Under the Tree of Origin, now finally back to how it was—neither growing nor withering, its vast branches heavy with divine fruit and emarald leaves—the Festival of Birthright had begun again.
This time it was far grander, brighter, and more joyous than ever before.
The heavens themselves seemed to shimmer with excitement.
Celestial musicians played golden harps that spilled music like liquid light, and thousands of divine lights drifted through the air like glowing fireflies.
Stalls lined the gardens: one hosted dragons weaving ribbons of flame into the air for entertainment; another featured nymphs selling enchanted nectar that shimmered with stars; spirits of wind performed aerial dances; and mighty demons arm-wrestled in laughter while valkyries raced their spectral steeds through the skies.
Every realm—from infernal depths to heavenly peaks—had sent envoys to witness this day.
