Since the main light source had shifted to the bonfire, seasoned attendees had already claimed spots near the flames. I, however, disliked crowds and chose a place farther from the throng—and consequently, from the fire too.
"Want to move closer?" I asked Aefina.
"Hmm… Are you scared of the dark, Luo Sa?" Aefina dodged the question, turning it back on me instead.
"If you’re fine here, I don’t mind either." I’d have shifted if she preferred being nearer the crowd.
Soon, food began arriving. Everything at the Prayer Festival was free—just help yourself.
Aefina seemed more interested in the laughing, chatting people than the food. That made me quietly proud; at least she always enjoyed my cooking.
But something felt off. This was supposed to be a *prayer* festival, yet no one had organized anything. Not even a speech from some leader?
"Miss Chris!" Just as I pondered this, a man stood up amid cheers, shouting another’s name. The scene drew every eye—even Aefina’s.
A girl in her twenties rose slowly and approached him. The bonfire painted their faces crimson. The girl stared at her feet, fidgeting with her hem. The crowd’s roaring drowned out their words.
*Wait… judging by their expressions and the crowd’s reaction… Could this be…? Damn, even in another world they do public confessions? My novels never mentioned this!*
"Uh… Miss Chris, I—I’ve liked you for so long!" *Yep, a confession. Damn real-life winners.*
"…Marry me! Once the Great Storm ends, let’s wed!" *Heh. Naive. Classic death flag.*
"I…" The girl looked flustered—so flustered she spun in a full circle on the spot.
"Marry him!" "Marry him!" "Marry him!" The crowd chanted wildly, more excited than if it were their own wedding.
Finally, under everyone’s watchful eyes, the girl named Chris shyly threw herself into the unnamed man’s arms. Cheers and whistles erupted from the onlookers. The man then solemnly pulled out a necklace—not a ring—and fastened it around her neck.
*Why do I suddenly feel like holding a torch? No… as a transmigrator, I should be summoning fireballs.*
Just as I fantasized about burning the couple alive, Aefina’s voice cut through my thoughts.
"Is this how humans court here?" Her voice sounded strange—not from her mouth, but echoing directly in my mind.
"Aefina?" I turned, puzzled. She was still leaning against my shoulder.
"I sensed eavesdroppers, so I used this to speak with you," she explained.
It was essentially Mind Speech—a telepathic ability only working on those she physically touched. Honestly… pretty useless.
I spent the next while explaining public confessions to her. I’d seen two back in high school. I also got used to this mental chat—it felt oddly fun at first.
"So… how do dragons court?" I asked casually after finishing. *Really, just casual.*
"Hmm… I’ve never seen others of my kind, but I have some bloodline memories about it." *Bloodline memories—expected for a Great Dragon.*
"First, display your hoard—mostly gold, plus other treasures. Then fight to test each other’s strength. The more powerful the dragon, the more appealing they are. If both are satisfied, it’s settled." *Brutally straightforward.*
A chill ran down my spine. *Gold aside… fighting Aefina? One flick of her tail would end me.*
Thankfully, her "useless" Mind Speech only allowed conversation—not direct thought-reading. If she knew my fears, she’d laugh her head off.
Just as I sighed in relief over this limitation, her next words made me question its existence.
"But those are just norms. If both sides are willing, none of that’s necessary…" Her voice trailed off, hesitant, almost suggestive.
*Did she read my mind?! Is she hinting at…? No way. Absolutely not.*
"……"
"……"
We fell silent. Watching the lively scene, my thoughts drifted back to Earth.
The confession had fired up the crowd. *Yeah… I still don’t fit into places like this.*
"Whoa! It’s starting!" The crowd’s energy shifted, snapping me back.
"That way." Aefina pointed left, having spotted the source first.
A glowing azure mass swirled in the pitch-black sky, shifting shapes as it drifted from the sea toward us…
Then, a group in identical robes and staves emerged from nowhere. Under everyone’s gaze, they marched to a makeshift wooden platform near the shore and formed a perfect circle around it—spacing precise as a gymnastics team…
Once they stood ready, an old man followed from the same direction. His robe and staff outshone the others’ by leagues—even Aefina glanced twice. *…Though she was probably eyeing the crystal ball on his staff, glittering in the firelight.* By lore, he must be the city lord of Aegros.
*This setup feels familiar. Next up: leadership speech.*
During his address, I learned the Prayer Festival’s origins.
Wind Season symbolized life—like Earth’s spring. Most crops were sown then. The festival first prayed for bountiful harvests. Since the Second Great Storm hit mid-Wind Season, after sowing ended, the timing was perfect.
It also thanked the Great Storm—or rather, the Wind Lord Mezalans. The Storm was his creation, saturated with pure wind essence. As the first land touched by it, Aegros brimmed with this essence. It seeped into local plants, making wind-infused flora a city specialty.
Aegros’s wind mages were continent-famous. Bathed in wind essence since birth, their affinity and control surpassed mages elsewhere.
Thus, the Great Storm was vital to Aegros. Thanking Mezalans during the festival was only natural—like Earth’s tribal rites, except this Wind Lord truly existed.
"Thanks for explaining, Ilan," I said to Ilan, who stood beside me with a juice cup.
"You’re welcome. I should return—Norma will fuss otherwise." She left. *Viter’s squad sure is… overly friendly.*
After chatting with Ilan, I looked back. The speech had ended. The main event began. The azure mass drew nearer.
The mage squad—*not* gymnastics team—finally got to work.
They raised their staves. Magical energy swirled at each tip, guided by the elder on the platform. *So many mages casting together… Are they unleashing a forbidden spell?*
"…Aesthetic magic. No combat use." Aefina sensed my worry, summarizing the group spell in three words. *So it’s just magical fireworks?*
We watched the magic circle form—then *whoosh*—it bloomed. The moment it activated, "bloom" felt like the only word for it.
Beams of multicolored magic shot out, trailing dazzling light as they danced through the air, turning the plaza into a dream. They weaved nimbly through the crowd like living ribbons. Laughter and cheers filled the square.
"So beautiful… Aefina, don’t you think—" I turned to share the sight with her, but froze.
Aefina’s emerald eyes reflected the swirling colors, yet held no joy—only bewilderment and loneliness. She didn’t react to my gaze at all.
I made a bold move. I pulled the dazed Aefina close and wrapped her in a tight hug.
She squirmed slightly, then stilled in my arms. *If she truly resisted, I couldn’t have held her.*
"It’s okay. I’m here." I whispered into her ear.
"……"
No response. *Did I misread her? Failed to impress her… so awkward.* I couldn’t see her face—she kept it hidden against my chest.
Suddenly, the magic beams spiraled upward in perfect unison. They converged mid-air into a single point—then exploded.
Fragments drifted down like glowing snowflakes, dissolving into glittering dust upon touch. Even more breathtaking than before.
Meanwhile, the massive azure cloud arrived. Up close, it resembled mist.
It moved fast, soon enveloping the entire plaza—and likely the whole city. Where it touched skin, it felt like bathing in a spring breeze. *Wind essence?*
The elder began chanting again, his magically amplified voice cutting through the air. Words of gratitude and praise for Mezalans.
The citizens joined in, praying to their faith. A sacred hush fell over the plaza.
Aefina curled tighter against me, burrowing deeper into my embrace. Wind essence swirled fiercely around us—but hidden within the city-wide glow, no one noticed.
The converging elemental essences flowed into Aefina and me like drops merging into the ocean. Since she was curled up in my arms, I absorbed most of the wind essences without even realizing it…
Had I not been so caught up in the embarrassment of failing to charm her, the Prayer Festival might have left a profound mark on my heart.
