The sky over Akasa was still dark as the Festival of Sorority began to stir, its promise weaving through the city's quiet streets. Long before dawn's first light kissed the spires and rooftops, the alicorns were already awake, bustling, preparing. Stalls creaked open, banners unfurled, and the scent of spiced bread and incense filled the air. The greatest day of the Festival was upon them, and it seemed as if the very stones of Akasa hummed with anticipation.
Travelers were arriving in a steady stream, their cloaks heavy with the dust of far-flung lands. Ardenians and Luxians, drawn home by the Festival's pull, mingled in the streets, their faces aglow with joy and the warmth of reunion. The city had become a gathering place, a beacon, drawing all who called Equestera their home.
"Morning to you, High-Priest," called a voice, rough but kind, from one of the Ardenian stall owners. He grinned, setting down a basket of pastries. "What brings you this early, revered one? The sun's barely woken."
Aren, resplendent in his robes of crimson, turned to greet him. His voice was calm but held kindness, as it always did. "A blessed morning to you, and may Ardenu's light warm your path," he replied, inclining his head. "I am guiding these Protectors through the Festival. For a few of them, it will be their first time experiencing it." He gestured to the small group beside him—Leyla, silent and watchful; Masha, fierce and proud; Yua, quick with a smile; and Kolibry, ever curious, his eyes darting to every stall they passed.
Each Protector offered a nod or a greeting to the stall owner, who returned their gestures with a bow, a flicker of awe dancing in his eyes. He turned back to Aren, curiosity piqued. "Will Aqasha not be joining you today, High-Priest?"
Aren shook his head, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small, knowing smile. "No, she is practicing for her role. One last rehearsal before tonight's performance. You know how she is—ever diligent, ever focused. It's no small thing, playing Ardenu in the grandest play of the Festival."
The stall owner nodded, realization dawning. The performance was the talk of Akasa. Aqasha, with her grace and fire, would embody the goddess herself—a role that carried weight and expectation, not easily borne. "Ah, yes, of course. Tonight will be something to see, no doubt. Well, I wish you all the best for today, High-Priest. May you and your companions find joy in the Festival."
Aren smiled again, a hint of warmth softening his sharp features. "And to you. May Ardenu's blessings follow you this day."
The stall owner bowed once more before turning back to his work, and Aren led the Protectors deeper into the thrumming heart of the Festival, where laughter and the promise of celebration awaited them.
The group offered their thanks to the stall owner, their voices warm with gratitude, before continuing their journey through the Capital of Flames. The streets of the capital, lined with blossoming cherry trees, seemed to shimmer beneath the morning light. A gentle breeze sent a cascade of petals swirling through the air, and the beauty of it all wasn't lost on Yua. Something caught her eye amidst the trees, a flash of red amongst the white and pink blossoms.
"Masha! Come quickly!" Yua called out, her voice alive with excitement as she trotted over to one of the trees. Masha's ears twitched at the sound of Yua's voice, and her paws carried her swiftly across the cobbled street. As she approached, she saw what had captured Yua's attention. Red ribbons, tied with delicate care, swayed among the flower-laden branches, like blood-red whispers among the soft blooms. Overhead, little Momo darted through the tree, his wings stirring petals and ribbons alike, sending them into a graceful dance.
"These are prayer ribbons!" Yua explained, her voice full of wonder. "In Luxia, they're tied to branches near temples when you offer a prayer. You have to sew a white flower to the ribbon as well—it's part of the custom."
Masha lifted a paw, brushing it against one of the ribbons, her curiosity piqued. "Can we hang one too?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with intrigue. The rest of the group, having caught up to them by now, gathered around, listening intently to Yua's words.
Yua nodded, though there was a seriousness in her gaze. "You can, but it must be done with sincerity and respect. These ribbons are more than just decoration—they carry your hopes, your prayers."
She spotted a stall nearby, tucked beneath the canopy of the cherry trees, its wares draped in the same vibrant red ribbons. With a nod to the others, Yua led them toward it.
"Good morning, High-Priest," called out the stall owner, a gentle Luxian lady, her voice sweet and kind. She bowed slightly in respect. "Are you here to hang a prayer ribbon for Lilas and Aqasha?"
Aren returned her greeting with a nod, his voice calm as ever. "A blessed morning to you. Yes, though it is not I who will guide the making of these ribbons. That honor falls to our friend here," he said with a soft smile, gesturing toward Yua.
