Belly filled, InuShin observed the S?lvcù interact with one another. Syelira disappeared to prepare for this month’s special performance. Her first time.

  His body began to sway to the music. Fluid. Undulating.

  Standing drums pulsed through him like a heartbeat. Bone flutes hummed, liberating his senses. The fiddle sang to him like a lullaby. It felt like, for the first time, his heart was in sync with the S?lvcù.

  The Moon Festival wasn’t just a celebration of the new cycle, it was a celebration of each other.

  Everyone is equal here. No one soul is above the other. Warmth filled him with admiration. No hierarchy. No looking down on someone. Treating each other with respect. Honor. Like a close family.

  S?lvcù of all ages carried bowls of food from the communal tables. Instruments moved from hand to hand as each player took over when a performer grew tired.

  Their song and dance felt as they rehearsed for weeks, maybe months. But in reality, they were in sync with each other. Picking up on each others’ energy. Body language. The lyrics, a call and response about their daily life activities, bringing life to even the most mundane part.

  InuShin lingered on the edge for a moment longer. Uncertain if he could match their rhythm.

  A yelp in surprise.

  A group of S?lvcù pulled him into the circle, surrounding him as their hands clapped in flow with the steady beat.

  “I can’t dance.” He cried out.

  A teenager, laughing, demonstrated a simple step to match the motion of the dancers. Effortless. “Move your feet like this.”

  InuShin mirrored the steps, stumbling at first, until their laughter fell in unison. Embracing the moment, flaws and all.

  “You’re getting the hang of it,” another teenager complimented, their movements different but still in rhythm.

  Smiling warmly, he allowed himself to be free. To move without thinking. To make room for mistakes. Laughing as heat rushed to his cheeks, a lightness in his chest.

  Children darted between adults, weaving through legs with laughter as clear as windchimes. Some of them carried ribbons. Others held onto food.

  Even the ones who arrived exhausted from long days in the forest smiled as they passed food and drink for their neighbors. Every motion, every word, wrapped in care.

  An unspoken rule lingered. Whether through music, food, stories, or play, every one had a place in the circle. Not just a festival, but a living reminder of what it meant to belong. That just because you existed, it was enough.

  As the night deepened and the stars twinkled within the moonless sky, the music softened into a pause. An intentional hush, like the world was waiting.

  Everyone took their place on the edge of the circle, some sat on benches. Others on the ground, cross-legged. InuShin sat in seiza, hands resting in his lap.

  In the center, several S?lvcù took their positions. Their posture graceful, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Dance of Ribbons, one of the oldest festival traditions, a story passed down not with words, but through body and movement.

  A story of the war between the races.

  The drums carried a quieted tempo, like a calm heartbeat. Flutes, soft, lingering notes that floated like a mist. A resonant hum from the fiddle filled the space in between, weaving together sound and silence.

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  Lined up, ten S?lvcù side by side. Five adults and five teenagers. Each holding a lengthy silk ribbon. Each of them carried a crimson ribbon in their hand. With a different colored ribbon wrapped around their ankles and wrists.

  Crimson represented struggle and sacrifice. Emerald spoke of growth and the bonds of kinship. Gold reflected triumph and joy. InuShin reminded himself. White carried the essence of memory and the ancestors who watched over them. Sapphire embodied mourning and sorrow.

  Dressed in their traditional garb, each one adorned accessories. A semi-sheer, diagonal sash or moonlit silver, twilight blue, or soft water-green. Bound to their wrists and ankles, small streams of different colored ribbons, each one embellished with different styles of makeup.

  Gaze falling on Syelira, his heartbeat quickened as a lump formed in his throat. She’s really gorgeous.

  Off-center, she stood, a shimmering pigment of iridescent green accentuated her eyes in the luminous lantern glow. Along her cheekbones, little specs of silver twinkled, resembling the constellations. Her lips, coated in a soft berry red, held a small, warm smile.

  The dancers crouched to one knee, head bowed, and they lightly shook the ribbons, creating small rippling waves.

  As the observers bowed their heads in a moment of respect for the fallen. The musicians rested in silence with them.

  The drums filled the space first, slow and deep. Resonant. InuShin’s heart pounded in synchronicity, as the weight of battle passed through him.

