That’s when he spotted them. Mireille laughed, her bright feathers flashing, dangling shiny berries near a young dragon - showing it how to thread them over stacked dwarf helmets. On a mound of silver, Atlas posed like he owned the scene, waving an old red-scaled beast into place so the Solstice Star hung just right above their biggest treasure pile. The weak light made his bones glow softly, giving him a proud look, even though nobody picked him for that job. Eryx’s anger turned sharp, icy - like someone had slammed a knife right into his back. A flash burst from him, lighting up the huge cave just like dawn cracking open after dark. “Mireille! Atlas!" His tone - normally soft - snapped like thunder, bouncing off the cave walls. They both stopped dead, spinning around together. Mireille’s gaze - normally full of tricks - jolted wide for a split second, then tightened with stubbornness. Atlas just rolled his breath out loud, like a showy huff. “Seriously?” he muttered under his breath. “It’s Eryx. Could’ve at least let us finish hanging things up, sweetie?” Eryx landed before them, his hooves thudding on the stone floor. "Decorating? You call this 'decorating'? You've stolen every symbol of light and hope from Veilheim! My own brother is down there, trying to conjure starlight from thin air while you aid these overgrown lizards!" Mireille took a step forward, her expression unrepentant. "It's just a bit of fun, Eryx. And honestly, the dragons wanted them. They have so many treasures, but nothing so… festive." Her arcane energy pulsed, a subtle shield. "Wanted them?" Eryx scoffed, his light element gathering, making his feathered wings glow. "They're hoarding them! And you two, of all Veilhorns, helped them! What were you promised? A handful of trinkets? The thrill of petty theft?" Right when Mireille or Atlas was about to speak, a deep growl shook the cave walls. From heaps of treasure rose an ancient dragon - huge, rough-scaled, like cooled lava - and it glared at them with greedy, angry eyes. Others nearby started waking up too, bothered by the strangers; hulking bodies shifting, throwing jagged silhouettes across stone. “Intruder,” the old dragon growled, sounding like rocks crunching together. “You mess up what we’ve gathered here - got no right” Eryx bristled, his gaze fixed on Mireille and Atlas. "You two are truly beyond saving. Give them back. Now." Atlas grinned, moving ahead, a flicker of fire lighting up his gaze. "Quit acting like it's the end of the world, Eryx - they’re better off right here. Still," he waved wide at the shiny pile around them, "these things bring serious flair." “This ain't about looks, Atlas - this is straight-up wrong!" Eryx barked, losing his cool. A sharp burst of white light shot out from him, not toward the beasts, but at the stacked ornaments instead. That quick flare stunned the huge dragons, making them flinch and snarl as they shut their eyes tight. Mireille moved fast - her magic spiraling into shadowy threads, curling through chunks of the treasure, shielding trinkets from Eryx’s glow. “Ours!” she snapped, a playful tone now sharp with resistance. Atlas shot out a flash of fire, hurling hot air at Eryx - not to harm, just to warn. "You’re gonna wreck it all!" Eryx jumped back from the flames - light spun around him like a shield. Though alone against many, he didn't hesitate one bit. Instead of going after Mireille or Atlas, he shot toward key parts of the Solstice rite. With focus sharp as stone, his glow thickened into a web made of pure force, racing to grab the bright Orb of Endless Glow, the shimmering Solstice Star, along with several threads of vivid ribbons pulsing with raw delight. The dragons shook off their daze, then let out a roar. Hot, sharp fumes filled the cave as they moved closer. Mireille sent twisting energy strands to trap his glowing figure, yet Atlas fired more flames at once. Eryx strained, muscles on fire. With grit, he poured his inner glow into the pull - no mind for the blaze or fangs clicking near, nothing of those dark spells creeping close. A throb came from the Solstice Star as it slipped into his web of radiance, then the Orb arrived, humming warmth, along with glowing strands drifting in like slow sparks. Not all was saved - not even close - but what landed in his hold? Solid ground. Just right to wake the core of Veilheim’s soul once more. With one last frantic push, Eryx spun a flash of bright light around him - just enough to make the dragons flinch, making Mireille and Atlas blink hard. Up he darted through the cave’s mouth, grabbing tight to the shimmering loot bundled in his web of light. He kept moving forward. Mireille with Atlas, stuck among furious dragons and loot that hadn’t been returned, could wait till later. Right now, getting to Veilheim mattered most. Eryx pushed forward into the freezing air, the rescued ornaments glowing gently - steady pulses cutting through dark. He’d taken hits, his wings sore from strain, yet pride flared deep inside. He stepped down into a quiet Veilheim. Harvey’s and Severyn’s makeshift lamps flickered - soft, plain, yet striking in how bare they looked. Yet when Eryx touched ground, the Solstice Star inside his net lit up fierce, pouring golden brightness across the streets. The Orb of Constant Glow throbbed stronger now, heat rippling out, pushing back the cold. Harvey spotted him right away, eyes going wide. "Eryx - hey - you actually pulled it off!" Severyn sucked in a breath - her illusion magic sparking alive with surprise. Around them, the Veilhorns shifted, expressions crawling out of sorrow into wide-eyed amazement, finally melting into deep, shaky gratitude. The Solstice Star went up on the tallest pine, its glow blending through Harvey's icy shapes while Severyn’s frost flowers shimmered nearby. Inside, the Orb of Lasting Glow sat back on its stand - heat spreading slow, touching everyone around. Old ribbons tied into fresh fragile pieces, holding them steady, making them real. Not each trinket, not every bulb lit up. Yet the dragons keep brimming with heaps of plundered gold. Still, what remained worked fine. Way beyond just okay. That evening’s solstice fest felt nothing like before. Less polished, deeper somehow - stitched through with grief but also grit. The laugh, once it arrived, ran richer - songs carried more soul. Magic today? Filled with the mood of people who saw hard times but kept glowing anyway. Up in the shadowy shape of the dragon fortress, way above Veilheim, Mireille and Atlas stayed quiet, lit by shimmering bits taken from a hundred trinkets. Instead of speaking, Atlas softly sang while fixing a ring of pilfered winter chimes onto a stone beast’s skull. Down below, lights sparkled across the town; Mireille stared without blinking, her look hard to pin down. Might’ve been guilt - or maybe just pride, seeing how she kept that sly grin. Like someone already cooking up trouble twice as bold. Sure, the festival got rescued this time, yet stories about those hungry scaled beasts - and the rebels who backed them - weren’t anywhere near finished.