Yua blinked, clearly surprised by the High-Priest's words, and her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. Still, she inclined her head and spoke with quiet pride. "I want them to learn of our ways," she said, her tone filled with reverence. "Could you help us with the ribbons?"
The stall owner beamed, delighted. "Of course, dear one. It would be my honor." She gestured to the array of ribbons laid before them. "You may choose from these. It's a privilege to share my culture with Ardenu's High-Priest and the Third Paladin," she added with a respectful bow toward Aren and Leyla.
With a hum of approval, the group gathered close, their hooves and paws hovering over the crimson ribbons, each knowing that their prayers, once tied to the tree, would be carried on the winds of Ardenia, under the watchful gaze of the Pantheon.
Yua's eyes sparkled with excitement as she thanked the stall owner, her enthusiasm almost infectious. One by one, the group began picking out ribbons—delicate threads of crimson that they would sew their flowers onto before hanging them among the cherry blossoms. Leyla, though she'd been startled when the stall owner recognized her as the Third Paladin, felt a quiet relief that the moment had passed without fuss. The attention had stayed where it belonged—on the young ones, their eagerness tangible.
Under the watchful eyes of Yua and Aren, Kolibry, Masha, and even Leyla set about crafting their prayer ribbons. The process was quiet, almost meditative, each stitch carrying with it the weight of their thoughts, their hopes. Yua's needle moved deftly, with her precise telekinesis, guiding the others when needed, while Aren observed in silence, his presence steady and grounding.
As they made their way back to the cherry trees, Yua's voice broke the calm, soft yet purposeful. "As you hang your ribbon, think carefully of your wish," she instructed, her tone holding a note of reverence. "But don't speak it too loudly. These prayers are between you and the Pantheon."
Masha, ever bold, was the first to step forward. Her paws moved gracefully, tying the ribbon to the branch with care. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, her voice slightly above a whisper as she spoke her wish to the tree, to the wind. "I pray I can become a strong Paladin like Mom, so I can protect those I love." Her words, though quiet, were filled with fierce determination.
Kolibry followed, his movements more hesitant, a nervous energy about him. Yet, as he tied his ribbon, he found his calm. His lips moved, his prayer carried off by the soft rustle of leaves, leaving his wish known only to the kings and queens. Leyla, though more practiced, wasted no time and hung her ribbon with the quiet efficiency of a warrior, her thoughts hidden behind her sharp gaze.
Finally, Yua and Aren stood before the tree, levitating their ribbons next to them. Yua's hoof lingered a moment longer on the fabric as she tied it gently among the others. Aren moved with solemn grace, his prayer known only to him, yet the reverence in his movements spoke volumes.
As the last of the ribbons swayed gently in the breeze, there was a sense of finality in the air—a moment of quiet reflection on their own struggles and wishes. Each ribbon, a thread between their hearts and the gods, now hung among the cherry blossoms, waiting for the wind to carry their prayers to the Sacred Temples.
The group pressed onward, their steps slow as they took in the vibrant life of Akasa. The streets pulsed with the rhythm of celebration, and everywhere they turned, the Festival of Sorority unfolded around them in a riot of sound and color. They passed by makeshift stages where theater groups were deep into performances of Ardenian and Luxian legends. Some of the plays, lighthearted and whimsical, were meant for the younger alicorns—puppets twirling under the sun, their wooden faces telling ancient stories. Others were more somber, where alicorns sat in quiet circles, sipping tea as storytellers wove their tales, their voices low and enchanting.
The streets were alive with music, a harmonious blend of cultures. Ardenians and Luxians mingled with other species, the air thick with laughter and chatter. Conversations flitted back and forth, exchanging knowledge of customs and traditions, a testament to the unity the Festival fostered between the once-distant kingdoms.
Leyla walked at the head of the group, while Masha trailed just behind, half amused, after noticing several glances directed towards her mother, while the Third Paladin kept pace in silence, eyes ever-watchful.
A young Ardenian, no more than twenty cycles, stepped into their path, his wings stretched against his body. "Um… excuse me, ma'am?" he asked, voice trembling like a leaf in wind. "Wouldn't you be… Leyla the Lightning, by chance?"
Leyla paused, turned with practiced grace. Masha's smirk curled and faded. The Paladin sighed inwardly. "That would be me," Leyla said, gentle but distant. The young one's face broke into a reverent grin, all awe and nerves. He followed them a few steps more, tongue tied by the thousand questions he couldn't seem to voice. He never found the words. But then, few ever did.