  The dancers moved with perfect grace. Some crimson ribbons snapped in the air like blades. Others flicked like streams of blood. Their movements painted the chaos of war. Sharp. Intense.

  The pain of battle flowed through him, the constant clash of weapons and bloodshed. So many years. So many lives lost.

  Each dancer froze, ribbons stretched taut, faces solemn.

  Once by one, they released their hold on the crimson ribbon, letting them trickle to the ground. The last bit of blood spilled.

  From their wrist, the performers drew forth the sapphire ribbon. The color of mourning and sorrow. The bone flute brought in a haunting tune, mixed with a low hum of the fiddle and gentle patter on the drums.

  A shiver ran through his body as his hair stood on end.

  Spread out into a wide circle, their steps slow and deliberate. Nearly silent. Their arms raised high above their head as they carried the weight of loss on them. They wove around one another without touching, creating an ever-shifting spiral that never closed.

  Movement, no longer wild, but restrained, as if they were scared. Scared to reach out to the other races. Scared to cause another war.

  A grief he understood, remembering his father. What if Dad is no longer alive? His chest tightened as he fought the tears, steeling his nerves.

  As the performers rejoined in the middle, they held the sapphire ribbons high, letting them collapse to the ground like tears and pooling into a small puddle on top of the crimson.

  Unfurling the emerald ribbons from their other wrist, the drums softened into the background, maintaining a light and steady rhythm as the flutes took the lead and a harp joined. Hopeful and uplifting.

  One by one, the bright green thread shimmered in the lantern light.

  Gradually, the dance shifted. The ribbons twined together briefly before retreating, as if testing trust yet not binding fully.

  They want to reconnect, but are still hesitant.

  Through slow and graceful steps, the dancers formed a wide ring around the circle, ribbons raised high and pointing outwards.

  As the green ribbons cascaded towards the ground, each performer bent forward and retrieved the gold ribbon from their ankle.

  Taking leadership, the flute brought a lightness to the space. The harp carried a magical energy with it. Drums fading to silence.

  This time, the dancers worked together, twirling themselves and their ribbons around one another. Circles. Forming unison. Unrushed, unhurried, each performer worked in sync, displaying teamwork and harmony.

  The different races made a pact to work together. To set their differences aside. A warmth filled his chest.

  Gently laying the golden ribbon on the ground, forming a circle around them. Connection. Each performer unraveled the final ribbon from their ankle. White.

  A sole flute and fiddle took a plaintive melody. The drums echoed softly, like a steady heartbeat. Their movements began slowly, heads lowered as they honored the fallen. The tail end of the ribbons trailed along the ground.

  As the tempo gradually rose, the harp, chimes, and soft chanting from the audience joined, the ribbons lifted towards the sky, intertwining in a spiral and arcs, weaving together.

  Gone, but not forgotten.

  At the center, the performers stretched the ribbons outward, forming a radiant web of white, a visual embodiment of unity across all races.

  Turning around to face the audience, they joined hands and bowed. Everyone clapped in unison, others whistled, and drummers rolled in sync.

  As the celebration calmed, the instruments silenced except for the standing drum. It maintained a slow, but constant rhythm.

  Dum-tak-dum Dum-tak-dum

  One by one, the dancers approached an audience member and presented them a gift. A bracelet. A symbol. You matter. You belong. You are part of this harmony.

  Slowly approaching, Syelira stepped towards InuShin and knelt before him, in seiza, presenting the bracelet. A band of threaded metal and blue silk. A blue gemstone nestled within.

  A heat rushed through him as his stomach churned with butterflies.

  “Can I touch you?” She offered the bracelet.

  “Yes.” He extended his arm.

  Carefully, she wrapped the bracelet around his wrist, tying it. Her light touch barely grazing his skin. Once finished, she bowed to him, hands on the ground before her.

  InuShin mirrored her.

  The S?lvcù cheered as the celebration came to an end. Rapid, single notes filled the circle as the musicians joined.

  Returning to their feet, Syelira stood before him, a light blush on her cheeks. “Is it okay to hug?”

  Hesitating for a short moment, InuShin nodded.

  Embracing one another in a warm, comforting hug, InuShin noticed his mother talking to the Elders. Concern riddled her face.