction. "All ready for dawn," she whispered. As the servants filed away, the music outside faded into a soft lullaby. The hall fell still, glowing like a jewel under the stars.
Then, the royal family entered once more, taking one last look before retiring for the night. Queen Ann leaned against her husband's arm. "It's beautiful, John." He nodded slowly. "Tomorrow, our heroes will walk through those doors, and the kingdom will rejoice. No fear, no sorrow, only peace." Elizabeth smiled sleepily. "It'll be the happiest day ever." Stanley grinned. "It already is." The King's eyes softened as he looked at his children. "You both remind me why I fight for this kingdom." They walked together toward the great doors, hand in hand, the golden glow following them like a blessing.
When the doors closed, the hall stood silent again, filled with the scent of wine and the warmth of candles. The flowers still shimmered softly, swaying as if they too were breathing. Outside, the moon rose high above Eldervale, bathing the castle in silver light. The stars seemed closer tonight, almost watchful, as though the heavens themselves were waiting to see what dawn would bring and somewhere in the far distance, carried by the night wind, came the faintest sound of horns. The soldiers were returning.