The hours passed slowly, the steady rhythm of flight marked only by the measured beating of wings and the gradual change in the light in the sky. The vast blue dissolved into warmer tones, then into deep oranges, until the horizon began to fade into soft shadows. The world below them also changed—mountains giving way to plains, fields crisscrossed by small paths, and eventually, signs of more organized life emerging here and there.

Then the lake appeared.

Large, serene, reflecting the darkening sky like a mirror broken by slight ripples, and around it, a small but vibrant city, its lights beginning to illuminate one by one, creating golden points that twinkled against the dark blue of the forming night. It wasn’t grand like the capital they sought, nor did it carry an imposing presence, but there was something welcoming there—something that invited rest.

Scarlett gradually reduced her speed, her wide wings cutting through the air with less force as she descended towards the wooded area on the outskirts of the city. Strax effortlessly followed the movement, staying beside her until they both touched the ground between the trees, far enough away to avoid curious glances, but close enough to reach the city on foot.

The transformation came naturally, almost silently. Scales vanished, the colossal size shrank, and in a few moments, four human figures were once again among the shadows of the forest, with the distant sounds of the city filling the surrounding space—voices, music, laughter.

"There’s movement," Tiamat commented, tilting her head slightly as she observed the lights.

"More than usual," added Scarlett, her eyes attentive, analyzing the pattern of the illuminations, the colors, the sounds. "It looks... like a festival."

Strax ran a hand through his hair, letting out a soft sigh as he looked ahead.

"Perfect," he murmured. "We land tired and fall in the middle of a celebration."

Despite his words, there was no irritation there.

Only observation. They walked into town without difficulty, blending easily into the flow of people coming and going, no one paying them too much attention—travelers were common, and the festive night seemed to occupy the minds of the locals more than anything else.

The inn soon appeared.

Simple, but well-kept, with warm light escaping through the windows and the muffled sound of conversations coming from inside. The process was quick, almost automatic at this point. A room, a few questions, payment made.

And soon they were inside again.

The space was comfortable enough, a clear improvement over the last inn, but still without excess. The bed was large, the environment clean, and the internal silence contrasted with the lively murmur coming from the street.

For a few minutes—

No one said anything.

Each one absorbing the moment.

Ouroboros sat on the edge of the bed, letting out a soft sigh as she ran her hand through her hair, still slightly damp from her previous bath, her body finally beginning to recognize the accumulated fatigue.

Tiamat leaned against the wall near the window, looking out where the colored lights were beginning to intensify, shadows moving between tents, people walking, music echoing more clearly now.

Scarlett crossed her arms, observing the ceiling for a moment before turning her gaze to the rest of the group.

It was Strax who broke the silence.

"So..." he said, in a light, almost casual tone, although his eyes were already on the window as well. "It seems the city is celebrating something."

Tiamat made a small sound through her nose.

"Don’t tell me," she replied dryly, but not hostilely.

Strax smiled slightly.

"Do you want to go?" he asked, turning to them.

The answer came too quickly.

"No." Scarlett and Tiamat spoke almost simultaneously.

And that, in itself, said quite a lot.

Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Tired?" he asked, though the answer was obvious.

"Yes," Scarlett replied directly. "And I’m not in the mood for crowds."

Tiamat nodded slightly.

"Neither am I," she said. "Too much noise. Too much... contact."

She grimaced slightly, as if the idea itself was uncomfortable.

There was a short pause.

And then—

Scarlett looked directly at Strax.

"But you can go," she said.

He blinked once.

"Me?"

"Yes," Tiamat continued, now discreetly glancing at Ouroboros before returning to him. "Take her."

The silence that followed was brief.

But significant.

Strax looked at one.

Then at the other.

And then—

He understood.

The smile that appeared on his lips wasn’t wide.

But it was sincere.

"...I understand," he murmured.

Scarlett shrugged slightly, as if it were nothing.

"She needs to clear her head," she said. "And you do too."

Tiamat crossed her arms.

"And someone has to enjoy all this stuff out there," she added, with a slight gesture toward the window.

