The Harvest Festival Begins
The air over the city of Alexia was charged with an electric sense of anticipation. George, Nana, and Kayn stood side by side, their gazes fixed upon the colossal statue of Augustine Maximillian, the founder of the Larrisan Empire. The stone figure loomed over them like a silent, unyielding guardian, its etched eyes seemingly judging the worth of every student who passed beneath its shadow. George, now twelve years old, felt the subtle weight of his growth. His pale blond hair was as unruly as ever, caught in the tug of a sudden gust of wind, but his posture held a new, tempered seriousness. Beside him, Nana stood with her characteristic poise, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon, while Kayn remained a steady, solid presence. Each of them felt a mixture of excitement and nerves; the memories of the East Blue Laboratory and the chilling porcelain masks of the Coffin Gang were etched into their minds, serving as the fuel for the fire that now burned in their spirits. The wind howled softly, carrying a whisper of destiny that seemed to vibrate in their very bones.
George adjusted his crisp, dark uniform—still smelling of fresh starch—and declared, "Today is the day we become heroes. Today, Kayn, is the day you restore your family's honor. Today, we move forward."
Nana's smile held a hint of fierce determination. She adjusted her layered robes, her voice acting as the anchor for the trio. "No matter what happens, we stick together. That's our only way of survival," she vowed.
Kayn, looking at his friends with a sense of unwavering solidarity, added, "There's strength in numbers."
With a shared nod, they set off towards The Factory. Their boots echoed with a rhythmic, purposeful strike against the ancient stone masonry. Upon entering the grand structure, a loud, vibratory ring hummed to life through their Tele-stone rings. The mystical artifacts, bestowed upon them by the enigmatic Professor Log Crane, pulsed with a violet light—a reminder of the aura flow they had spent so many grueling hours learning to regulate under Professor Zorro Diego. The trio hurried to their seats in the massive auditorium, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. The buzz of anticipation electrified the air, thick enough to taste. Tributes from all over the world filled the seats around them, their colorful garb a patchwork of different cultures and traditions, all united by the weight of the impending trials. George couldn't help but marvel at the epitome of grandeur that was the auditorium. The walls were an opulent display of shimmering gemstones and ancient tapestries woven with the forgotten stories of the Magi. Torches flickered in their brackets, casting a warm, dancing light that played upon the expectant faces of the young mages. Above them, the ceiling was bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of countless crystal chandeliers that dangled like shimmering stars, surrounded by intricate carvings of magic symbols. On the stage, curtains that shimmered like rippling grain fields in the morning sun swayed gently. A beautiful and intricately carved podium stood at the center, a masterpiece of craftsmanship that mesmerized even the most blasé onlookers. The chatter died instantly as Grandmaster Orion Gold-crest stepped into the light. He was a tall figure of absolute authority, cloaked in robes that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly radiance. His regal air and effervescence commanded the room's total attention; his golden robes trailed behind him like wheat caught in a summer wind as he reached the podium. He looked out over the sea of faces, his gaze lingering on the hopeful and the terrified alike. When he began to address the onlookers, introducing the impending Harvest Festival trials, his voice boomed with a harmonious blend of authority and reassurance. It was a sound that echoed through the vast space and sent a collective shiver down the spines of the assembled tributes, signaling that their childhood ended here, and their legend began now.