Chapter 23

The day of the Bon Festival arrives, and the valley hums with anticipation. Keira stands at the edge of the festival grounds, her eyes scanning the throngs of people gathered before her. Thanks to the efforts of the Mineral Town residents and their promotion, the turnout is far larger than she ever imagined. The valley pulses with life—laughter, excited voices, and an undeniable current of energy flowing through the crowd.

Visitors have come from all over. Some from nearby villages, but others have even journeyed from the city, drawn by the promise of celebration. The usually quiet streets of Forget-Me-Not Valley are alive with families, farmers, and travelers exploring the many stalls and attractions that have transformed the landscape. Seeing it all fills Keira with a mix of pride and nerves. Her vision has taken shape, far beyond her expectations, and now it's thriving.

The festival grounds are nothing short of breathtaking. Stalls, expertly built by Gotz and Zack, line the pathways, offering carnival games, savory food, and charming trinkets. The paper lanterns, carefully crafted by the women of the valley, hang overhead, swaying gently in the soft breeze. Their warm glow grows more prominent as the sun dips toward the horizon, painting the sky in soft oranges and pinks. Everywhere Keira looks, there are smiles—children giggling, families bonding, friends sharing in the joy of the moment. The sound of footsteps and music mingles with the distant hum of conversation, creating a harmonious backdrop to the festival's activities.

Keira breathes it all in. This is what she had hoped for, what she had worked tirelessly to bring to life—a festival that not only celebrates her culture but brings people together. It's a bridge between worlds, old and new, and the sight of it makes her heart swell with gratitude and awe.

The air is thick with the scent of grilled food and the crisp, fresh aroma of the late afternoon as the festival buzzes to life around Muffy. She stands at the middle of the festival, her arms cradling baby Myo against her chest, gently swaying to keep her child calm amidst the chaos. All around her, the children of both Forget-Me-Not Valley and Mineral Town run and play, their laughter and shouts filling the warm, golden air.

Muffy watches them with a soft smile, her heart swelling with warmth as they chase one another in bursts of energy, their faces alight with the joy only children seem to possess. She glances down at Myo, who stirs slightly in her arms, then settles again, her small face resting against the soft fabric of her dress.

The valley has transformed. What was once a quiet, unassuming place now resembles a village from the distant East, steeped in rich culture and tradition. Colorful banners adorned with intricate designs hang from every post and building, fluttering gently in the breeze. Stalls lined with paper lanterns and decorated with symbols of good fortune create a corridor of light and shadow as the sun dips lower in the sky.

It's as if, just for today, they've stepped into another world.

Even Nori and her family, visitors from the far-off town of Konohana, have come to witness the spectacle. Keira catches sight of them standing near one of the food stalls, their expressions a mix of surprise and admiration as they take in the transformation of the valley. Nori's wide-eyed gaze sweeps across the scene, her normally reserved composure slipping into awe.

"I can hardly believe it," Nori says, her voice soft as she looks over at her husband and son. "It's like one of the villages from back home."

Her family nods in agreement, clearly just as astonished as she is. The sight of the festival's intricately designed banners, each carefully placed lantern, each handmade decoration—makes them feel as though they've been transported back to their roots, if only for a fleeting moment.

Keira watches them, feeling a similar sense of wonder. She had known the festival would be special, but now, standing in the middle of it, she realizes just how extraordinary it has become. Her vision, steeped in ancient tradition and rich cultural significance, has come to life. For one day, the valley has become more than the simple, peaceful place they all call home. It has become a celebration of history, of family, and of community.

Popuri and Rick's dunk tank, with Rock perched precariously above the water, quickly becomes one of the festival's most popular attractions. Children and adults alike take turns throwing eggs trying to dunk him, and Rock, ever the showman, hams it up, teasing the crowd with exaggerated taunts as they aim at the target. His laughter echoes through the festival, adding to the fun as one child after another lines up for a chance to send him splashing into the tank.

