The path to the village glowed like a river of stars.
As Lily walked between her parents, her eyes widened at the sight before her.
Lanterns hung from tree branches, cottage windows, and wooden posts along the road, their golden lights swaying gently in the night breeze. Hundreds more floated along the river below, drifting like tiny stars upon the water.
The deeper they walked into Riversville, the brighter the world became.
This year's Tel Am was grander than anything Lily had ever seen.
The village was alive.
Families filled the streets carrying offerings, flowers, and handcrafted lantern boats. The air was rich with the scents of roasted meat, melted wax, sweet rice cakes, and river mist. Everywhere she looked, warm lights flickered against smiling faces.
For a festival meant to honor the dead, it felt wonderfully full of life.
Then Lily heard the music.
At first it was distant—soft drums pulsing like a heartbeat beneath the sounds of laughter.
But as they drew closer to the center of the celebration, the music swelled into something lively and impossible to ignore.
Drums.
Flutes.
Stringed instruments singing in bright, playful harmony.
Soon they reached the village clearing.
A towering bonfire blazed at its heart, sending sparks spiraling into the dark sky. Around it, villagers danced in colorful garments, their shadows leaping across the grass in time with the music.
Lily stared, completely mesmerized.
The dancers twirled and swayed around the flames, their movements graceful and wild all at once. Firelight painted their faces gold, and the rhythm of the drums made Lily's feet itch to move.
The whole scene felt enchanted.
Joyous.
Almost dreamlike.
It was such a beautiful contrast to the reason behind Tel Am itself—the remembrance of those who had passed on.
Lucy smiled as she watched the villagers.
"I'm happy we get to celebrate this together again," she said softly, glancing at Eliot.
Eliot held Lily securely in his arms as his gaze drifted across the crowd.
His smile remained, but something thoughtful settled behind it.
"I hardly recognize anyone anymore," he admitted quietly. "It feels like our generation is slowly fading away."
The words carried a quiet sadness.
As a boy, Eliot had known every family in Riversville. The village had once been full of generations living side by side—grandparents telling stories beneath candlelight, parents working together in the fields, children running through the riverbanks until sunset.
Now many of those familiar faces were gone.
Some had died.
Others had left for the distant cities in search of fortune and opportunity.
The village still glowed with life tonight, but beneath the lantern light, Eliot could feel the slow ache of change.
He wondered how many more Tel Ams would still feel like home.
"Eliot?"
The voice cut gently through his thoughts.
Eliot turned.
For a heartbeat, surprise lit his face.
Then joy.
"Rob!"
He stepped forward and embraced his old friend tightly.
The two men laughed as they pulled apart, the warmth of years of friendship still easy between them.
"It's been far too long," Eliot said.
Rob grinned.
"I was beginning to think your merchant routes had swallowed you whole."
Lucy smiled warmly.
"It's good to see you again, Rob. Eliot's travels keep him away more often than we'd like."
Rob nodded politely, though his eyes lingered on Eliot with a strange intensity that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
Then he looked down at Lily.
"Well now," he said with a grin, "Lily has grown into such a beautiful little girl."
Lily gave a shy smile, half-hiding against Eliot's shoulder.
"We're celebrating her fifth birthday today," Eliot said proudly.
Rob's face brightened.
"Then happy birthday, little one."
Lily giggled.
The sound made the moment feel lighter again.
Rob chuckled softly. "Do you remember when we used to celebrate our birthdays together?" he asked Eliot.
Eliot laughed at once.
"How could I forget? Those were the best years."
"Back when the whole village would stay awake until sunrise," Rob added.
"And we thought we'd never grow old," Eliot replied.
For a moment, both men shared the warmth of memory.
Then Rob clapped Eliot lightly on the shoulder.
"We have a lot to catch up on," he said. "Stories from your travels deserve at least a mug of beer."
Eliot laughed.
"That they do."
Lucy smiled, watching the old friends reconnect.
Then Rob leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice.
"Have you heard about tonight's release?"
Eliot frowned. "No. What about it?"
Rob's smile turned almost secretive.
"They say more families returned to Riversville this year than ever before. Hundreds of lanterns are expected to be released into the river."
Even Lucy's eyes widened.
"Hundreds?"
Rob nodded.
"The elders say it will look as though the stars themselves have descended to the water."
Lily's imagination immediately filled with the image.
A river of stars.
A sky reflected below.
Her little hand instinctively touched the hidden shape beneath her cloak—the dragon egg still wrapped safely and secretly with her.
A strange warmth pulsed against her chest.
Soft.
Alive.
As if the egg, too, was listening.
Lucy smiled brightly.
"We have to see that."
Eliot nodded.
"We should."
Rob lifted his mug toward the glowing village around them.
"Then tonight will truly be a night to remember."
The bonfire crackled.
Music swelled.
Lanterns danced in the darkness.
And somewhere beneath the joy of the festival, something unseen began to stir.