In the slanting light of dawn, Ebonheim approached the feast hall, her feet crunching over the dirt road that wound its way through the center of the village. She passed by a small group of early risers, offering a polite greeting as she hurried towards the meeting.

Inside, she found the others already seated, with Engin Meric at the head of the table. He welcomed her warmly, gesturing towards an empty chair.

"Good morning, Ebonheim. Glad you could join us. Now we can begin."

Ebonheim took her seat, noting the others at the table. Evelyne Blaise from Les Artisanats d'Éclair, Orin Webb from the Ethervein Enclave, Lorne from the Silverguards, Ingrid Lysgaard from Hrafnsteinn, Argoran from the Aslankoyash tribe, Hilda from the Jixishan, and Brevin Stoneshield from the Gorgandale Deep Miners. Roderick Sedley represented the remaining new settlers unaffiliated with any particular faction.

The rest of the village elders were seated around other tables in the room, with Bjorn and Thorsten standing at the edges, keeping watch over the proceedings.

"We've gathered here today to discuss the upcoming festival," Engin explained, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "But before we begin, I want to take some time to address a few issues that have arisen during the last couple of weeks."

There were murmurs around the room, but most listened intently, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"First off, I'd like to thank everyone for coming," he started with a smile. "We are a chorus of varied voices, seeking harmony in a melody yet to be formed."

There were a few nods among the audience, and he continued.

"Over the past few weeks, I've received a number of reports about a lack of coordination between different factions. Some groups appear to believe that their needs should supersede those of others. Let me be clear — this cannot continue."

Ebonheim glanced around the table, noting the expressions on the faces of the representatives. A few looked away sheepishly, while others seemed to be listening with interest.

"Our goal," he continued, "is to work together as a community. As such, we must learn to compromise when necessary." Engin looked over at Ebonheim.

That was her cue. She had spent a good part of the night preparing for this discussion and knew exactly what to say.

She straightened herself, cleared her throat, and addressed the group. "Just as we all rely on one another to survive in this harsh land, we must be willing to accept each other's differences. The path to progress lies in accepting change as an ally, not an enemy. Achieving harmony between our differing ideologies requires mutual trust and respect for each other. It means listening to each other and being willing to compromise when necessary."

Engin smiled, giving Ebonheim an encouraging nod.

Ebonheim continued, "Which brings us to the issue of noise pollution. On the northside of the village, a growing number of workshops have been established near residences, disturbing the peace. I'd like to work with those individuals to find a way to mitigate the problem, whether that involves moving facilities or adopting certain operational procedures, we'll find a way to make both parties content."

Evelyne glanced over at Ebonheim. Her green eyes studied her closely, before blushing and giving a faint nod.

Orin seemed to notice, chuckling. "Doing something like putting in a soundproof barrier between the workshop and nearby houses might be helpful, especially for the families that reside there. The Ethervein Enclave can have it built and installed by the end of the week."

"Within a day," Evelyne interjected, confidently. "Les Artisanats d'Éclair has plans ready for implementation, and we also have the materials stocked and on standby."

"Wonderful, that's a great idea!" Ebonheim exclaimed, smiling widely.

Next, she shifted her gaze toward the representative from Hrafnsteinn. "Ingrid, you and your people have settled by the riverside, and there are tensions over the use of the waterway. Any solutions or suggestions you may have can greatly help the situation."

Ingrid nodded, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "It's a bit shameful to admit, but I've never really been fond of fishing myself. I can talk to the fishermen and maybe suggest a rotating schedule for fishing spots. We can also work on building new docks once enough longhouses are built. Anything we can do to maintain peace, we will gladly try."

The others around the table murmured their assent, with many sharing their own ideas.

Ebonheim noted that the discussion had progressed far more smoothly than she'd expected, and she couldn't help but smile with satisfaction.

"Finally, sir Lorne, Commander of the Silverguard Company," Ebonheim addressed him, "your soldiers have been accused of causing various disruptions around the village, including property damage, animal trespassing, and noise complaints. Is this true?"

Lorne appeared mildly embarrassed by the question, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'd like to formally apologize for the inconveniences my men have caused, and I have ensured they have been properly disciplined for their transgressions. Furthermore, I would be willing to offer aid in fixing these matters, if permitted to do so."

There were several nods of approval from around the table, with several of the elders offering thanks and gratitude to the commander for his willingness to cooperate.

Ebonheim glanced over at Engin, who gave her a thumbs up.

She smiled. "Well then, let's talk about the actual festival preparations now, shall we?"

