The next morning, Nyx woke with a start, a rare surge of excitement coursing through her. The orphanage buzzed with activity, the hum of cheerful voices and the rustle of preparations filling the air. Outside her small window, the town seemed alive with vibrant energy, the smell of fresh bread and flowers wafting through the cool morning breeze.

Nyx quickly dressed and rushed down the creaking wooden stairs, nearly colliding with Sister Clara, who was carrying a bundle of brightly colored ribbons.

“Careful, Nyx,” Sister Clara said with a warm laugh. “You’re in quite the hurry this morning.”

Nyx grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Sister Clara. I just can’t wait for the festival! Till told me about the fire show and the dancing… It sounds amazing.”

Sister Clara’s smile widened, her kind eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m glad you’re excited. The Half Celestial Festival is one of the most cherished traditions in our village.”

“What’s it about?” Nyx asked, tilting her head.

Sister Clara set the ribbons down on the table, her expression turning thoughtful. “The festival is a prayer for a bountiful harvest, but it’s also a time to give thanks for the blessings we’ve received. It’s said that long ago, the villagers were guided by a celestial being during a harsh winter. The being promised them prosperity in exchange for their gratitude and unity.”

Nyx leaned forward, her amethyst eyes shining with curiosity. “A celestial being? Like a star?”

“Some say it was a star, others say it was a goddess,” Sister Clara said with a soft chuckle. “The story has changed over the years, but the sentiment remains the same. It’s a time for hope and celebration.”

Nyx nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I like that.”

“Oh, and the traditional clothes!” Sister Clara continued, her voice tinged with excitement. “Each family wears garments passed down through generations. They’re usually adorned with celestial patterns—stars, moons, and sometimes even comets. It’s a way of honoring the being that saved the village.”

Nyx’s expression faltered slightly. “That sounds beautiful… but I don’t have anything like that.”

Sister Clara’s face softened as she noticed Nyx’s sudden change in mood. She knelt to meet Nyx’s gaze, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Well, we can’t have you feeling left out, can we?”

Nyx blinked, her frown easing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Sister Clara said with a conspiratorial smile, “I’ll find you a dress. Something special, just for the festival.”

Nyx’s face lit up, her earlier disappointment melting away. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” Sister Clara replied, standing and brushing her hands on her apron. “Everyone deserves to feel like they belong, especially on a day like today.”

Nyx threw her arms around Sister Clara in a rare display of affection, her voice muffled as she said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” Sister Clara said, patting Nyx’s head gently. “Now, why don’t you help the others with the decorations while I take care of everything?”

“Okay!” Nyx said, her excitement renewed. She darted off toward the main hall, where the other children were busy stringing garlands and arranging lanterns.

After some time helping out in the orphanage, Sister Clara called Nyx aside, a gentle smile lighting up her face. “Come with me,” she said, taking Nyx’s hand.

Curious, Nyx followed her outside. They walked down the cobblestone path to a small shop nestled against the side of the orphanage. The building was quaint, its wooden sign swinging softly in the breeze, painted with intricate floral patterns.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of lavender and fabric dye. Bolts of colorful cloth lined the shelves, while a display of glittering accessories sparkled in the afternoon light. The shopkeeper, a kindly older woman with sharp eyes and a warm smile, greeted them cheerfully.

“Sister Clara! What can I do for you today?”

Sister Clara returned the smile. “We’re looking for a traditional dress for the Half Celestial Festival. Something special for Nyx here.” She gestured toward Nyx, who peeked shyly from behind her.

The shopkeeper’s face softened. “Ah, the festival! I’ve got just the thing. Give me a moment.” She disappeared into the back room.

Nyx wandered slowly through the shop, brushing her fingers over the fabrics. She couldn’t help but feel nervous. What if nothing looked right? What if she didn’t find anything that felt hers?

The shopkeeper returned with three dresses draped over her arm, each one vibrant with flowers and traditional embroidery. She held them out with pride, displaying the intricate details of the patterns.

Nyx tried them on one by one. The first was a delicate pink adorned with white blossoms; the second, a rich green with golden vines; the third, a bold red covered in intricate floral designs.

But none of them resonated with her.

Each time, she stepped out of the dressing area with a slight frown, shaking her head. “It’s nice,” she’d say, her voice unsure. But Sister Clara could feel the frustration growing from Nyx.

“Don’t worry,” Sister Clara said softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find the perfect one.”