Meanwhile, the soothing sound of Karen's voice drifts across the festival grounds from the main stage. She sings a soulful melody, accompanied by Pete, Mary, Elli, and Ann, who play a variety of instruments. Their music weaves through the crowd, complementing the lively, joyful atmosphere with its serene yet festive tone.

As Keira makes her way through the festival, she checks on the various activities, ensuring everything runs smoothly. Her eyes land on the stage where she will soon perform the sacred dance of the Hanabishi Queens. The stage has been beautifully set up, adorned with soft lanterns and delicate silk banners. Gustafa and Griffin are already tuning their instruments, preparing for the musical accompaniment to Keira's performance. Even Murray, with his newly acquired bongo skills, is practicing enthusiastically behind the stage, eager to play his part.

Keira feels a deep sense of fulfillment as she walks through the bustling festival. When she first took on the responsibility of organizing the event, she had been uncertain, but now, seeing the joy on the faces of both the valley's residents and the many visitors, she knows she made the right decision. The festival is more than just a celebration—it's a bridge between worlds, a way for Forget-Me-Not Valley and Mineral Town to come together and for her to share a piece of her past with her new community.

But despite the festival's success, the most important moment still lies ahead—the sacred dance of the Hanabishi Queens. Keira has been preparing for this moment the most, knowing that all eyes will be on her during the performance. It is not just a dance; it's an ancient tradition that symbolizes her heritage and honors her ancestors.

As the sun continues to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the valley. The festival is in full swing, and the air is alive with the sounds of music, laughter, and the scent of delicious food. Mark, having finished his work on the farm, steps out of the house, now dressed in casual clothes—comfortable enough to move easily through the lively crowd. The excitement in the air is palpable as he makes his way to where Keira stands near the entrance to their farm, waiting for him.

When Mark sees her, his heart skips a beat. Keira isn't dressed much differently from usual—her simple, elegant yukata flows gently in the breeze—but tonight, something about her takes his breath away. Maybe it's the way the setting sun catches her hair or the soft glow of satisfaction in her eyes from organizing such a successful event. Whatever it is, Mark can't help but think she's more beautiful than ever.

Keira notices him approaching and smiles, her face lighting up with warmth. When their eyes meet, they share a brief, tender moment—silent yet full of understanding. For tonight, they are not farmers or festival organizers. They are simply a couple, ready to enjoy the celebration.

"Ready for a walk around the festival?" Mark asks, offering his arm with a playful smile.

Keira nods, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Lead the way."

Hand in hand, they wander through the festival grounds, weaving through the bustling crowd as they explore together. They stop at various stalls, laughing as they try their hands at games and sampling treats. At the ring toss, Mark almost wins a prize, but Keira's playful nudge throws him off just enough to miss. Their laughter mingles with the happy chatter of the crowd, making the night feel even more magical.

As they pass the food stalls, they spot Cliff, standing shyly behind a booth where he's giving out samples of wine. He waves them over with a modest smile.

"Would you like to try some?" Cliff asks, holding out a small glass of wine.

Mark and Keira exchange grins. "Why not?" Mark replies, taking the glass and passing it to Keira.

Keira takes a delicate sip, savoring the taste before passing it back to Mark. "It's really good," she says, clearly impressed.

Mark nods after taking his own sip. "Manna and Duke got some great wine here, Cliff. I'm sure it'll sell well."

Cliff blushes at the compliment, pleased by the encouragement. "Thanks. It's been fun being part of the festival."

After bidding Cliff farewell, Mark and Keira continue their journey, eventually reaching the beach. The sound of waves gently lapping against the shore blends with the distant music and laughter from the festival. The smell of sizzling food wafts through the air, drawing their attention to Kai's booth, where he's grilling seafood over an open flame.

"Hey, you two! Want to try some beachside specials?" Kai calls out, flashing them a grin as he expertly flips skewers of fish.

Keira hesitates for a moment, then nods, curiosity piqued. "Sure, I'll give it a try."