A wave of excited chatter swept over the room as the meeting shifted to discussions about food, entertainment, decorations, and a myriad of other topics related to the impending holiday.

Engin rose, his voice the anchor that steadied the room's attention. "We stand on the precipice of a new tradition, one forged from the old yet gilded with the new. The Harvest Festival approaches, and with it, a chance to sow unity within our bountiful diversity."

His tone remained neutral as he continued, "To this end, we have organized a committee composed of representatives from each of our communities, tasked with the responsibility of organizing the event. Each member of the committee will be responsible for coordinating efforts within their respective field of expertise. The first topic for discussion: the selection of a festival director. Do any of you wish to volunteer for this role?"

A loud cough broke the silence, startling Ebonheim. All heads turned towards the source, which belonged to none other than Evelyne.

Engin tilted his head curiously. "Yes, Miss Blaise. I assume you are volunteering?"

"I am, in fact."

"Very well," he replied. "Your acceptance is accepted. You'll be the temporary Director of the First Annual Harvest Festival. Congratulations, Evelyne."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"And you can count on the support of the Enclave," Orin added with a wink.

Roderick was about to respond, but he closed his mouth with an audible click when he caught Engin's gaze.

Ebonheim suppressed a giggle, finding the merchant's behavior amusing.

Engin smirked. "Let us proceed. The second topic: food preparation and distribution. Any volunteers for this position?"

Hilda and Ingrid both raised their hands in unison, with the latter having a bemused expression on her face.

"I've overseen festivals in Hrafnsteinn before, so I'd be happy to lend a hand."

"Aye," Hilda concurred. "I could use some more help this year, as the number of mouths to feed has grown."

"Very well, we shall work out the details later."

Lorne raised his hand. "What about security?"

Engin nodded approvingly. "Of course. You and your men can work alongside our guards."

Argoran raised his hand. "The Aslankoyash will also offer some of our warriors to guard the festivities."

Engin nodded and pointed at the list. "Alright, the third point: decor. This is quite simple. Who wishes to coordinate this task?"

Ebonheim raised her hand and a few others followed.

"Good. So, we can probably leave the decorating to you all."

Brevin coughed. "About the matter of ale and spirits for the festivities..."

"Ah yes, of course, how could I forget? That would be the fourth topic: alcohol. And I'm guessing the Deep Miners of Gorgandale wish to volunteer for this, am I correct?"

Brevin chuckled. "If there isn't any opposition, we can brew enough to drown a god or two."

"Very good, the festival shall indeed be filled with enough drinks to quench the thirst of the entire valley," Engin remarked dryly. "Now, the fifth and final topic: music and entertainment. Of course, everyone is encouraged to participate as they see fit, but who specifically wants to organize the performances and activities for the event?—"

Evelyne shot up from her seat abruptly, raising her hand enthusiastically. "I can handle that. Leave it to me. Les Artisanats d'Éclair have plenty of ways to put on a show!"

"...are you sure you're not going to be busy managing the logistics of everything?" Ingrid interjected.

The corner of Evelyne's lip curled upwards. "I assure you, Mademoiselle Ingrid, I can easily do both. If anything, I'd be honored to demonstrate my talents in the arts to such esteemed guests!"

Ingrid stared back blankly. "Uh, okay then, I suppose...?"

Engin sighed. "Excellent. The positions are assigned. With that said, there shall be no further need for council. All who desire to contribute are welcome to assist in whatever capacity they wish. If you have any questions or concerns, please direct them to either myself or Ebonheim, and we'll do our best to accommodate you."

He stepped aside, motioning for the attendees to depart. The various factions filtered out of the hall, until only Ebonheim, Engin, Bjorn, and Roderick remained.

Engin took a deep breath, sinking into a chair. He looked exhausted.

Ebonheim walked over behind him and started massaging his shoulders. "Well, I think we managed to get through that fairly well. Everyone seemed genuinely interested in helping out too."

Roderick nodded vigorously, patting Engin on the back. "I don't think anyone here expects to be doing this alone. No offense to Evelyne, but that woman seems like the type to try and hoard all the fun to herself, but I don't think we'll have to worry about her monopolizing everything."

Engin smiled wearily, rolling his neck. "We're blessed with good folk who care. For that, we shouldn't be afraid to trust them, should we?"

Bjorn crossed his arms and nodded. "That we are. Though, I do admit, I can't wait to see what kind of merriment they'll cook up!"

"Same here," Roderick agreed. "So long as no one starts throwing their clothes off during the dancing, I'd call it a success."