Ouroboros, who had remained silent until then, slowly raised her gaze, alternating between the three, clearly perceiving what was happening, even if she didn’t comment immediately.

There was a slight blush on her face.

Subtle.

But present.

"You..." she began, but stopped before finishing, looking away for a moment.

Scarlett merely raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going or not?" she asked.

Ouroboros hesitated.

Just for a second.

And then nodded slightly.

"...I’m going," she said, more quietly.

Strax chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair as he moved away from the wall.

"Then let’s go before you change your minds," he commented.

Tiamat made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"Just don’t take too long," she said.

Scarlett was already lying down.

"And don’t cause any trouble," she added, without opening her eyes.

Strax opened the door, glancing briefly at Ouroboros.

"Ready?" he asked.

She rose from the bed more firmly than before, adjusting her clothes slightly before walking over to him.

"Yes," she replied.

And then—

They left.

The door closed behind them with a soft sound, leaving Tiamat and Scarlett alone in the room, the silence gradually returning.

Tiamat stared at the door for a few seconds.

Then she let out a small sigh.

"Did you notice?" she asked.

Scarlett opened one eye.

"Yes."

"They needed this," Tiamat continued.

Scarlett closed her eye again.

"She needed more."

The silence returned.

But this time—

Lighter.

Outside, the city vibrated with life, colors, and sounds, and as Strax and Ouroboros walked toward that small celebration, something between them began to adjust.

Unresolved.

But... in motion.

And sometimes—

That was enough.

Night had fully fallen when they left the inn.

The city, which had previously seemed like just another small stop beside a tranquil lake, now pulsed with life. Paper lanterns hung along the streets, swaying gently in the night breeze, casting warm hues of orange and gold over the buildings and the people who wandered between stalls and small impromptu performances. The sound of soft music filled the air—strings, flutes, laughter—creating an almost magical atmosphere, far removed from any tension that had marked the previous days.

Strax walked beside Ouroboros, deliberately keeping a slower pace, as if he wanted her to absorb everything without haste. He didn’t hold her hand this time—not directly—but their fingers were close enough that, if she wanted, a small movement would suffice.

And she did.

Without saying anything, Ouroboros intertwined her fingers with his again, with a gentle, almost shy firmness. There was no urgency in that gesture. There was no glaring insecurity. It was... a choice.

Strax glanced at their clasped hands, and a small smile appeared naturally, without him needing to comment.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, without breaking the light tone of the night.

Ouroboros looked around as they walked, her eyes reflecting the lantern lights, absorbing every detail as if rediscovering the world.

"I’m... calmer," she replied sincerely. Her voice was still low, but it no longer carried that crushing weight of before. "It’s strange."

Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Strange how?"

She thought for a moment, lightly squeezing his fingers as they passed a group of children running with small hand-held fireworks, laughing loudly.

"After all that... I didn’t think I could get this fast," she admitted. "But... being here... with you..." she hesitated for a second, glancing at the ground, clearly choosing her words more carefully than usual. "It helps."

Strax didn’t answer immediately.

But the grip of his hand adjusted slightly to hers.

"Good to know I have some use besides breaking things," he said, with a slight hint of humor.

Ouroboros let out a small, low, but genuine laugh.

"You break a lot of things," she murmured.

"Only when necessary."

"That’s not true."

"It’s an interpretation."

She shook her head slightly, still with that small smile on her lips, and for a few moments they just walked in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.

It was... comfortable.

Natural.

They stopped in front of a stall where a man was selling small caramelized skewers, the sweet aroma mixed with the faint smell of embers immediately drawing attention. Strax tilted his head slightly.

"Want some?" he asked.

Ouroboros looked, analyzing as if it were something completely new to her—which, in a sense, perhaps it was.

"I don’t know what it is," she admitted.

"That doesn’t usually stop you."

"Normally I’m not... trying not to cause an existential crisis in the middle of a festival," she replied, with a slight dry irony.

Strax let out a short laugh.

"Fair enough."

He then bought two skewers, handing one to her. Ouroboros observed for a second before taking a small bite, cautious at first... and then blinked slowly.

"This is... good."

"I know."