Mark watches with amusement as Keira bravely samples the different dishes Kai offers. She loves some of them, while others—especially the spicier options—make her blink in surprise. "That's… intense," she laughs, reaching for water.

Mark chuckles, his affection clear. "Told you, Kai's food is a bit of an adventure."

After thanking Kai, they continue walking, the festival slowly fading into the background as they reach a quiet spot along the shore. The lanterns from the festival reflect off the water, creating a serene, magical scene. The stars begin to appear above them, adding to the beauty of the moment.

"How are you feeling now?" Mark asks softly as they stop by the water's edge.

Keira gazes out at the ocean, the gentle rhythm of the waves soothing her. "Relieved. Happy. Proud," she admits, her voice full of emotion. "I wasn't sure I could pull this off, but seeing everyone enjoying themselves… it's more than I could have hoped for."

Mark wraps an arm around Keira, pulling her close as they stand together, watching the waves roll gently onto the shore. "You did an amazing job, Keira. I'm so proud of you."

They remain there in comfortable silence, the cool breeze tousling their hair as they enjoy the peace of the moment and each other's presence. As they turn back toward the heart of the festival, hand in hand, they know this day will forever be etched in their memories—a day of celebration, connection, and emotions in the valley they now call home.

Walking through the festival with Mark, Keira's heart flutters with joy as her vision comes to life around her. Laughter and music fill the air, booths bustle with activity, and everywhere she looks, she sees smiles. But when she checks the time, a flicker of urgency sparks in her chest. It's almost time for her performance—the centerpiece of the festival, the sacred dance of the Hanabishi Queens.

She squeezes Mark's hand gently, turning to him with eyes wide in anticipation. "I have to go," she says softly, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. "Meet me by the stage in ten minutes?"

Mark raises an eyebrow, sensing the importance of the moment, but he nods without hesitation. "Of course. I'll be there."

With a grateful smile, Keira slips away from the crowd, weaving through the bustling festival as she makes her way toward the Blue Bar. Her heart races—not just from the rush of time but from the weight of what's ahead. This dance is more than a performance; it's a tribute to her ancestors, her heritage, and everything she carries with her as a Hanabishi queen.

Inside the bar, the familiar scents of wood and old liquors do little to calm her nerves, but Keira pushes those thoughts aside. She heads to the back room where her robe hang, waiting. The heavy fabric drapes across her fingers as she runs her hands over the intricate embroidery. Rich blues and reds patterns around the yellow silk. To her, this is more than clothing. It's a symbol of who she is, of where she came from.

With a steadying breath, Keira changes into her robe and picks up the hansu fan, feeling the weight of tradition settle over her shoulders. She leaves the bar, hurrying toward the side of the stage, where Gustafa, Griffin, and Murray wait, instruments in hand. They exchange encouraging glances, and Keira nods at them, grateful for their support. With one final deep breath, they steps onto the stage.

As soon as she emerges, a hush falls over the festival. All eyes turn toward her, drawn to the sight of Keira in her regal robe, moving with grace and purpose. Her heart pounds in her chest, but the moment she stands beneath the soft glow of the lanterns, a calm washes over her. This dance is in her blood, passed down through generations, and tonight, it will honor both her past and her present.

Among the crowd, Keira spots Mark near the front. His eyes widen in awe, surprise etched across his face. He had no idea she had planned something so significant. Their gazes meet, and in that brief moment, the silent connection between them gives her strength. She knows she can do this.

Taking a deep breath, Keira speaks, her voice steady yet warm, carrying through the still air. "Thank you, everyone, for being here tonight and for making this festival such an incredible success. This festival means more to me than I can express. It is a bridge between the past and the present, a way to honor where we come from while celebrating who we are now. I have been welcomed into this valley with so much kindness and warmth, and organizing this festival has been my way of giving something back to all of you."

