By the time the sun disappeared completely behind the hills, the Silver Rose Lake was already glowing with lanterns.
Luciana stood at the edge of the village path, staring at the scene in front of her.
Blankets had been spread across the grass.
Several wooden tables had been carried down from the village.
Baskets of food were everywhere.
Lanterns hung from the nearby trees, their warm light swaying gently whenever the breeze passed.
And the villagers…
There were far more of them than Luciana had expected.
She slowly turned toward Grandma Martha.
“You said mini picnic.”
Grandma Martha looked innocent.
“It is a mini picnic.”
Luciana pointed toward the crowd.
“There are half the villagers here!”
“That’s still less than everyone.”
“Grandma!”
Grandma Martha laughed.
“You’re leaving tomorrow.
Did you really think we’d let you spend your last night alone?”
Luciana opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
She didn’t have an answer.
Her smile slowly appeared.
“…No.”
“Good.”
Grandma Martha handed her a basket.
“Carry this.”
Luciana looked inside.
Croissants.
She immediately hugged the basket.
“My precious.”
Grandma Martha rolled her eyes.
“Food is more precious than people now?”
“Tonight, yes.”
Someone nearby overheard her.
“She’s going to miss us terribly.”
“I heard that!”
The villagers burst into laughter.
Luciana laughed too.
The heaviness that had followed her throughout the day seemed to disappear.
Tonight wasn’t about leaving.
Tonight was about staying.
Just one more night.
The children were the first to reach the lake.
They ran across the grass, chasing one another between the blankets while the adults shouted warnings that nobody listened to.
Luciana sat near the water with a plate balanced on her knees.
She had already eaten enough for two people.
She knew this.
She continued eating anyway.
A young boy sat beside her.
“Luciana.”
“Hm?”
“Are you really leaving tomorrow?”
She paused.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to see the world.”
“Is the world prettier than here?”
Luciana looked around.
The village lights.
The lake.
The silver roses.
The people laughing behind her.
She smiled.
“Maybe.”
The boy frowned.
“Then why are you smiling?”
Luciana thought about it.
“Because I can see beautiful things somewhere else and still remember beautiful things here.”
The boy seemed to consider this very seriously.
Then he nodded.
“Can you bring me something?”
“Of course.”
“A dragon.”
Luciana nearly choked.
“Why does everyone want dragons?”
The boy grinned.
“Because they’re cool.”
“Fine.
If I find one that fits inside my bag, I’ll bring it back.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
From behind them, someone shouted.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!”
Luciana shouted back.
“I know!”
The boy looked delighted.
“I’m getting a dragon!”
Luciana laughed.
As the evening deepened, more food appeared.
Nobody seemed to know where it was coming from.
Every time Luciana thought the meal was finished, someone arrived with another dish.
Grilled meat.
Roasted vegetables.
Fresh bread.
Sweet cakes.
Fruit.
Warm soup.
And, of course, Grandma Martha’s croissants.
Luciana looked at the growing pile.
“Are we feeding the entire kingdom?”
“No,” Grandma Martha said.
“We’re feeding you.”
Luciana stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because you eat like you’ve been starving for seventeen years.”
“I do not!”
Grandma Martha raised an eyebrow.
Luciana quietly reached for another croissant.
The villagers laughed.
“Traitor,” Luciana muttered.
“Hungry traitor,” Grandma Martha corrected.
After dinner, the villagers began telling stories.
Some were old stories.
Some were embarrassing stories.
And some were stories Luciana had heard at least twenty times.
But she listened anyway.
An old fisherman told everyone about the time he had fallen into the lake while trying to impress a girl.
The girl he had been trying to impress was sitting beside him.
She immediately corrected his version of events.
“You didn’t fall.”
“I slipped.”
“You fell.”
“I slipped gracefully.”
“You screamed.”
The entire village exploded with laughter.
Luciana laughed so hard that tears appeared in her eyes.
The old fisherman looked offended.
“I was attacked by a fish.”
“It was a small fish.”
“It was aggressive!”
Luciana wiped her eyes.
“I can’t believe I’ve lived here this long and never heard this story.”
“You were five when it happened.”
“That explains everything.”
Later, someone brought out a small musical instrument.
A gentle melody drifted across the lake.
The children slowly became quieter.
The adults settled onto the blankets.
Luciana leaned back, resting on her hands.
Above them, the moon had risen.
And then…
The silver roses began to bloom.
One by one.
The flowers opened along the lake.