Afterwards, as they meandered through the bustling streets, the group was stopped more than once by eager Protectors, their eyes wide with awe as they recognized Leyla. As a response, she gave a smile, almost forced, hiding some discomfort from being the center of attention. Some approached nervously, unsure of how to address her; others bolder, but no less reverent, sought advice on how to grow stronger in their roles. Leyla, though far from comfortable with the attention, managed to keep her composure. Her responses were measured, polite, each word thoughtful. She returned greetings, offered guidance, and though her voice remained calm, there was a weight behind her words that each Protector took to heart.
Masha, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She tried to hide it, but her eyes betrayed her. Seeing her mother, the Third Paladin, handle these moments with such grace stirred something deep within her. To Equestera, Leyla was a figure of strength and wisdom, but to Masha, she was even more than that—she was a beacon.
As they walked, the Festival seemed to shift around them, taking them deeper into its embrace. They turned onto a street unlike any other they had passed. Here, the sun's light was dimmed, replaced by the soft glow of lanterns and a breathtaking display of light paintings. The Ardenian lanterns, shaped with intricate designs, floated gently above, their warm light casting long shadows.
But it was the Luxian light paintings that truly captivated—beautiful, ethereal depictions of a night field blooming with white flowers. The lanterns hung among the painted stars, creating a seamless blend of Ardenian craftsmanship and Luxian artistry. It was as if they had stepped into another world, where night had fallen over a field of blossoms, and the stars above were within wing's reach.
And amidst the flowers, every so often, flashes of color appeared—small, fluffy shapes darting through the fields, some spirits of Luxia, as if caught in play. The entire scene seemed alive, the spirits adding a sense of wonder, as if the very fabric of Luxia's mystical energy was interwoven with the lantern light.
The group stood for a moment, silent, allowing the beauty of the scene to wash over them. It was more than just a display—it was a perfect symbol of the unity between Ardenia and Luxia, a harmony born of two worlds intertwined.
The mesmerizing scene enveloped the group completely, drawing them into the world of Luxia as though they had truly stepped into another realm. Yua, her heart swelling with familiarity, felt as if she had returned home. The sight of the lantern-lit field, the soft glow of the light paintings, transported her back to the serene nights of her homeland. It was as though she could feel Luxia's very breath in the air.
Masha, her wide eyes reflecting the soft light, turned to Yua, wonder etched into every line of her face. "Is this really how Luxia looks at night?" she asked, her voice filled with awe.
Yua smiled, a quiet pride in her eyes, and nodded. "It is," she confirmed.
Kolibry, standing nearby, added his own thoughts, his voice soft as he gazed at the painting. "It's a very peaceful place. Every time I go, I feel…calmed. It's so different from Ventia, where I grew up." He shared this with Masha, his gaze distant, as though recalling nights spent under the same star-filled sky depicted before them.
Leyla, observing the scene with a faint smile, let her memories drift back to her own missions in Luxia. She had seen landscapes like this before, though at the time, they had offered little solace, her mind too weighed down by the distance from her family. Now, standing here, she saw them anew—through her daughter's eyes.
Masha stepped closer to her mother, her voice a soft murmur. "I hope we can return to this Festival next cycle, with Feyn and Dad." Leyla placed a gentle wing on her daughter's shoulder, nodding slightly as a warm smile spread across her face.
"Perhaps we can visit a place like this on a mission to Luxia soon," she added softly, glancing down at Masha with a smile that held both promise and warmth.
Both Yua and Masha responded at once, their voices rising. "Really?!" The surprise of their synchronized excitement drew laughter from the pair, and soon the whole group was swept up in the shared joy of the moment, their laughter echoing through the lantern-lit street.
"Yes, really," Leyla confirmed, her smile widening as the laughter slowly faded, leaving a sense of shared anticipation in its wake. "But first, we have this Festival to enjoy. Shall we keep going?" Her gaze turned to the path ahead, her silhouette framed by the gentle glow of the lanterns.
Without further hesitation, she stepped forward, walking through the painted light and beneath the floating lanterns, her footsteps soft against the cobblestone. The rest of the group followed, still marveling at the beauty around them. They moved in silence, letting the last of the light paintings fade behind them until they emerged from the enchanting scene and found themselves in a wide square, the heart of the capital's festivities awaiting them.
The square was alive with the bustling energy of vendors, their stalls brimming with every imaginable type of food. The scents of sizzling meats, fresh bread, and sweet confections mingled in the air, a heady mix that tugged at the senses. From Ardenia to Luxia, the offerings were endless, each stall displaying a colorful array of delicacies. The aroma of freshly baked treats danced on the wind, and, as if summoned by the very air itself, the stomachs of the three young alicorns—Masha, Kolibry, and Yua—growled in unison. The sound, perfectly timed, sent them into fits of laughter once more, their joy infectious.