She pauses, scanning the faces of the valley's residents and visitors, feeling a swell of gratitude. "In the Hanabishi kingdom, festivals like this brought people together, just as this one has. It's about tradition, unity, and the stories we share. I hope this festival will become a cherished tradition for many years to come."

Her eyes soften as they find Mark again, standing at the front of the crowd, his gaze unwavering. "Tonight, I will perform a special dance—the sacred dance of the Hanabishi Queens. It has been passed down through the women of my family, performed by the queens of my homeland to honor the bonds we share with those we care about and the world we protect."

Her smile turns tender, emotion threading through her voice. "I would like to dedicate this dance to my husband, Mark, for his unconditional support, his kindness, and for standing by my side through everything. This is for you."

As she finishes speaking, Keira bows her head slightly, the crowd falling into a reverent hush. She feels the energy of the moment rising within her, the significance of the night filling her with resolve. This will be one of the most important performances of her life.

And then, Keira's voice rang out.

Her singing, in the language of her ancestors, was pure and melodic—angelic. The unfamiliar words, though foreign to most, conveyed a deep sense of tradition, history, and grace. As her voice carried over the valley, despite nobody understanding the language, everyone felt the power of her song. It was ancient and timeless, evoking the distant past of noble people, yet still resonating with a sense of immediate, heartfelt emotion.

With a flick of the hansu fan, the music starts and Keira begins to dance. Keira's movements followed the rhythm, graceful yet precise, each step measured and deliberate. She moved with the elegance of a queen, but there was something more—a softness, a fluidity that belied the heavy robe she wore. The rich fabric, seemed to float around her as though it weighed nothing at all.

Mark watched in awe, his eyes never leaving her. He knew how heavy the ceremonial robe was; he'd seen her wear it before. It was meant to symbolize the weight of responsibility borne by the queens of the Hanabishi, a physical manifestation of their duties to their people and their land. But watching Keira dance now, her grace untouched by the burden of the garment, he realized something deeper about her.

She had been raised in what many might consider a "primitive" time, where traditions seemed distant from the modern world. Yet in this moment, Mark and everyone else watching could see the artistry, the beauty, and the sophistication of her culture. The Hanabishi were not just warriors; they were pioneers of art, keepers of elegance, and masters of balance—finding harmony between strength and beauty.

Every movement, every step Keira took was filled with purpose. Her arms moved like flowing water, and her feet barely seemed to touch the ground. The fan she wielded, adorned with the symbol of her people, fluttered with each turn, as though carried by the wind itself. It wasn't just a dance; it was a story—one passed down from generation to generation, now being told by Keira, the last princess of the Hanabishi, here in Forget-Me-Not Valley.

Mark felt his chest tighten with emotion as he watched her. This was more than a performance. It was a window into her soul. She was showing him, and everyone present, a part of herself that ran deep—deeper than he could have ever imagined. It wasn't just her skill or her voice that captivated him; it was the essence of her being, the way she carried herself with such pride and grace, embodying the legacy of her people with every step.

Keira moved effortlessly, her voice weaving in and out of the music as she continued to sing the sacred verses. As the song swelled, her dance reached its peak, her arms outstretched as if embracing the sky. For a brief moment, the entire valley seemed to hold its breath, captivated by her presence.

And in that moment, Mark realized just how extraordinary the woman he had married truly was. He had always known she was strong, intelligent, and kind. But now, he saw her in a new light—she was a beacon of tradition, a living symbol of resilience, and a reminder of the beauty in both art and heritage.

All he could do was admire her. The crowd may have been there to witness a festival performance, but Mark knew they were witnessing something far more profound. Keira, in her song and dance, was not only honoring her past but forging a new path in the present—bringing the ancient and the modern together in perfect harmony.

As the final note rang out and Keira struck her final pose, the valley erupted in applause once again, louder and more impassioned than before. Yet, Mark couldn't bring himself to clap immediately. He was too awestruck, too overwhelmed by what he had just seen.

