The half-day sports meet came to a joyful close amid cheers and laughter.
Then the Spring's Beginning Feast, the final event of Spring Day, began.
The Red Tide Fief was no longer the desolate outpost it had once been.
As refugees settled there and the border stabilized, its population had surpassed three thousand.
Gathering everyone around a small clearing to share a meal, as they had in the beginning, was no longer practical.
And so the feast for the entire fief was divided into two parts.
In the central square, most of the residents sat in large groups, with fires blazing and wooden tables arranged in rows.
Hearty dishes were brought out one after another: stews and hot porridge, roast meat and bread, and even a few treats rarely seen on ordinary days.
Some people began singing, others joined in simple group dances, and children chased one another around the bonfires. Joy filled the air.
A young figure slowly made his way into the jubilant crowd.
It was Louis, the lord of the Red Tide Fief.
"Oh, it's Lord Louis!"
"Look, the lord is here!"
People rose in surprise, their faces as excited as if they had seen a god.
No, as if they had seen the sun.
They looked at him like people who had waited through a bitter night, gazing upon the first light of dawn.
That brightness, that warmth, was enough to rekindle the flames that had long gone cold in their hearts.
Louis went from table to table, leaning down to greet them.
He did not stand aloof above them, but smiled gently. "Is the food to your liking today? Have all the children had enough to eat? Did the rain a few days ago cause any trouble at the work sites?"
Even a few words,