Aren chuckled at the scene, his calm gaze softening. "It seems a snack is in order," he said, his voice warm with amusement. "Let's see what catches your eye." He gestured toward the food stalls that lined the square, each one teeming with tempting delights.
As they wandered, the vendors greeted Aren and Leyla with quiet respect, offering polite nods and the occasional free sample. Leyla, who had at first tried to refuse, quickly realized there was no stopping the flood of kindness. She accepted the small morsels with grace, sharing them with her daughter and her companions, who eagerly devoured each offering. Masha, Yua, and Kolibry buzzed with excitement, their laughter punctuated by bites of the various foods they were handed.
The group was presented with a veritable feast of flavors. Yua, ever the guide in all things Luxian, took it upon herself to explain some of the more curious dishes when the vendors did not. Her eyes lit up as they passed a stall featuring a familiar treat. "This is one of my favorites from home!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "They're flowers, coated in a hard, sweet glaze. It's so good! But," she added with a mischievous grin, "you have to be careful not to eat too many—you'll end up with a sugar rush!"
Using her magic, Yua floated a stick with the glazed flowers over to Masha, who accepted it with wide eyes, eager to try the treat. Masha took a tentative bite, and her face lit up instantly as the sweetness hit her tongue.
Leyla, watching the exchange, couldn't help but notice the recurring theme in Luxian cuisine. Flowers seemed to be at the heart of so many dishes—whether in their pure form or transformed into fruits after they had bloomed. The flowers were often paired with sugary substances, harvested from spirits themselves or combined with the essence of the common spirits that roamed Luxia. It was a fascinating blend of the natural and the magical, a tradition steeped in both beauty and practicality.
Aren and Yua continued to guide the young ones through the various offerings, pointing out favorites and explaining the history behind certain dishes. The square felt like a bridge between their worlds, a mingling of cultures, and with every bite, the group was reminded of the deep connection between Ardenia and Luxia, woven together not just by history, but by the very food they shared.
Ardenian Festival food was a stark contrast to the sugary delicacies of Luxia. Here, spice reigned supreme. Many dishes carried a fiery kick, some even infused with the essence of fire-type spirits. The locals loved it, but the vendors were quick to caution visitors, especially those from outside Ardenia, to steer clear unless they had a taste for intense heat. One such warning came just in time for Kolibry, who had unknowingly reached for a particularly potent snack. Aren's hoof shot out, gently stopping him before the young Ventian could take a bite.
"I wouldn't recommend that one, Kolibry," Aren said with a chuckle, his tone warm but firm. "It's made using a special kind of flame spirit. If you're not accustomed to the heat, it'll be far from pleasant."
Kolibry, relaxing his posture, dipped his head in thanks. "Th-thanks…Do you have something else from here you think I might enjoy?" There was a touch of nervousness in his voice, heightened by the fact that it was Aren—High-Priest of Ardenia—he was asking. Still, the presence of another male alicorn, especially one as calm and composed as Aren, offered some comfort.
Aren pondered for a brief moment, scanning the food stalls. His eyes settled on a different snack, far less dangerous yet distinctly Ardenian. He plucked a stick of spiral-cut root vegetable, lightly roasted over a spirit flame and seasoned with a blend of spices. The heat lingered, but it wasn't overwhelming. "Try this one. A bit of spice, but nothing too harsh."
Kolibry accepted the offering, eyeing it with curiosity before taking a bite. A flicker of surprise crossed his face as the spices hit his tongue, but soon his expression shifted, and his eyes squinted with delight as the flavors settled in. It was certainly spicier than what he was used to back home in Ventia, but it was the kind of warmth that invited more. He continued to eat, a smile spreading across his snout.
Aren chuckled at the sight, pleased with Kolibry's enjoyment. "Looks like you've found something you like," he remarked, his amusement plain.
But before anyone could relax too much, a gasp of shock came from behind them. Masha, unaware of Aren's earlier warning, had popped a piece of one of the fire-spirit-infused snacks into her mouth. At first, she seemed pleased, savoring the initial taste. But then, the burn hit. Her face flushed deep red, and sweat beaded along her brow. Her eyes widened in alarm as the heat overwhelmed her, leaving her gasping.
