Chapter 139 - 134: The Festival of Greenhollow
The following morning arrived with an unusual amount of excitement.
John noticed it almost immediately.
Even before he stepped downstairs, he could hear cheerful voices drifting in through the open window. Wagons rolled along the streets, merchants called out to customers far earlier than usual, and somewhere in the distance, musicians were already tuning their instruments.
He frowned slightly.
"...What’s going on?"
---
When he reached the dining hall, he found everyone already awake.
Lythriel was sitting by the window, watching the busy streets below with obvious curiosity.
Aerion sipped a cup of tea while reading a local notice board someone had brought into the inn.
Sylvara was speaking with the innkeeper.
Even the Soul Raven had perched itself outside on the windowsill, quietly observing the town.
John took his seat.
"I feel like I missed something."
The innkeeper laughed as she placed a plate of warm bread and eggs before him.
"You picked the perfect time to visit."
John looked up.
"Why?"
"It’s Founder’s Day."
---
Lythriel turned toward him with an excited grin.
"Apparently the whole town celebrates today."
"There’ll be games, music, food..."
She paused dramatically.
"...and a tournament."
John sighed.
"I should’ve guessed that’s the part you’d be excited about."
She didn’t even deny it.
"Of course."
---
Aerion folded the notice and handed it to John.
"It’s mostly for entertainment."
John skimmed through it.
The festival included:
* Archery competitions.
* Blacksmith demonstrations.
* Children’s races.
* Hunting contests.
* Magical performances.
* A friendly martial tournament.
At the bottom of the page, one sentence caught his attention.
**’Visitors are welcome to participate.’**
John quietly handed the notice back.
"I think I’ll pass."
Lythriel blinked.
"...Really?"
He nodded.
"We’ve been fighting almost nonstop."
"I’d rather enjoy the festival."
She looked genuinely surprised.
"...You’re changing."
John smiled.
"I’ll take that as a compliment."
---
After breakfast, the group headed into town.
The transformation was remarkable.
Colorful banners stretched across every street.
Fresh flowers decorated doors and windows.
Children ran around wearing flower crowns while musicians filled the air with lively melodies.
Stalls lined both sides of the main road.
Fresh pastries.
Roasted meat.
Handcrafted jewelry.
Wooden toys.
Rare herbs.
Everything the nearby villages had to offer was gathered in one place.
Sylvara’s eyes lit up.
"It’s beautiful..."
Aerion nodded.
"Small towns always put their hearts into celebrations."
---
John found himself relaxing almost immediately.
There was no pressure.
No hidden enemy.
No mystery waiting to be solved.
Just ordinary people enjoying an ordinary day.
He didn’t realize how much he had needed this.
---
As they wandered through the marketplace, Lythriel suddenly stopped.
"Oh."
John nearly walked into her.
"What is it?"
She pointed toward a nearby stall.
The sign read:
**Honey Cakes**
Her eyes sparkled.
"I want one."
John looked at the enormous crowd surrounding the stall.
"...You’ll be waiting a while."
"I know."
She immediately joined the line.
Sylvara giggled.
"I’ll stay with her."
Aerion looked toward John.
"We’ll meet back here in an hour?"
John nodded.
"Sounds good."
The group split up.
---
For the first time in weeks...
John found himself completely alone.
He wandered slowly through the festival, taking in the sights.
A blacksmith demonstrated how enchanted steel was forged.
Children clapped excitedly as a traveling magician produced glowing butterflies from thin air.
An elderly storyteller gathered dozens of listeners beneath a large oak tree, recounting old legends of heroes and dragons.
John smiled faintly.
If only they knew how close some of those stories were to reality.
---
He eventually stopped before a small woodworking stall.
Unlike the larger merchants, this one wasn’t crowded.
An old craftsman carefully carved a wooden bird with practiced hands.
Without looking up, the man spoke.
"Beautiful day."
John smiled.
"It is."
The old craftsman nodded.
"You’ve traveled far."
John blinked.
"Was it that obvious?"
The man chuckled.
"Your boots."
"They’ve seen more roads than most people in this town ever will."
John laughed softly.
"I guess they have."
---
The craftsman finished carving the bird and handed it to a little girl waiting patiently beside him.
She smiled brightly.
"Thank you, Grandpa!"
She hugged him before running off.
The old man watched her go before speaking again.
"You’ve got kind eyes."
John looked surprised.
"I do?"
"Mhm."
"I’ve met plenty of adventurers."
"Most carry tension."
"Fear."
"Regret."
He finally looked directly at John.
"You carry responsibility."
John froze for a brief moment.
Those words...
They reminded him of the World Tree.
---
Before John could respond, the old craftsman simply smiled and returned to carving another piece of wood.
The conversation ended as naturally as it had begun.
John eventually continued walking.
Yet...
The man’s words stayed with him.
---
Not far away—
Lythriel and Sylvara finally reached the front of the honey cake line.
Lythriel accepted her pastry with a triumphant grin.
"Worth it."
She took one bite.
Her eyes widened dramatically.
"...This is incredible."
Sylvara laughed.
"I told you."
Lythriel immediately bought four more.
"...For later."
"Of course."
---
As they turned to leave...
Several young women nearby began whispering.
"...Isn’t that him?"
"The dragonkin?"
"The handsome one?"
Lythriel followed their gaze.
John stood across the square talking to a group of children who wanted to see the tiny flame he could produce from his fingertip.
He wasn’t showing off.
He was simply answering their questions.
The children laughed excitedly every time the small flame changed color.
Lythriel smiled unconsciously.
"...He’s good with kids."
Sylvara nodded quietly.
"He really is."
"He doesn’t even realize everyone keeps looking at him."
"No."
Sylvara smiled warmly.
"That’s probably why."
Neither of them noticed the older woman selling flowers nearby watching their expressions with amusement.
Young hearts...
Were often easier to read than they realized.
---
Meanwhile...
John extinguished the tiny flame and waved goodbye to the children.
As he stood up—
He almost bumped into someone.
"Oh, sorry."
The young woman in front of him shook her head quickly.
"N-No..."
She hesitated before speaking again.
"Would..."
"Would you like a flower?"
John looked confused.
"A flower?"
She nervously held out a small white blossom.
"It’s... for good luck."
John accepted it politely.
"Thank you."
The young woman smiled brightly before hurrying away, her face completely red.
John stared at the flower in his hand.
"...What just happened?"
From across the square—
Lythriel watched the entire exchange.
She narrowed her eyes.
"...Seriously?"
Sylvara tried—and failed—to hide a laugh.
"I don’t think he understands."
"He absolutely doesn’t."
Lythriel sighed dramatically.
"...He’s hopeless."
The Soul Raven, perched on the roof of a nearby building, watched the scene unfold.
After several seconds...
The ancient guardian quietly muttered to itself.
"...Young dragons."
Even after living for more than ten thousand years...
Some things never changed.
---
As the festival continued into the afternoon, laughter echoed throughout Greenhollow.
For the first time since the Hidden Realm...
John simply lived in the moment.
No battles.
No ancient prophecies.
No impossible burdens.
Just friends.
Sunshine.
And a peaceful town celebrating another year together.
Sometimes...
Those ordinary days became the memories people cherished the most.
---
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