From the raised stone ledge overlooking the festival grounds, he stood alone. exactly where he preferred to be. He is wrapped in a shadow-weaver mantle, a long, layered garment that clings to his form like smoke trapped in fabric. The mantle's folds fall to his ankles, drifting silently behind him as though stirred by an unseen wind. Its surface is deep black, drinking in the moonlight instead of reflecting it.
Across his shoulders lies a high-necked dusk-guard, a piece of cloth that rises to cover the lower half of his face. It conceals his jaw and mouth completely, leaving only his eyes visible sharp, restless, and unsettlingly bright.
His hair and head are hidden beneath a close-fitted, night-wrapped hood, crafted from tightly woven fibers that stretch smoothly across his skull. It shapes to him perfectly, revealing no stray locks, no exposed skin. Only the thin slits for his eyes break the darkness of his appearance. His hands are gloved in veil-cloth, soft but strong, and marked with faint sigils that flicker when his power stirs
At his waist hangs his weapon: a folding shadow-blade, forged from an ancient metal that obeys his will. When dormant, it shrinks into a compact shard no larger than a river stone, dark and dull. But when summoned, it unfurls in a ripple of black steel lengthening, sharpening, humming with stored power until it becomes a full weapon capable of cutting through spirit and matter alike. He hadn't known it could lengthen and it had surprised him the first time.
To the crowd below, he would look like nothing more than a tall silhouette carved from the night itself.
Below him, Aru'Maya blazed to life. "The Night the Sky Listens" festival held during the appearance of the new moon. It is said to be the night when ancestors, spirits, and all living tribes breathe as one. Aru 'Maya is the one night when all tribes of the state of the united tribes of Tagayia, all ages, and all walks of life come together to celebrate unity, destiny, and the blessings of the Ancients. They come together to celebrate the first man to settle in the lands of Tasaka. His name is Taliga. They were once separated but they believe it is his wish for them to be united once again. It is a night when all of Tagayia comes together to heal old grudges, to strengthen the unity of the united tribes, bless newborns and seal the promises made during the festival
When the ash dissolves, Aru'Maya ends.
Thousands of people moved as one, their footsteps sparking lines of light across the earth. The glowing Astra Vines curled through the air like drifting constellations, dipping low to brush the heads of laughing children. Drums thundered, echoing up the cliff face first, the Shor'vak drum; echoes that sparkle mid air like laughter is the first to sound, its drummers skilled and energetic send its echoes across the valleys. It signifies the start of the celebration, followed by Tah'runi drum, each beat of the ancient drum releases floating silver rings that children chase. It is the younger kids favorite drum because they think it's made from magic. Then the third drum Vor'maka drum sounds, it is the most powerful of the three. It makes the ground vibrate with the dancers. The dance that awakens the sky each beat pushing against his chest like a tide. The three festival drums take on festive rhythms sounding as one.
"Aru'na! Light awaken!" the youths shout with myrrh.
As the festival begins, hundreds of youths rush into the Great Circle to perform the Ritu'Kana: a dance of a thousand stumps. Drums thunder, shaking the very foundation of the earth. Growing patterns glow beneath their feet a reflection of the fire from their anklets. Their footsteps leave trails of light behind and their laughter is said to "to wake the ancients" Young men wear flare-ribbons attached to their wrists that burst into sparks when they clap. Young women wear sky-bells that chime with soft, celestial tones when they spin.
Sagiri inhaled slowly as he watched from his spot unmoving for hours. He stood alone on the ledge, wrapped in his shadow-weaver mantle, face hidden behind his dusk-guard, eyes glowing from beneath his night-wrapped hood. The Oru-Seals clung to his ears, black as obsidian, their runes swallowing the roar of the festival below until only a soft hush remained.
The Oru-Seals, sacred ear-guards crafted long before memory. Each one cups his ear like a curved shell of blackened stone, fitted with impossibly delicate precision. The Oru-seals are made from quietstone; a rare mineral said to be carved from the first silence the world ever knew. The jagged runes etched along the inner curve, each symbol trembling faintly with muted power. Thin strands of shadow-metal wrap behind his ears and anchor the seals without straps or ties. When worn, they muffle the world, dimming the storm of voices, footsteps, breaths, and heartbeat-echoes that would otherwise crush him. To Sagiri, they feel like sinking into deep water heavy, still, and merciful. The Oru-Seals do not simply block sound. They drink it, swallowing excess noise before it reaches his mind. They were a gift to him from his father on his sixteenth birthday. He didn't know what lengths he had gone to acquire them but he knew it must have been hard. He had left home for months before his birthday. Back then he couldn't leave his room because of how much he was in distress. He could only feel warmth from his father and it had warmed his heart with gratitude. It was the first festival he had attended since activated the power inside him at twelve. His folding shadow-blade rested at his side, asleep in its compact form. He looked like a figure forged from silence and darkness, a watcher the world never saw but always felt.
Even from here, the weight of so many hearts, so many emotions, pressed on him like a storm. His power stirred that deep, ancient force inside him that responded to crowds, to chaos, to life. It whispered, curled, wanted to rise. He gripped the stone railing until his knuckles whitened.
"This is close enough," he murmured to himself. He hadn't noticed he had taken two steps forward involuntarily. He took three steps back and remained submerged in the dark.
Far below, the Youth Dance erupted into a wildfire of motion, the Ritu'Kana creating swirling ribbons of gold around the dancers' ankles. Families sat clustered in circles of warmth, warriors clashed in friendly tests of fire, elders blessed children with glowing dust.
He watched it all with a strange ache of admiration, longing, and distance woven together. He had always been the outsider. The observer. The one who could not stand in the center of the light. No matter how much his parents loved him, he always felt deep emptiness inside as if something big was missing from his life. Even so he could still honour the night.
As the midnight drums struck, the sky cracked open, revealing the first appearance of the crescent moon. A roar rose from the crowd as thousands of Felxi Stones lifted into the air, streaking into the heavens like reverse falling stars. As it is custom, at midnight, everyone releases their Felxi Stones (wish stones), which streak into the sky. Felxi stones are light stones made of clay like matter, when mixed with the shy flower portions however they become buoyant and when they are thrown into the sky then burst releasing purple sparkling water It explodes into waves of shimmering light like a living aurora.
People dance beneath it until dawn.`
Sagiri reached into his cloak to retrieve the small object. His own stone darker than the others, heavier in his palm pulsed as if recognizing the moment. No cheering voices surrounded him, no circle of family, no warm hands to hold. Only silence. Only wind.
He raised the Felxi Stone to the sky. Its inner galaxies swirled slowly, casting dim glimmers across his face.
"What do I even wish for?" he whispered. For power? For peace? For control? For a destiny that didn't frighten him?
None of those felt right. His desire was something deeper. Something he knew he might never have. So he took a breath, closed his eyes, and let the truth rise.
"I wish… I wish to stand among them one day. Without fear. Without harming anyone. Just… to belong."
He opened his hand. The stone rose, hesitating, as though weighing the sincerity of his heart ,before bursting into the air in a streak of deep violet and silver. It vanished into the light of the appearing moon with a shudder of light.
Below, the crowd shouted with joy at the beauty of the sky. They held onto each other tightly, heads lifted. He just watched quietly, expression unreadable. But for the first time in a long time… hope flickered in his chest. A small, stubborn flame. Just enough to keep him watching the world he longed to join.