He had fallen in love with Keira a while ago, but tonight, watching her perform the sacred dance of her people, he realized that he hadn't yet even begun to understand the depth of the woman he had married. And in that moment, his admiration and love for her grew even deeper.

The festival was winding down as Patrick and Kassey busily loaded the fireworks onto the platform. Soon, the sky would be filled with dazzling colors, marking the close of the event. The atmosphere was alive with the lingering joy of the day, and Keira found herself walking hand in hand with Mark, the fading laughter of festival-goers filling the air as they ventured near the forest's edge.

Mark had been quiet for a few moments, taking in everything that had happened. Finally, as they stopped beneath the moonlit trees, he broke the silence. "Keira," he began, turning to face her, his voice filled with awe. "I… I can't even begin to describe how incredible your performance was tonight."

Keira blushed slightly, lowering her gaze. "It was nothing," she said softly. "Just a part of my heritage, something I was taught long ago."

Mark gently lifted the sleeve of her robe, feeling the weight of the chainmail woven into the fabric. His brows furrowed in surprise. "This… it's so heavy. How did you manage to move so gracefully in this?"

Keira smiled at him, her eyes glowing in the soft light. "In the Hanabishi royal family, our robes serve many purposes. They are not only for protection but are also a display of our dedication and strength. For us, wearing them is an honor and a symbol of our loyalty." She looked up at him, her voice tender as she added, "And for you, Mark, I would happily wear these robes every day. They are my way of showing you my devotion to you, just as I would for any king."

Mark's heart clenched at her words. Her loyalty, her quiet strength, and the depth of her love hit him in a way he hadn't anticipated. His emotions overwhelmed him, and without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.

Keira's breath hitched in surprise, but her eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed him back, soft and gentle. It was their first kiss—despite already being married for a year. Here, under the soft glow of the moon and the warmth of the festival's aftermath, they finally shared it. The fireworks blast in the air, bringing light and colors to bless their union.

They pulled away, both breathless. Keira smiled at him, her heart pounding, her lips still tingling from the kiss. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something from the light of the fireworks—someone. A figure, cloaked in the shadows, deep in the forest.

"Namonaki?" she gasped, her brow furrowing as she broke away from Mark and rushed toward the woods.

"Keira, wait!" Mark called after her, panic rising in his chest. He quickly followed her into the woods, his heart racing. Keira was fast, but as she looked around, darting through the trees, the figure had already vanished. She stood still for a moment, her breathing uneven as she scanned the forest, but there was no one in sight.

Mark caught up to her, grabbing her arm gently. "Keira, what's going on?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

She turned to him, her face serious, her eyes searching the shadows. "I thought I saw Namonaki… My old caregiver from the castle. I swear, I saw her standing right there."

Mark's heart dropped. He knew exactly who she had seen, but it wasn't her caregiver anymore. It was Witch Princess. His mind raced as he tried to think of how to handle this. Keira couldn't know what had truly been happening since the castle was destroyed centuries ago. He had been keeping things from her for too long, and now it had caught up to him.

"Mark," Keira said, her voice low and sharp. "What's wrong? Why are you panicking?"

He swallowed hard, avoiding her gaze as his hand tightened around hers. "Keira… there's something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago."

Her eyes widened in confusion. "What is it, Mark?"

Mark's face twisted in a mix of guilt and fear. He couldn't lie to her any longer. "It really was Namonaki you saw… I've been keeping things from you, but I can't anymore. I promise I'll explain everything when we get home."

Keira's heart raced at his words. "Namonaki is here? But how?"

Without another word, Mark led her by the hand, pulling her gently back toward their home. Keira could feel the tension between them, but she trusted Mark. He had always been there for her, and now, she would wait for the truth—no matter what it was.

As they walked, the final boom of the fireworks echoed through the valley, the sky lighting up in vibrant colors. But for Keira and Mark, the night had taken a much different turn, and they both knew that once the truth was revealed, things might never be the same again.