A Wish to Grab Happiness

It was a grand feast, staged in a capital called Galuamaria.

Even those that spend their days laboring and just making less money, all this time today, they laugh single-handedly at the booze. That makes no difference to men or women.

Just celebrate, just sing. That is the purely permissible place. That was the feast of the day.

Rituals, ceremonies, alliance agreements. The callers will surely vary. But whatever it is, it is certain that on this day a feast will be held to bless the alliance between the creed and Gaza and hope that they will remain eternal friends.

There is anxiety about the future. Whatever the overwhelming forces, the Catholic Church and nations are turning their fangs to us. In a moment, those who celebrated with us today will be losing their lives tomorrow. The battlefield leans right beside it.

That's why we're laughing today. Let's celebrate now instead of worrying about tomorrow when the cold wind blows.

Living is not about leaking whimpers about the past, nor is it about looking to the future and fighting terror, because we are talking about walking at this moment.

As sympathetic to the feelings held by someone like that, the entire Gallu Amalia was leaking a lively exhale.

The ceremony was opened in one square, its vibrant centre.

The square was equipped with various buildings that would be required for the ceremony, as well as a large international courtesy platform.

The altar is built on a stacked white stone so that what is present at its top can be seen well from the surroundings. White stones lined up undisturbed were illuminated by the sun, giving the beholder a majestic atmosphere.

Sitting on the altar are the undisputed representatives of the crest religion and Gaza.

Namely, Mattia the Virgin and Fin-Erdis the Queen of Gaza. As an indication of their friendship with each other, they are neighboring each other and smiling slightly in exchange of words.

I don't know if that's what they were originally woven into, or if it's a naturally interacted conversation. But every citizen sees the sight and thinks:

Creed and Gaza, man and elf were indisputable, and with this time they took their hands. The bond must be like an iron chain. Everyone thought there was an indisputable sign of friendship here.

The truth is, it won't be. Humans and elves, the walls of the race, besides thoughts, are deep. There is no overlap between customs, cultures, or even words of one another.

Perhaps one day it will be different.

Today, however, both the citizens of Galuamaria and the elves of Gaza confirmed each other's friendship. We talked about it, trying to make it a fact thing.

It is yet to be known whether it will end in oblivion, or whether it will be eternal.

"Today, at this time, our bond will be inscribed in history."

The often sounding voice of the Virgin Mattia covered the sky. Citizens surrounding the ceremonial bench grunt like waves and respond to their voices. Is that no longer cheering, or just a huge chunk of sound so elusive? That's all the noise was drifting around the altar.

"Elves and humans, there is no hedge of race here, and we swear we will face with pride everything that harms us"

The voice of Fin-Erdis, Queen of Gaza, is shaken by the wind, let's shake it. The reaction, not unlike that to the Virgin Mattia, but rather even stronger, engulfed the whole of Galuamaria.

Citizens stand ear to ear as everyone leaks cheers and shows joy throughout their body, but not to overhear their voices at all.

One, another word is engraved. Gallu Amalia vibrates and her voice echoes again. After it was repeated several times, Larguedo-Ann, a bystander of the Virgin Mattia and a ceremonial facilitator, opened his mouth as if he had anticipated the venue.

"Now we will perform the crest ritual - Rugis, forward"

Would it have coincided with that word? On one road made to continue from the stairs provided for the altar, he showed himself.

First name, Rugis.

Some citizens know him and speak up, while others are surprised who the hell he is. In it, one open road, he walks.

The outfit was not one that seemed to be somewhere rough at all times, but one close to a military uniform based on deep greenery. Make a blunt noise as the treasure sword at the waist reflects the sunlight.

The way he walks is hard to say anything less ceremonial. Instead, the movement is close to nature, shaking somewhere every bit. But the citizens, of course, did nothing to blame, not even Anne or those sitting on the altar.

Everyone just quietly waits for him to finish walking down the road and go up to the altar. It was only at first that the citizens who were obsessed also gradually began to watch him only, and at the end only the sound of Rugis walking and the sound of the treasure sword being swayed echoed as the silence dominated his surroundings.

When Rugis finished ascending the altar, he stayed in front of the Virgin Mattia and Queen Fin-Erdis, Fuku. The dark green outfit on the white keynote ceremony deck showed well.

From Ann's mouth, the facilitator, a predetermined mouth is said. Let Rugis' accomplishments stain the surroundings with how resolute and difficult it is to achieve. And tell, as if all of them could have been accomplished by him alone.

As for Rugis, there's probably an emotion sprouting in his chest that says it's impotent. But what, rituals, etc. are roughly done.

A crest ritual is a ritual that freaks a human being out as a hero. It is such a ritual to give birth again to someone who is nothing more than a man, in the name of the God of the Crest.

Ann's words, which were echoing around her, end. As I indicated, Mattia the Virgin moved one step forward, out.

"- A man, Rugis. Will you be born again in this world as a hero?"

With Fu in place, he raised his gaze slightly and Rugis responded. My hair was shaken by the wind.

"- Yeah, let's believe there is."

To the answer, Virgin Mattia loosened her cheeks slightly. Never to the extent that it is unreadable from the surroundings. He smiles at Rugis, wondering if it is different from the answer he originally prescribed.

But I don't mind that either. Whatever it is, Rugis received it. To be under the crest of teachings. I did admit in my words that I would be a hero of the crest. That's all Mattia's heart is, a melting thought. That's the one thing I can never put on my face.

"Then in the name of our great God Ouhul, Rugis, from now on you will be a hero. God will welcome your row seats!

In words that pierce Mattia's air, the audience boils.

That was cheering as if the flames were spraying up. It moves, as if the audience itself were one organism.

Now before their eyes, a single hero was born.

Hero. Something that will save you everything. Something spoiled by destiny. Something to repaint history with. That's right in front of me now. Everyone's heart exalts. Now there was a temper behind my chest that I was the living witness to history.

Rugis was one of those cheers, only slightly narrowing his eyes. That's not even God knows what emotions are swirling behind that chest.

So there is only one thing that is clear. Only that the story of him, Rugis, has finally given birth here.

Was it around the time when the noise around me finally showed a little calm? Mattia leaks her voice again, as if foreseen.

"- Rugis. No, hero Rugis. Let's celebrate your new birth."

Mattia's voice, strangely smooth and then full of emotion, strokes Rugis' shoulder.

"So give you a second name - a crest - that you were born a hero."

The Virgin's lips swayed as if they swayed in the wind.