Silver petals reflected the moonlight.
The entire lakeshore slowly transformed.
Luciana’s eyes widened.
Even though she had seen them bloom earlier that day, seeing them at night was completely different.
This was what she remembered.
This was the Silver Rose Lake she loved.
The roses seemed to glow beneath the moon, their reflections stretching across the dark water.
Someone beside Luciana whispered,
“Beautiful.”
Luciana nodded.
“Very.”
Grandma Martha sat beside her.
“You wanted to see this before leaving, didn’t you?”
Luciana smiled.
“Yes.”
She touched the silver rose still tucked beside her ear.
“I think I’ll remember it forever.”
Grandma Martha looked at her.
“You’d better.”
“I will.”
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The music continued.
The breeze moved softly through the trees.
The lake shimmered.
The villagers talked quietly around them.
Luciana felt something warm settle inside her chest.
Home.
That was what this place was.
Not the buildings.
Not the lake.
Not even the roses.
The people.
The people who had raised her.
The people who had fed her.
The people who had watched her grow.
The people who were now trying very hard not to look sad because she was leaving.
Luciana swallowed.
“Grandma?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.”
Grandma Martha glanced at her.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
The older woman smiled.
“You’ll have to be more specific.
I’m old.
I forget things.”
Luciana laughed softly.
“For raising me.”
Grandma Martha’s expression softened.
“You were never something we had to raise.”
She gently touched Luciana’s hair.
“You were simply one of ours.”
Luciana looked down.
Her eyes became slightly wet.
“Oh no.”
Grandma Martha sighed.
“Don’t start crying.”
“I wasn’t!”
“You’re already making that face.”
“What face?”
“The face you make before crying.”
Luciana wiped her eyes quickly.
“It’s the wind.”
“The wind?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
Grandma Martha smiled.
“Very strong wind.”
Luciana laughed through the tears.
Later that night, everyone gathered closer to the water.
Someone suggested making wishes.
The children immediately became excited.
Luciana smiled.
“You’re copying me.”
A little girl shook her head.
“No.
We always make wishes at the lake.”
Luciana blinked.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“What do you wish for?”
The girl thought carefully.
“A puppy.”
Luciana nodded solemnly.
“Excellent wish.”
Another child wished for a new toy.
Someone wished for good harvests.
Someone else wished for good health.
The wishes were simple.
Ordinary.
Human.
Luciana listened to each one.
Then someone turned toward her.
“What about you?”
She blinked.
“Me?”
“Your birthday is tomorrow.”
Everyone looked at her.
Luciana suddenly felt embarrassed.
“I already made my wishes.”
“What did you wish for?”
She hesitated.
Then counted them on her fingers.
“For the rain to stay away tomorrow.”
The villagers nodded.
“That worked.”
Luciana frowned.
“Don’t remind me.”
“For more silver roses.”
Everyone looked toward the lake.
“That definitely worked.”
Luciana scratched her cheek.
“And…
I wished tomorrow would be the most beautiful birthday ever.”
Grandma Martha smiled.
“I think that one will come true too.”
Luciana looked at the silver roses.
Her smile softened.
“Maybe.”
A breeze passed across the lake.
The roses moved together.
For one strange moment, the silver flowers seemed to lean toward her.
Luciana blinked.
Then the moment was gone.
She smiled and shook her head.
“I’m probably imagining things.”
She leaned backward again.
Above her, the moon shone brightly.
Tomorrow…
She would turn eighteen.
Tomorrow…
She would leave.
But tonight, surrounded by the people who had been her family, beneath the silver roses she had loved since childhood…
Luciana felt completely happy.
Far beyond the lantern light, among the trees, Raizen remained silent.
He had watched Luciana laugh.
He had watched her eat.
He had watched the villagers tease her.
He had watched her almost cry.
He had watched the silver roses respond to her presence.
But this…
This was the sight he had waited a thousand years to see.
Not the goddess.
Not the power.
Not the soul he had once known.
Just Luciana.
Happy.
Safe.
Surrounded by people who loved her.
Raizen lowered his gaze.
For the first time in a very long time, the loneliness of the past seemed slightly less heavy.
Then one silver rose near the edge of the lake opened brighter than the others.
Raizen’s eyes shifted toward it.
His expression became serious again.
The awakening was continuing.
And tomorrow…
She would turn eighteen.
Raizen looked back at Luciana.
He would wait.
Just as he had always waited.
But this time, he would not lose her.
Not again.