The stall owner, clearly used to this reaction, quickly handed her a cup of milk, urging her to drink. Masha gulped it down desperately, trying to extinguish the flames on her tongue. Leyla couldn't help herself; she burst into laughter at her daughter's plight, the sound bright and merry. Yua, on the other hand, patted Masha's back, trying to soothe her between coughs as she drank too quickly.
"It's all right, Masha," Yua said with a chuckle of her own, though her touch remained gentle. "Next time, we'll stick to the sweets."
Still panting, Masha shot a look at her mother, a mix of exasperation and embarrassment on her red face. But soon enough, even she managed to crack a sheepish smile, the ordeal behind her as they continued their journey through the Festival.
As the group meandered through the square, nibbling on the various delicacies—Masha now carefully steering clear of any fiery Ardenian treats—they spotted a cluster of young Luxians at one of the stalls. Their pure white coats shimmered in the Festival light, almost glowing as they bustled about, replenishing food and tending to the vendor's needs with quiet grace.
Masha tilted her head, curiosity evident in the way her eyes followed their every movement. Before she could ask, Yua began to explain with a soft smile. "Those are the Mini-Priests of Light," she said, her voice carrying a note of pride. "All young Luxians with coats as pure and white as light itself, or at least near to it." Her smile widened, a trace of fondness coloring her words. "My sister Mei was one of them when she was younger."
"Ohhh," Masha's ears perked up, her tail flicking with interest. "We don't have anything like that in Fulmenia! What do they do?"
Yua's gaze drifted back to the young Luxians as she continued, her tone warm with admiration. "In between their normal studies, they help the community, especially those Luxians who have fallen on hard times—whether through illness or other struggles."
Kolibry, who had been quietly observing, noticed that the vendor's coat lacked the shimmer of the younger Luxians. Its dullness was subtle, but it spoke of weariness, perhaps health issues, or age. The realization struck him—a quiet respect blooming in his heart for Luxia's system of care. That even those who had lost their luster, who struggled in ways unseen, could rely on the strength and compassion of their community.
Aren, walking beside them, nodded thoughtfully. He, too, was familiar with the Mini-Priests of Light, especially during the Festival of Sorority. Every year, they worked alongside the Flame-Priests of Ardenia, sharing knowledge and culture, and learning how best to serve those in need. His admiration for them ran deep, for these were not just privileged foals, revered for their resemblance to Luxoah, the Queen of Light. They were taught early to give, to serve, to shoulder the burdens of others. It wasn't lost on Aren how profound that was—how it not only humbled these young Priests but also brought hope to the downtrodden. To the less fortunate, it must feel as though Luxoah herself, through these foals, was watching over them, never letting them fall too far from the warmth of her light.
"It's admirable," Aren remarked softly, his gaze lingering on the Mini-Priests. "For those who are often exalted for their resemblance to Luxoah to learn humility and the weight of the world at such a young age…and for those in need to feel that even the most blessed among them have not forgotten their struggles."
Masha nodded thoughtfully, clearly impressed. "It's beautiful…the way they care for one another."
Yua beamed at that, her pride in her homeland evident. "Yes, it's one of the many things I love about Luxia. No one is left behind, not if the Mini-Priests have anything to say about it."
The group continued to watch the young Luxians for a few moments longer, the sight of them a reminder of the Festival's deeper purpose: a celebration not just of unity, but of shared responsibility, compassion, and the unyielding bond between their nations.
As the group conversed, a new figure emerged from behind the Luxian stall. She moved with a composed grace, a Luxian alicorn nearing her fifties. Her coat was a soft shade of gray, almost like mist at dawn, while her mane—black as night—was carefully pinned up with a delicate white flower ornament. Her attire spoke of her high status, a stark contrast between the tight-fitting black undergarment she wore and the flowing white cloak embroidered with intricate floral patterns. The cloak, draped over her shoulders, framed her with an air of authority and elegance.
Yua tensed imperceptibly at the sight of her, though only those who knew her well might have noticed. Leyla, however, caught the shift and was quick to offer a respectful greeting, her tone formal yet smooth. "Good day to you, Paladin Xuefeng."
The older alicorn's sharp gaze flicked toward the group, acknowledging them with a nod. "Good day, Paladin Leyla. And you as well, young Masha. High-Priest Aren," she added, inclining her head slightly toward Aren, her tone polished and polite.
Her eyes narrowly grazed Yua, offering nothing more than a brief glance from the corner of her eye. The nod that followed felt obligatory, curt. Yua bowed her head in response, her voice softer than usual, fragile even. "Hello, Mother."
