CHAPTER 260: CELEBRATION

"The celebration weaves the crowd together as the most magnificent of cloths.’’ -Lux Leclair.

•••

In the center, both combatants stood.

Eltreth’s spear was planted in the ground, her using it to hold herself up. Her flames were gone, her hair was singed, and she was breathing in ragged, exhausted gasps. But her eyes were alight with pure, unadulterated joy.

Nero stood opposite her, the golden lightning around him sputtering and dying. Sweat poured down his face, and his arms hung limply at his sides, completely drained.

He took a step forward, then another, until he was standing before her. He offered a hand.

Eltreth looked at his hand, then up at his face. The arrogant princess was gone, replaced by a warrior who had found a worthy rival. She took his hand.

"You win, Nero," she breathed, her voice hoarse.

He shook his head, a tired but genuine smile on his face. "That wasn’t a win. That was a draw. And it was the best fight I’ve had in a long time."

It was the truth. They had fought to a standstill, and in doing so, they had created something epic, a spectacle of fire and lightning that truly beautiful, this woman’s sense when it comes to a fight was beastly, a prodigy born to fight.

The air still crackled with the residual energy of the clash, the scorched earth and glassy crater a silent testament to the battle between fire and lightning. As the adrenaline faded, a collective exhaustion, warm and satisfied, settled over the group. The competitive fire had burned itself out, leaving behind the easy comfort of camaraderie.

Lux clapped his hands together, the sound breaking the post-battle stillness. "Alright, I think we’ve seen enough destruction for one day. I know just the place to unwind."

He led them away from the ravaged training grounds, through a shimmering portal that deposited them in a part of the pocket world they hadn’t seen before. A collective, soft gasp escaped them.

They stood at the edge of a breathtaking valley that seemed to be woven from every color imaginable. A sea of flowers stretched to the horizon—sapphire bluebells, crimson poppies, sun-gold marigolds, and violet lavender, all swaying in a gentle, perfumed breeze. In the center of this vibrant ocean stood a charming, rustic wooden house with a wide, wraparound porch. The air was thick with the sweet scent of nectar and the lazy hum of bees. It was a world away from the elemental fury of minutes before.

"This is the family’s retreat," Lux explained with a fond smile. "For when the real world gets too loud."

The unspoken decision was made instantly. They would stay. The plan for a celebratory barbecue formed without a single word of debate. Nero’s awakening was not just his victory; it was a momentous event for all of them, a crack in the ceiling of what they’d believed possible, and it demanded celebration.

The group fell into a natural, harmonious rhythm of preparation, their earlier rivalries forgotten.

Adam, in his element, took charge of the fire and the meat. He found a stone fire pit behind the house and, with a few focused applications of his earth magic, shaped it into a perfect grill. He then produced an entire, seasoned side of beef and several whole chickens from his spatial ring with the solemn pride of a master craftsman presenting his materials. "Leave the fire to me," he rumbled, using a controlled pulse of heat from a small, enchanted stone to ignite the kindling—a dwarf’s precise alternative to wild flame.

Lux and Blake became the foraging party. Lux, with his innate grace, moved through the flower fields, gathering wild herbs, onions, and tubers he knew were safe to eat. Blake, despite his groans, was surprisingly effective, his lazy eyes spotting clusters of plump, sun-ripened berries and strange, sweet fruits that hung from the trees at the valley’s edge. He carried his haul in a basket, moving with a languid efficiency that somehow got the job done.

Meanwhile, Eltreth and Azalea took over the porch. A table and chairs were brought out, and with a few elegant waves of her wand, Azalea summoned a gentle breeze that swept away any dust and laid out crisp linen tablecloths. Eltreth, her fiery aggression completely banked, focused on detail. She used her precise control over heat not for destruction, but to carefully warm plates and keep a large pot of water at a perfect simmer for tea, her concentration a different kind of intensity.

And at the heart of it all were Nero and Khione.

While the others worked, they claimed a quiet spot on the porch steps, partially hidden by climbing jasmine. Khione had produced a first-aid kit and was meticulously applying a cooling salve to the minor burns on Nero’s arms, her touch gentle and focused. He sat patiently, his gaze soft as he watched her. There were no grand words, no dramatic declarations. He simply reached out and tucked a strand of her silvery-white hair behind her ear, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. A faint, rosy blush colored her porcelain skin, and she leaned into the touch for a brief, precious second before returning to her task. It was a quiet, intimate exchange that spoke volumes more than any passionate embrace could have.

Soon, the scent of sizzling, seasoned meat from Adam’s grill mingled with the floral perfume of the valley, creating an aroma that was pure bliss. Laughter echoed as Lux and Blake returned, their baskets overflowing. The table was set, the drinks were poured—a sparkling elven wine from Azalea, a rich, dark dwarven ale from Adam, and a delicate, honeyed mead that Lux produced.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple that rivaled Eltreth’s flames, they gathered around the table, plates piled high with food.

Lux raised his glass. "To Nero," he said, his silver eyes reflecting the firelight. "For reminding us that the rules are just suggestions waiting to be broken."

A chorus of "Hear, hear!" and "To Nero!" rang out, glasses clinking together.

The conversation flowed as freely as the drinks. They replayed moments from the fights, Adam roaring with laughter as he imitated Nero’s lightning-fast dodges, Lux elegantly describing the beauty of Khione’s ice spells.