The shopkeeper smiled reassuringly and dove back into her collection. After a moment of searching, her eyes lit up. “Ah, here it is,” she said, holding up a shimmering silver dress. “I almost forgot about this one.”

Nyx’s breath caught as the shopkeeper carefully unfolded the garment.

The dress was a masterpiece of celestial artistry. The silver fabric glowed softly like moonlight, and delicate patterns of crescent moons and radiant stars shimmered across its surface. Swirling galaxy designs stretched across the flowing skirt, their iridescent threads creating the illusion of infinite depth, as if entire worlds were hidden within the fabric.

The hem was lined with intricate constellations that twinkled faintly, and the cascading trails of silver thread along the sleeves and bodice mimicked the arcs of shooting stars. The entire dress radiated quiet elegance, as though it had been woven from the fabric of the cosmos.

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Nyx hesitated for a moment before taking the dress and stepping into the fitting room. As she slipped it on, the soft fabric seemed to embrace her like a second skin. She stepped out slowly, unsure of what to expect.

Sister Clara gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Nyx, you look…” She paused, her eyes glistening. “Like a magical princess.”

The shopkeeper nodded in agreement, her smile warm. “It’s perfect for her.”

Nyx turned to the mirror, her amethyst eyes wide as she took in her reflection. The dress sparkled faintly with every movement, the celestial patterns shifting as if alive. For the first time, she felt like she belonged to something more—a world beyond the one she knew.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, a faint blush warming her cheeks.

“Peacock would’ve been so proud,” Uriel said softly, voice tinged with a bittersweet emotion.

Nyx’s smile faltered for a moment before she turned back to Sister Clara. “This one,” she said firmly. “I want this one.”

Sister Clara nodded and walked to the counter to pay, but Nyx stopped her. “Wait,” she said, her voice resolute. “I can pay for it myself. I have enough from the guild.”

Sister Clara shook her head, her expression gentle but firm. “It’s a gift, Nyx. From me to you.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Sister Clara interrupted, placing a hand over Nyx’s. “This is my way of saying thank you—for everything you’ve done and for the joy you bring to all of us.”

Warmth filled Nyx’s heart, and she felt a lump rise in her throat. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sister Clara smiled, pulling her into a gentle hug. “You’re welcome, my dear.”

With the dress carefully wrapped and carried back to the orphanage, Nyx spent the rest of the day helping with the preparations. The scent of baking bread and roasting meat wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and chatter as the orphanage children excitedly practiced their festival dances.

Nyx glanced at the wrapped dress one last time, a quiet smile gracing her lips. For the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of normalcy—of belonging.

Nyx’s heart raced with excitement as the festival night finally arrived. The scent of fresh flowers and sweet incense wafted through the air as she stepped out of the warm bath, her silver hair damp and glistening in the dim light of her room. Sister Clara bustled around, preparing the final touches to help Nyx get ready.

“Hold still, dear,” Sister Clara said, gently guiding Nyx into her celestial dress.

The fabric shimmered as it caught the light, the delicate patterns of crescent moons and swirling galaxies coming alive with her every movement. As Sister Clara adjusted the hem and smoothed the sleeves, Nyx glanced at herself in the small mirror by her bedside.

She looked amazing. No, she felt amazing.

“Just one last thing,” Sister Clara said, draping Nyx’s silver cape around her shoulders. The soft fabric cascaded like flowing starlight, complementing the shimmering details of her dress perfectly.

Nyx turned, her amethyst eyes wide with wonder. “Do I really look okay?” she asked, her voice soft.

Sister Clara stepped back and clasped her hands together, her eyes glistening with pride. “You look more than okay, Nyx. You’re radiant.”

As she stepped into the common room, the orphanage children gasped in unison, their wide eyes fixed on her.

“Nyx, you look like a princess!” one of the younger girls exclaimed, tugging at her own plain dress as if to compare.

“She’s so shiny!” another whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Nyx’s cheeks flushed with warmth as she smiled at them. “Thank you,” she said softly, kneeling briefly to pat the head of a wide-eyed boy.

As she walked outside to wait for Till, a group of passing priests caught sight of her. They paused, their steps faltering as their gazes fell on her.

One of them, a gray-haired man with a kind face, inclined his head respectfully. “You look beautiful, child. Like the moon itself has graced our festival.”

Nyx’s smile grew. “Thank you, Father,” she replied, her voice steady yet kind.

She didn’t have to wait long. In the distance, Till appeared, making his way toward her with purposeful strides. Nyx’s breath caught slightly when she saw him.