Masha, who had been listening intently, blinked in surprise at the revelation. Her eyes darted between Yua and Xuefeng, piecing together the significance of the moment. She then turned her head toward her mother—surely she already knew the relationship between the two Luxians, being the Third Paladin—but, with a simple nod, Leyla made her understand that she shouldn't be the one to reveal it, but Yua herself.
The realization that her close friend was the daughter of the esteemed Fifth Paladin of Equestera brought an initial flash of excitement, but that excitement quickly dimmed as she observed the cool distance between them. Xuefeng's acknowledgment of her daughter was, at best, minimal, a formality rather than the warmth one might expect.
Aren, ever the mediator, returned the greeting with his usual grace, his voice steady and kind. "Blessed morning to you, Paladin Xuefeng. I trust you're enjoying this cycle's Festival?"
Xuefeng's lips curved into a smile, though it seemed to brighten only at the mention of another. "I am quite looking forward to seeing my daughter take the stage as Luxoah, alongside your Aqasha as Ardenu. Mei has worked tirelessly for this role. She will embody Luxoah perfectly." Her voice swelled with pride, the tone unmistakable when speaking of Mei. "Might I ask where they are now? I assume Aqasha and Mei are preparing for the play?" Her inquiry was directed to Aren, her focus shifting away from Yua entirely.
"They are," Aren replied, maintaining his calm composure. "Their final rehearsal should have just concluded, and they are likely getting dressed now. Ayzat is overseeing things to ensure they are ready and on time."
Xuefeng's expression softened at the mention of her daughter's upcoming performance, though the distance between her and Yua remained unspoken, heavy in the air. For Masha, the moment felt unsettling, her earlier excitement now dulled by the strange coldness she had witnessed.
Kolibry stood by quietly, offering no more than a polite nod to Xuefeng. His loyalty to Yua was clear as he stayed close, watching her wrestle with her thoughts. He could sense the uncertainty in her—whether to speak up or stay silent. The struggle of seeking a mother's approval weighed heavy on her.
Gathering her courage, Yua decided to try, a faint smile crossing her face as she glanced at her mother. "Mother, I recently achieved the Jasper rank in the Protectors' Guild since we last saw each other," she said, her voice tinged with a soft hope, a quiet pride beneath it.
But the words hung in the air, unanswered. Xuefeng turned her gaze only slightly, cold as winter's breath. "And yet, you still don't have a Soul-weapon, do you?" she replied, her tone cutting through Yua's fragile hope. "You're not progressing quickly enough. You should look to your sister Mei if you want to grow."
The words struck Yua like a physical blow. Her smile faltered, and her head dipped. Momo, the small spirit companion wrapped around her neck, let out a soft whine, sensing the ache in Yua's heart. The comforting warmth of Momo's presence was the only thing keeping Yua grounded as the sting of her mother's words set in.
Aren noticed it too, his eyes narrowing briefly at Xuefeng's indifference, though he chose not to escalate the situation. There was a time and place for confrontation, but not here, not now. Xuefeng, ever composed, swiftly redirected her attention back to him, leaving her daughter in the shadow of her disdain.
"It seems I must take my leave," Xuefeng announced, turning to the Mini-Priests who were wrapping up their duties. "There are still others who need our assistance before the play begins. I can't miss Mei's portrayal of Luxoah." Her voice carried a trace of pride, but none of it was reserved for Yua. "I'll see you all at the performance tonight. Enjoy the rest of the Festival," she added, addressing Leyla and Aren, before turning on her heel and departing with the young Luxians in tow.
Yua stood silently as her mother disappeared into the crowd. Masha opened her mouth, wanting to say something—perhaps comfort, perhaps shock at the way Yua had been treated. But Yua was quick to shift the conversation, her smile forced but present. "When my sister Mei was a Mini-Priest, I got to join her a few times. It was a really great experience," she said, her tone lighter than it had any right to be.
It was clear to everyone that Yua didn't want to linger on the painful exchange. She had sensed Masha's urge to comment on both Xuefeng's status and her treatment of her daughter, but was determined not to let her family issues sour the day. This was supposed to be a day of joy, of Festival celebrations. Yua wasn't about to let her mother's coldness ruin it.
Kolibry, who had long understood the silent struggle Yua faced, quickly helped steer the conversation toward something lighter. The rest of the group followed his lead, respecting Yua's unspoken wish to leave the matter behind. But as they moved on, Leyla—who cherished her own family above all else—made a quiet vow to herself. She would watch over Yua, protect her in ways her own family failed to, from this day forward.