Fifth Era

The cobbled street glistened faintly under the waning light of the late afternoon sun. Amidst the murmurs of the gathering crowd and the soft rustle of carriages, a young girl in a sun-yellow frock walked beside her mother, whose pink gown cascaded gracefully to her ankles. A wide-brimmed Victorian hat crowned her head, adorned with a cluster of rose-hued feathers, its style reminiscent of nobler times long past.

The girl, no older than twelve, looked up with furrowed brows. Her eyes, bright and curious, betrayed both innocence and the restless inquisitiveness of youth.

"Mother," she asked, her voice a delicate chime in the spring air, "what day is it today? I don't recall any festival."

There was an endearing perplexity in her tone, the kind only a child who spent more hours frolicking in gardens than reading the gazettes could possess.

Her mother, Angela, turned her head slightly, the corners of her lips lifting into a knowing smile - one filled with the softness of maternal amusement.

"Lilly, my darling," she said, her voice warm and teasing, "you're always off in your own little world. When would you ever find the time to keep up with the affairs of the Empire?"

Lilly wrinkled her nose, a puffed-up pout forming as she gave a soft, playful snort. "Hmph! I know more than you think!"

Angela laughed, the sound gentle and graceful like wind chimes swaying in a warm breeze. She reached down to brush a strand of hair from her daughter's face. "Very well, very well. But listen carefully now, like the good girl I know you can be."

She paused, letting her voice drop into a tone imbued with quiet reverence a storyteller's cadence.

"Today marks the dawn of a new age , the First Day of the Fifth Era. With the fall of the God of Darkness and the other heretical deities, King Philip III, along with the rulers of six other great nations, has declared a new beginning. From henceforth, only the Seven Orthodox Gods are to be venerated across the Empires."

She raised a gloved hand, fingers extended as she counted aloud:

"One, the God of Light, whom our own Radiant Empire reveres.

Two, the True Sun God, worshipped by the Holy Sun Empire.

Three, the Moon God, protector of the Bright Moon Empire.

Four, the God of Fire, eternal flame of the Holy Pyre Empire.

Five, the God of Water and Storms, Lord of the Storm Empire.

Six, the God of War, lionhearted patron of the Lionheart Empire.

And seven, the God of Life, guardian of the Elven Empire."

Her tone turned solemn. "All other cults, sects, and foreign pantheons are forbidden from spreading their creeds within our borders. It is a day of unity… of sanctity. And so, the cities of all seven Empires rejoice today with light, music, and grand performances."

As her mother spoke, Lilly's eyes gradually glazed over. Her posture drooped with the dull weight of ceremonial history, her mind slipping toward dreams until a single word jolted her back to life.

"Performances?"

The spark in her eyes reignited. Her steps quickened, as if driven by an invisible current of excitement.

Angela covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, watching her daughter spring to attention like a flower catching sunlight. "There it is," she said with a chuckle. "The ancient magic of the word 'show' never fails."

Lilly scowled at her mother's laughter, crossing her arms in mock indignation. Angela responded with a gentle embrace, her arms wrapping around Lilly with a fondness only years of love could forge.

"Alright, alright," she soothed. "Let's go see a show. How about a circus? Would The Brad and Berry Show be to the young lady's satisfaction?"

At once, Lilly's expression lit up with recognition. "Really?! You promise?"

Angela nodded, the light in her eyes softening. "I remember how much you adored it when you were ten. You laughed so hard I thought you might fall off your seat."

Lilly's smile widened until Angela added, "And you cried so terribly when we had to leave. I thought your father and I would drown in your tears."

Lilly's face flushed crimson, her earlier joy giving way to mock horror. "Mother!" she cried, lightly thumping Angela's arm with her fists. "You weren't supposed to bring that up!"

Angela laughed again, musical and sincere. "Alright, no more teasing. But you'll want to hurry I've heard whispers in the market. A new magician has joined the troupe. They say the last crowd nearly lost their minds watching his illusions."

Lilly's eyes gleamed with wonder. "A magician?"

Angela offered her hand, and together they stepped into the lively street, their silhouettes swallowed by the golden hue of twilight, and the promise of marvels yet unseen.