A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 115: Festival of Shadows
[Evening]
•Meadowlark Village•
[Ovelia’s POV]
As our wagon rolled into the vibrant, pulsing heart of Meadowlark Village, a grin spread across my face, so wide and unforced it made my cheeks ache. I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried. After the quiet solitude of Thunoa and the tense journey, this explosion of life was a balm to my soul.
"Wow," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper against the cacophony of joy. "This is beyond anything I ever imagined."
The air itself was a living thing, thick with layered sounds and scents. From a side alley, the crystalline, playful trill of a wooden flute wove through the general chatter, while from the main square, the deep, resonant strum of a massive harp provided a steady, beating heart to the festivities. It was all layered over the happy, roaring din of hundreds of people—laughing children, bartering merchants, and groups singing along to familiar drinking songs. I breathed in deeply, the complex aroma of candied roasting nuts, sizzling spiced meat, and the sweet, crushed scent of summer grass under countless feet filling my lungs. Through the shifting crowd, I caught glimpses of dancers, their clothes a brilliant whirl of embroidered reds, blues, and golds, their feet stomping and spinning in time to a rhythm that made my own pulse quicken in response. It was a kind of magic, pure and simple, and a desperate urge to dive headfirst into it all welled up inside me.
"It’s been ten years since Ace and I came here during the festival," Ray said, his voice raised to be heard over the noise. His orange eyes scanned the scene with a nostalgic warmth, a faint smile on his lips as he watched a group of children chasing each other with sparklers.
"During this festival, the crowds are much larger than I remember," Ace observed, his analytical gaze taking in the improved stalls and organized lanes. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes never stopped moving. "This whole village has transformed. It looks like the night market of a proper town now. They’ve improved so much over the past decade."
"How about you, Ann? And you, Gale?" I asked, turning to them.
"I only came once for this festival," Ann replied, her gaze growing distant for a moment, her fingers tracing the familiar hilts of her daggers. "But my purpose was for a mission." The flatness in her tone suggested the memory was not one of celebration.
"The only festival in this world I’ve witnessed is the Lantern Festival," Gale stated flatly, his human-form arms crossed as he looked unimpressed by the revelry. His gray eyes scanned the crowd with a cynicism that seemed to dampen the very air around him. "Nothing more. Just a lot of noise and misplaced hope."
"Oh, the Lantern Festival!" I said, my excitement bubbling over again at that thought, undeterred by his grumpiness. "I’m so excited to see that, too."
"I hope your wishes come true during that festival." I heard Ace’s voice, a soft whisper close to my ear that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. I hadn’t even heard him move closer.
"Wishes? Will all my wishes for the Lantern Festival come true?" I asked, turning to look at him, captivated by the idea.
"It might come true," he said, his silver eyes holding mine for a moment. "It depends on your wish." He added, his voice dropping slightly.
"I’m sure the Star Goddess will grant your wishes, Lady Ovelia," Ann confidently said, her faith unwavering.
"Just don’t be greedy," Gale interjected with a snort. "That goddess tends to favor the humble. Be too demanding, and she might just ignore you entirely."
"It sounds like your wish didn’t come true," Ray teased, glancing back at Gale with a knowing grin.
"Ha! I’m grumpy, but I’m not greedy," he retorted, crossing his arms tighter. He fell silent for a beat, then muttered, almost to himself, "Besides... some things you stop wishing for because they seem impossible." His gaze flickered indirectly in my direction before he scowled at the wooden floor. "Annoyingly, sometimes they happen anyway."
I wonder what he wished for, I thought, my heart feeling strangely warm.
"So you’re self-aware enough to know you’re grumpy," Ace whispered dryly, his attention seemingly on the colorful paper banderitas fluttering overhead.
"Lady Firera," I asked her mentally, "does the Goddess of Stars really exist?"
"It has been fifty years since I last saw her," her voice echoed, thoughtful and ancient. "A goddess exists through belief. So long as the people keep faith, so long as they believe we watch over them, we will not fade away. Faith is our only anchor."
Fifty years? The number was a lifetime.
The weight of my own secret pressed down on me, a cold stone settling in my stomach amidst the festival’s warmth. I was the sole vessel for Firera’s essence. The only one who knew she still lived. The realization was stark and terrifying. I must stay alive so Lady Firera will not disappear. To do that, I need to be strong.
My thoughts were interrupted as Ray pulled gently on the reins, bringing the horses to a complete stop where the crowd became too dense for the wagon. "Let’s continue on foot from here," he announced, his voice taking on a note of command.
We all climbed down, my boots hitting the hard-packed earth with a solid thud. The energy of the festival was even more intense at ground level, a physical force. The music thrummed up through the soles of my feet, the laughter felt like a percussion in my chest, and the press of the crowd was a constant, warm pressure on all sides.
"Let’s enjoy this festival!" I said, my voice full of a happiness I hadn’t felt in so long.
"Yes, my lady," Ann said, falling into step just behind my right shoulder. Her usual formal tone was touched with a genuine, soft hint of anticipation.
I saw Ace give a single, firm nod, and Ray simply smiled, his easy-going demeanor returning as he secured the wagon.
As we started to walk, a new, incredible smell hit me—savory, smoky, and utterly mouthwatering. My stomach growled in response. I looked around, my eyes searching for the source, and found a stall where a vendor was brushing a rich, dark sauce onto something sizzling and curling on a grill. I drifted toward it, pulled by the irresistible aroma like a moth to a flame.
[Ace’s POV]
My eyes continuously scanned the periphery, a habit ingrained from a childhood of taunts and a adulthood of political knives in the dark. The festive atmosphere, for all its joy, was a perfect cloak for darker intentions. The laughter was too loud, the music too dense, creating a thousand blind spots.
Then I saw him—a man, his face completely obscured by a plain, featureless wooden mask, hauling a heavy, clinking sack through the crowd. The way the contents shifted and rattled was all wrong for festival wares. I suddenly remembered what the green-haired witch had said about the masked man. That thing he’s carrying must be a black restraints.
"I gotta check something." Ray’s voice was a low, serious rumble right beside me. His body was already turning, his own hunter’s gaze having locked onto another one—a different masked figure, this one slipping with practiced ease into a narrow, dark alley between two food stalls. Our eyes met for a split second, a silent understanding passing between us. The threat was here, moving among the celebrants.
I turned back to where Ovelia had been, my hand already lifting to grasp hers, to keep her safe at my side. But the space where she stood was empty. My heart slammed against my ribs, a cold dread washing over me. "Ovelia!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the festive noise like a blade. But she was gone, swallowed by the relentless, shifting throng.
"Gale, please keep Lady Ovelia safe." Ann’s voice was cold steel. I saw her hands were already at her hips, the polished hilts of her twin daggers gripped tightly, her body coiled for action.
"No need to say that," Gale snapped, his gray eyes sharp as he immediately began scanning the crowd, his earlier grumpiness replaced by a focused, predatory intensity. His connection to her would be our best tracker.
"Thank you," Ann said. And then she was simply gone, melting into the crowd without a sound, her movements a silent, fast ripple in the sea of people.
"Go," Gale barked at me, not taking his eyes off his search. "I’ll find her. I’ll keep her safe. That’s my job now."
I gave a sharp, jerky nod, trust for the fairy’s bond warring with the primal fear screaming in my veins. Without another word, I turned and plunged into the crowd, shoving people aside without apology, my own path set toward the dark alley where the masked man had disappeared.