"Well, perhaps you can teach them how to do a proper jig, Roderick, haha," Engin joked.

"Oh, that reminds me! Speaking of dancing, what do you intend to wear?" Roderick inquired, leaning in close to Ebonheim. "I have a gorgeous red silk scarf that would pair well with that dress of yours. I'd be happy to gift it to you if you promise to wear it on the night of the festival."

Ebonheim blinked slowly, confused by his request. "Uhm...why?"

Roderick grinned broadly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Why else? Because I want to see you dressed to impress, of course! You've already made quite the first impression on the newcomers, and I'm sure they'd appreciate seeing you wearing something stylish."

Stylish, huh? She had never really considered it before. The only times her divine garment had changed was after her two ascensions. Everyone had praised how radiant and regal she had become each time, so she figured there was no need to alter her wardrobe.

Sometimes, she wore a wool or fur coat and boots during the cold months, but she didn't really need to wear them since shrouding herself in her divine aura or using her Element-Resisting Aura ability kept her warm enough. Plus, it allowed her to dress lightly when the weather was nice.

"Ebonheim, are you listening?" Roderick called out, waving his hand in front of her face.

"Hm, pardon?" she replied, startled. "Ah, I was thinking."

"Clearly. Thinking about how you're going to dress for the festival, I presume? Your divine garment is beautiful, but for special events like this, a woman's fashion sense is of utmost importance," Roderick declared, clasping his hands together dramatically.

"It is?"

"Of course! I may not know much about such matters myself, but I'm aware of what people like to see. Why, just imagine everyone gathered around you as you parade around garbed in dazzling finery and wearing my silk scarf. Then, when they ask, you can tell them it was a gift from the fabulous merchant Roderick Sedley! Ha ha ha!"

"Ah, I see..." Ebonheim mumbled, unsure of how to respond.

"Think about it, you'll be a symbol of the festival, an icon of celebration," Roderick enticed. "I can practically picture the scene now. Your appearance alone will draw cheers and applause from all who witness your magnificence."

There's no saying no to this guy.

Ebonheim laughed nervously. No wonder he managed to convince five thousand people to migrate to Ebonheim. He has a way with words.

"I suppose," she answered, feeling a little self-conscious. "But if I am to do this, then you'll need to do me a favor."

"And that would be?" Roderick probed, crossing his arms.

"Help me figure out what to wear."

"Hmm, now that's a tall order. I'm confident that the scarf will highlight your natural beauty perfectly, but as for the rest...well, I'm no expert in women's fashion. You might have to ask someone like Evelyne for help."

"But she's already going to be busy handling most of the details for the festival, and I don't want to trouble her," Ebonheim complained, biting her lower lip.

"You could always ask anyways," Engin chimed in as he got up from his chair. "As far as I'm concerned, Evelyne's the most fashionable person in town, and if you explain your situation, I doubt she'd refuse your request."

"Really?" Ebonheim inquired, hopeful.

Engin chuckled. "Ask away, and find out for yourself."

----------------------------------------

The night deepened, the stars wheeling in their silent arcs above. A cool breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the scents of pine and loam. The moon shone brightly overhead, bathing the land below in its soft glow.

Ebonheim walked among the thatched houses and cabins, her presence unnoticed, save for a few sleeping animals and birds who chirped gently in her wake. The sounds of laughter and chatter drifted on the wind, punctuated by the occasional burst of song or shout.

She continued, wandering through the winding dirt trails, past homes and workshops, gardens and orchards, barns and stables, until she reached the riverside south of where the Hrafnsteinn community resided.

She knelt, her fingers trailing through the cool water, the liquid ribbons twining around her hand as they flowed downstream. She watched the moonlight play across their shimmering surfaces, her reflection rippling in their wake.

Ebonheim lingered there, lost in the stillness, before finally rising and continuing along her path.

The upcoming festival. The addition of the Silverguards. The Artisans of Evelyne. The Enclave of Orin. The Hrafnsteinns. The Deep Miners. And all the others. It'll be the first time since they've all arrived, and Ebonheim wanted to savor every moment.

It had been a busy couple of months for not just her, but everyone. People working together. Helping each other. Finding common ground. Building friendships. This was their future.

This was her dream.

Ebonheim grinned as she made her way through the quiet village, imagining the sights, sounds, and smells that would soon fill the air. She let out a satisfied sigh, the worries fading away. After all, she'd done all she could for now; now was the time to relax and enjoy herself.

Soon, the day of the festival would arrive.