His traditional outfit was simple yet elegant, a perfect blend of light blue and white that exuded a calm, serene energy. The outer robe draped neatly over his shoulders, its white embroidery catching the lantern light. The soft folds of his white inner garments peeked out at the neckline and cuffs, adding a crisp contrast. His loose-fitting pants swayed with his movements, completing the look of effortless grace.

When their eyes met, Till froze for a moment, his mouth opening slightly as if words had escaped him.

Nyx walked toward him, her silver cape fluttering behind her and her dress shimmering with each step. A soft smile curved her lips. “You look great, Till.”

He blinked, his face turning a faint shade of pink. “Me? Nyx, you’re…” He paused, his voice quiet and reverent. “You’re beautiful.”

Her smile widened. “Thank you.” She glanced down briefly, trying to mask her own blush. “And you look really good too. That color suits you.”

Till laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. I, uh, tried.”

Before he could fluster himself further, he stepped forward and gently took her hand in his. His touch was warm, steady, and Nyx felt a flicker of comfort in the gesture.

“Come on,” he said, his voice soft but eager. “Let’s get to the festival.”

Nyx nodded, placing her hand in his. His grip was warm and steady as he led her toward the heart of the village.

As they walked, the streets came alive with music, laughter, and the rich scents of grilled meats and sweet pastries wafting through the air. Lanterns of all shapes and colors lined the cobblestone paths, casting a warm, flickering glow over the bustling crowd.

Nyx’s eyes sparkled as she took it all in. Stalls were set up on either side of the main square, offering everything from intricate trinkets to steaming bowls of soup. Villagers dressed in their finest traditional attire wandered from stall to stall, their laughter blending with the lively melodies played by a group of musicians near the center.

“Wow,” Nyx breathed, her gaze sweeping over the colorful scene. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”

“It always is,” Till said, smiling as he watched her. “Come on, there’s so much to see!”

He tugged her gently toward a food stall, where a vendor handed them skewers of caramelized fruit and sticky rice cakes wrapped in leaves. The sweet and tangy flavors melted in Nyx’s mouth as she took her first bite, her eyes widening in delight.

“This is amazing!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled slightly by the food.

Till laughed. “I told you, the festival food is the best part.”

As they continued through the square, Nyx felt a light breeze brush against her cape, the fabric catching the lantern light like a silvery wave. The villagers they passed greeted her warmly, some commenting on her dress or her striking silver hair.

“You’re really popular tonight,” Till teased, nudging her playfully.

Nyx rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “Maybe it’s the dress,” she said, twirling slightly to make the fabric shimmer.

“It’s not just the dress,” Till said softly, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than usual.

Before Nyx could respond, the sound of drums filled the air, signaling the start of the evening’s main event. The crowd began to gather near the center of the square, where a large open space had been cleared for the performers.

Nyx and Till found a spot near the edge of the gathering, their eyes fixed on the dancers who began to move in unison to the rhythmic beat. Their flowing garments and intricate movements painted a story of gratitude to the gods for a bountiful harvest, each step as deliberate as the constellations moving across the night sky.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Till whispered.

Nyx nodded, her gaze unwavering. “It’s like they’re part of the stars themselves.”

As the performance continued, Nyx felt a faint chill run down her spine—a whisper of unease that seemed to ripple through her like the distant echo of a warning. She glanced around, her amethyst eyes scanning the cheerful crowd.

“Something wrong?” Till asked, noticing her sudden stillness.

Nyx shook her head quickly. “No… I’m fine,” she said, though her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her cape.

Uriel’s voice stirred in her mind, calm but watchful. “You sense it, don’t you?”

Nyx’s lips tightened. “What is it?”

“Uncertainty,” Uriel replied. “A disturbance. It is faint, but it is there—like a storm brewing far on the horizon.”

Nyx exhaled softly, willing herself to relax. She couldn’t let her unease ruin the night—not for Till, not for herself.

The performance ended in a flourish of music and light, the crowd erupting into cheers. Nyx joined in, her smile returning as she glanced at Till.

“What’s next?” she asked, eager to move past the strange feeling lingering in her chest.

Till grinned. “How about the fire show? It’s the best part of the festival.”

“Lead the way,” Nyx said, her excitement returning as she followed him through the bustling square.

And yet, as the stars shimmered above and the festival carried on, Nyx couldn’t shake the feeling that something unseen was watching.