She took another bite, now without hesitation, and for a moment seemed completely focused on it, which made Strax smile slightly.

"You’re frighteningly easy to please sometimes."

"I almost destroyed the sky today," she replied dryly. "Let me enjoy a sweet in peace."

"Valid point."

They continued walking, now with Ouroboros closer, almost lightly touching his arm without realizing it. At a certain point, the music got a little louder, and a small open area revealed people dancing simply, without defined choreography, just following the rhythm.

Ouroboros slowed her pace.

Her eyes lingered there for a few seconds.

Observing.

Strax noticed.

"Want to go?" he asked casually.

She immediately looked away.

"No."

"You didn’t even think about it."

"I thought about it enough."

He tilted his head slightly, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press immediately. "You were looking."

"I look at a lot of things."

"But you just stood there."

She made a small, almost imperceptible grimace, clearly annoyed that he was right.

"I don’t know how to dance," she finally said, more quietly.

Strax shrugged.

"Neither do I."

She looked at him suspiciously.

"You’re lying."

"I’m not."

"You seem like the type who would know."

"That’s a completely arbitrary judgment."

She crossed her arms slightly with her free hand, still holding the skewer with the other.

"You know how to fight, fly, destroy mountains, lead armies..." she paused briefly. "But you don’t know how to dance?"

"Priorities," he replied simply.

Ouroboros let out a small sigh, but there was a slight smile there.

Strax then extended his free hand toward her.

"Then learn from me." She looked at her hand.

Then at him.

There was a clear hesitation.

Her fingers tightened slightly on her own skewer before she finally sighed.

"This is a terrible idea," she murmured.

But even so—

She placed her hand in his.

Strax didn’t pull hard.

He didn’t rush.

He simply guided her gently to the open area, where some people were already watching them curiously, but without real judgment—it was a festival, after all.

The music was light, steady, with an easy-to-follow rhythm.

"Okay," said Strax, positioning himself in front of her. "Apparently the idea is just... not to look completely lost."

"This isn’t helpful."

"It’s the best I have."

Ouroboros narrowed her eyes slightly, but didn’t let go of his hand.

At first, it was... awkward.

Uncertain steps.

Small mistakes.

She clearly overthought each movement, her body rigid, as if any mistake were a critical failure.

Strax noticed quickly.

"You’re treating this like a fight," he commented.

"I treat everything like a fight."

"I know. And that doesn’t help here."

She let out a small, irritated sigh.

"So what do I do?"

Strax took a slight step closer, closing the distance between them.

"Stop thinking."

"That’s not helpful either."

"Trust me."

She froze for a second.

Her eyes met his.

And, for an instant... that same internal conflict seemed to arise.

But it was different this time.

Smaller.

More controlled.

She took a deep breath.

And released the tension from her shoulders.

The next steps... were better.

Not perfect yet.

But more natural.

Less forced.

Strax guided with simple movements, keeping the rhythm, adjusting when necessary, always without pressing, just... following.

And little by little—

Ouroboros began to relax.

One wrong step turned into a small smile.

Another turned into a lighter breath.

And then—

She laughed.

Softly.

But genuinely.

"This is still a terrible idea," she said, but now without any negative weight.

"But you’re smiling."

"Don’t comment on that."

"Too late."

She rolled her eyes slightly, but didn’t let go of his hand.

At that moment, under the soft lights of the lanterns, with the music filling the air and the world reduced to a small space between two clumsy steps—

She seemed... okay.

Really.

And Strax noticed it.

Without needing to say anything.

When the music ended, they stopped naturally, still close, still connected, but now in silence.

A different kind of silence.

Lighter.

Ouroboros looked away first, but didn’t immediately let go of his hand.

"It wasn’t... so bad," she admitted.

Strax smiled.

"I’ll take that as a compliment."

She let out a small sigh, but there was warmth there.

"Don’t get used to it."

"Impossible not to."

She finally let go of his hand—

But didn’t move away.

And when they started walking again, this time she took a small step closer, her shoulder lightly brushing against his.

Without thinking.

Without hesitating.

The night continued around them, alive, luminous, full of small, simple moments—

But for Ouroboros—

That... was enough.