Two full days had passed since Evelyn had carried Cassian’s weary body within the cool stone walls of the castle.
For these two days, Cassian had been in the arms of a deep and almost uninterrupted slumber.
His body was trying to rest, to acclimate to its new potential after the overwhelming, yet revitalizing, flow of mana he had felt for the first time in his life.
The silence in the castle was only occasionally broken by the muffled din of festival preparations from outside.
Iris couldn’t get the first moment she had seen Cassian in that state out of her mind.
The young man’s seemingly lifeless body, the pallor of his face, and his profound sleep had made her heart leap into her throat for a moment.
However, Evelyn’s calm and self-assured demeanor had managed to soothe that anxiety, if only by a fraction.
Evelyn had immediately reported the situation to Duchess Seraphina.
Althoughs she panicked at first upon hearing that Cassia had fainted, she felt relieved when he learned that the reason was her forming a mana core
The conversation that took place behind the heavy oak door of the Duchess’s study had begun in a worried tone, then shifted to one of astonishment, and finally, to a controlled joy.
The Call of Fire and the Spirit of the Festival
Down below, life in the castle and the surrounding town flowed with the exuberance of a tradition centuries in the making.
Preparations were in full swing for the Fire Festival, the largest and most important celebration in the Duchy of Inferna.
This festival was not merely a celebration, but also an homage to the duchy’s origins, its power, and its very identity.
According to legend, the founder of the duchy, First Duke Ignis—known as the Lord of Flames—had defeated the ancient and powerful dragon lord, Pyralis, who had terrorized the region, during this very time of year.
Ever since that day, the victory was celebrated annually with colossal bonfires, music, dancing, and feasts.
The town’s main square resembled a massive construction site.
Master carpenters and laborers were carefully stacking logs to form the foundation of the enormous bonfire that would be erected in the very center of the square.
The thickest and largest logs lay at the bottom, creating a giant tower with progressively thinner pieces of wood as it rose.
At the festival’s climax, this tower would be lit by the Duke himself, its flames illuminating the night.
The buildings surrounding the square were adorned with banners, ribbons, and lanterns in the duchy’s colors of flame-red and golden-yellow.
Artisans were making the final preparations for their stalls.
Blacksmiths polished small, dragon-shaped trinkets they had forged especially for the festival; leatherworkers displayed colorful pouches and belts; and bakers sent the delightful aroma of gingerbread and cinnamon cookies wafting into the street.
The air was thick with a sense of anticipation, of jubilation, and the sweet scent of spice mixed with burnt wood.
Children ran through the decorated streets, their laughter filled with dreams of the fun that would begin tomorrow.
In the castle, the cooks had been preparing the festival feast for days in giant cauldrons, marinating meats and chopping vegetables to feed hundreds of guests.
The festival was a significant social event not only for the people of the duchy but also for the nobles of neighboring lands.
It was an opportunity to showcase the power and prosperity of the Duchy of Inferna.
A day before the festival was set to begin, retinues of guests from neighboring baronies, counties, and marquisates began to appear at the main castle gate.
First to arrive was the party of Baron Valerius of Moonglade, known for his silver and blue banners.
The Baron, flanked by four knights in gleaming armor, advanced proudly on his magnificent steed.
A decorated carriage carrying the other members of his family and their servants followed him.
They were met at the gate by the head steward and a group of guards, assigned by Duchess Seraphina.
"Baron Valerius, welcome to the Duchy of Inferna. Our Duke and Duchess are honored to host you," the steward said with a formal bow.
The Baron dismounted, returned the greeting with a short nod, and was escorted to the chambers prepared for him.
Next, a larger and more ostentatious retinue appeared.
Bearing the colors of green and bronze, this party belonged to the Border Count, Lord Tiber, renowned for his rich lands and skilled diplomats.
Count Tiber was an old but still vigorous man.
As he stepped out of his carriage, his elegant daughter, Lady Mira, was by his side.
Sir Kevin, Duchess Seraphina’s own cousin, had been tasked with welcoming them—a clear sign of the county’s importance.
The greeting was warmer and more cordial. After a brief chat filled with jests and reminiscences of old friendships, they too were shown to their wing.
The final and most imposing guest of the day was Marquis Volkov, who ruled the strategic lands on the duchy’s eastern border and was known for his military might.
His black and grey banners, the disciplined stance of his soldiers, and the Marquis’s stern expression revealed him to be a man of great seriousness.
It fell to the Duke himself to receive him.
The two leaders came face to face in the middle of the castle courtyard, amidst all the hustle and bustle of the preparations.
Their handshake was firm and sharp. "Marquis," said the Duke, his voice strong and clear. "Thank you for honoring our festival."
Marquis Volkov, without breaking eye contact for even a second, replied, "Your Grace, your invitation is a command."
As hundreds of noble guests, along with their servants and knights, settled into the castle under their different banners, the corridors of the Duchy of Inferna buzzed with whispers of intrigue, nascent alliances, and the vibrant energy of the approaching festival.
...
And in the midst of all this commotion, lying in his quiet room, Cassian was about to open his eyes to a new future, with the awakening of a power that could change the destiny of both himself and these lands.