The late afternoon sun filtered through the high windows, casting long shadows across the training ground.

Helletta and Ella squatted on the dry earth, weary after days of relentless practice. Nearby, slender needle-like weapons pierced the ground, remnants of their earlier session.

Gelvin stood a few paces away, his formal vest tucked into his leather trousers, a blend of the Southern region's ruggedness and the refined Fullbright family’s scholarly traditions.

He was looking at the two girls, his own body aching from the intense training.

"So, when does the festival start?" Helletta asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Gelvin glanced down at her, pausing to consider his answer. "I’m not too sure," he said, his tone casual but thoughtful.

"The dates and events for these festivals are usually kept secret to build excitement." He chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"At least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never seen one while I’ve been alive, and I figure most people in the Southern region haven’t either."

Helletta’s eyes lit up at the mention of the festival. "Really? So it’s been that long since the last one?"

"Over three hundred years." Gelvin’s voice grew more somber. "We hold events, games, and parties—plenty of them. But festivals? The stakes are so much higher." He looked off toward the horizon.

"When it happens, the excitement will be... tremendous."

Ella, sitting silently beside Helletta, shook her head, a bemused smile on her face. Helletta’s enthusiasm slightly amuse her. While Ella found such excitement irritating at times, she couldn’t deny that Helletta's innocence was endearing.

Gelvin pushed aside his thoughts and stretched, his muscles aching from days of teaching. "Let’s get up," he said, standing and dusting himself off. "We’re going again."

Both girls groaned in protest. "We’ve been at this for hours," Ella said, shooting a glare at Helletta. "How long does it take to learn the basics? It’s so simple!"

"Don’t yell at her," Gelvin said, his hand coming up to his forehead in a familiar gesture of weariness. "You’ll just make her feel worse."

Helletta, despite her frustration, followed Gelvin's instruction and closed her eyes, trying once again to focus on her training. Gelvin spoke softly, guiding her through the exercise. "Let your mind sink into your body," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Focus on the center of yourself."

Helletta tried, she really did. But as her thoughts wandered, the concept of a "center" within her body became an elusive, confusing mystery. Where exactly is the center of my essence? Is it in my stomach? Why would it be there? Is it because of food? Her mind jumped from one random thought to another, completely missing Gelvin’s explanation about siphoning and flaring soul essence.

Gelvin and Ella were surrounded by the faint shimmer of their colorless auras. Galvin’s was much more prominent and Ella’s essence was barely visible but she could draw it out somewhat.

But Helletta? Nothing. Her mind had drifted too far, lost in distractions, until she finally opened her eyes to see their disapproving looks.

Gelvin sighed but quickly masked his disappointment. "We’ll call it a night," he said, his voice calm but firm. He knew he needed patience—Helletta’s upbringing on the outskirts of civilization left her with a lot to catch up on. He couldn’t expect her to grasp everything right away.

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As they gathered their things, the Heltrin household attendant entered the room. "Lord Gelvin," he said, bowing slightly, "Dinner is prepared."

"Will father be joining us?" Gelvin asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

The attendant nodded. "Yes, and Lord Quentin Fullbright will be joining as well."

Helletta’s eyes widened in excitement. "Quentin Fullbright? Is he famous?"

Ella, ever the composed one, gave a small, knowing smile. "For someone obsessed with the God King and his pantheon, you really don’t know much about the divine families." She turned to Helletta.

"Quentin Fullbright is from one of the five divine families. Quite a big deal."

Helletta gasped, nearly bouncing in place. "I can’t wait to see him!"

Gelvin, however, wasn’t nearly as enthused. His memories of Quentin were far from fond, their time studying under the same Master colored by Quentin’s dour attitude and intimidating intelligence.

He became the head of technology and infrastructure of the Kerrasuk region in almost no time. Gelvin had no interest in rekindling that connection, but he wasn’t about to crush Helletta’s excitement. Better let her find out for herself, he thought grimly.

As they walked to the dining hall, Gelvin tried to calm his nerves. The room was spacious and adorned with relics from the Heltrin family’s long history—marble engravings, aquatic specimens, maps, and devices that softly glowed, casting the room in a warm, inviting light.

A particular carving stood out: a human figure surrounded by fish, the stonework so intricate that the swirling water and fish seemed to flow around the man. It was a beautiful piece, crafted with such detail that one might expect it to move.

The attendants worked in a fluid, graceful rhythm, setting the table with precision. Their movements were quick but smooth, as if every task was part of a well-rehearsed performance. Ella watched them, her gaze lingering a little longer than usual.

Something about the way they moved caught her attention—there was an elegance to it that felt out of place for mere servants. She observed their well-maintained appearance, their poised mannerisms, and the subtle confidence they carried. There was refinement in their actions that didn't fit with what she'd expect from the lower classes.

As Gelvin mentioned they were students learning under his father, Ella didn’t show any outward reaction but it made sense and only confirmed Ella’s deep seated belief that nobility can not be easily worn and everyone carried their class in their image and their behavior.

You dress a poor beggar in a fine suit and clean him up and place him in a demure banquet, he would reach for the food with less tact than everyone else around him because it was simply his nature. This was how Ella believed the world worked. She had noticed this same kind of sophistication in people closer to nobility, and now, seeing it in these attendants, something clicked.

Her eyes flicked briefly to Helletta. When they first met, lost in the crowded city streets, Ella had thought she was simply latching onto someone directionless, an easy mark to follow.

But now, knowing what she did about Helletta’s background, there was a growing realization. Was it chance that drew me to her? Or something else entirely? The thought nagged at the edge of her mind, a quiet doubt that refused to settle.

But she shook it off. There was no need to dwell on such things now.

They took their seats. Helletta, ever the free spirit, grabbed a large piece of meat from the platter and began devouring it before anyone else had even sat down properly. Gelvin groaned inwardly.

"Helletta, dinner hasn’t started yet," he said, exasperated.

Her response came muffled through a mouthful of food. "Why not? It’s already served!"

The family began to arrive, filing in one by one. Gelvin’s younger brother, Gerrit, entered the room, his appearance almost ghostly. His drooping eyes and gaunt frame made him look like a twisted reflection of Gelvin himself. He took a seat across from Gelvin, his gaze drifting lazily over the two girls.

"I never thought you’d go for younger women," Gerrit said in a monotone voice.

Gelvin flushed, quickly stammering out a defense about them being his students, explaining their participation in the festival. He only realized too late that his brother had been messing with him.

Gerrit smiled faintly before speaking again. "I heard what Dad did. Honestly, I’m not sure what the both of you were thinking."

"They weren’t," came a sharp voice from behind them. Gelnar, their older sister, strode in, her face a mask of disapproval. "Father blew a chance to elevate this family, and now you’re joining the festival?" She shook her head as she took a seat. "What’s happened to the Heltrin clan’s reputation as scholars?"

Her eyes narrowed as they fell on Helletta, who was still chewing on her food. "And who is that?"

"That’s Helletta," Gerrit said casually. "And the other one’s Ella. They’re Gelvin’s festival teammates."

Gelnar stared at them, her face frozen in shock. Finally, she closed her eyes and sighed, resignation settling over her features. "I see."