In one of the sprawling social halls, Raveena lingered by Professor Vask’s side with a glass of orange juice in hand. The professor was happily engrossed in conversation with a pair of old colleagues.

Raveena, meanwhile, stood as still as she could manage. Her amber eyes drifted over the glittering chandeliers and the clusters of guests laughing over small talk.

“Feels different now… like everyone’s waiting for something.”

Raveena tipped back the last of her drink, yet still she found herself still oddly thirsty. With a small sigh, she took a step closer to Professor Vask. “Professor,” she said lowly. “Can I excuse myself?”

Professor Vask looked at her, brows raised. “Why? What is it?”

Raveena lifted the empty glass wordlessly in answer.

Professor Vask let out a chuckle, shaking her head. “Oh, of course. Go on. I’ll be here for a bit,” she smiled. “Go and relax by the bar while you wait.”

Raveena gave a nod. “Alright.”

With that, Raveena made her way to the nearby bar within the hall, setting her empty glass down against the smooth counter before sliding onto one of the stools. She rested her elbows lightly on the counter, eyes wandering over the bottles stacked neatly on the shelves, until the bartender finally noticed her.

The moose-folk leaned forward with a genial smile. “Evenin’, miss. What’ll it be? We’ve got a fine selection of wines, ales, brandies, name your poison.”

Raveena shook her head. “No alcohol, please. Just orange juice is fine. I… can’t drink.”

For a heartbeat, the bartender looked a bit surprised by her order. Then, he let out a low chuckle. “Well now, that’s a surprise. No trouble, though,” he said as he lifted her empty glass and set it aside. “If you’d like, I can make you a mix. Something a little different from plain juice. We’ve got blends that go down easy.”

Raveena tilted her head slightly. “Juice… mixes? You serve those here too?”

“Of course,” the moose-folk replied with a wink. “Not everyone’s here for the strong stuff.”

Raveena looked at the glass in her hands, faintly amused. “I had no idea. Vask was the one who handed me that orange juice earlier… I just assumed that was all they had.”

Raveena gave the bartender a small smile. “Surprise me, then.”

The bartender chuckled, giving her a nod. “You got it. I’ll be back with something worth your while,” and with that, he moved down the counter to tend to another order.

Left alone, Raveena sat still, fingers idly tapping against the counter. Despite being a student, the formal clothes really made sure that she would… not quite look like one. Especially since the hall around her was filled with silks and polished shoes, matched with expensive-sounding conversations between groups of animal-folk who all looked like they truly belonged.

Some faces seemed young, but she knew better. Animal-folk often aged differently, their features stubbornly holding youth long after the years had passed.

“Hard to even guess who’s twenty and who’s fifty in this crowd…”

She sighed lightly. At least she didn’t look out of place. If anything, and she couldn’t help but think of it; the one who would look out of place here was…

Aya.

She imagined the rabbit-folk plopped on the stool beside her, clutching a drink like it was contraband. Raveena almost chuckled at the thought.

“I’d look more like her chaperone than someone sharing a drink with her.”

Her mind added another flourish to her imagination, Aya nibbling through half the bar snacks in the time it would take her to sip twice.

Eventually, the bartender returned with a small tray of bottles and citrus already in his wide hands. He set them down, pulling a pair of mixing shakers from beneath the counter. With an easy smile, he began his work. The juice poured in arcs; ice began tumbling around satisfyingly as the shakers rattled in his grip like a drumbeat.

As he worked, he looked up at her. “Care for a fun fact while you wait?”

Raveena gave a small shrug. “Sure.”

The moose-folk grinned, twisting a slice of lemon peel before flicking it neatly into the shaker. “Since this year’s Concorde Summit is all about history and unity, here’s a question for you. Do you know who was the most prominent Saint to serve the Wonderforest during the Age of Fracture?”

Raveena didn’t have to think long. “That would be Saint Maribelle Cecilia… right?”

“Correct. Now then… do you happen to know who came before Saint Maribelle?”

“I’m afraid not. I only knew the line of Saints up to Saint Maribelle.”

“That’s perfectly all right,” the bartender said warmly, shaking the tin with a rhythm before setting it down.

“So… who was it?”

“Saint Grimsfrey De Vain,” he answered. “Also known as Grimsfrey the Black, the eighteenth Saint of the Wonderforest. He came before Saint Maribelle, lived up to the age of a hundred and twenty-two, and surprisingly enough, he’s the one credited with inventing the recipe for this very juice mix.”

“Huh, that’s something,” Raveena said.

The moose-folk chuckled, straining the mix into a tall glass, and Raveena watched as its colors separated into faint layers of gold and red.

“Aye. Despite the tension of his time, the Wonderforest nearly torn apart by a neighbor’s war, Saint Grimsfrey found a way to make something heartwarming. Legend has it, he loved drinking himself, but since he could purify alcohol in his body, he never felt the effects. So, he created a recipe to share the ‘joy of drinking’ with the young and underaged, something that mimicked the feel of a fine cocktail without the spirits.”

With a final flourish, he slid the glass toward her. Inside swirled a mix of orange juice, apple cordial, crushed strawberries, and a spritz of sparkling water, topped with a twist of citrus and a berry on the rim.

Then the bartender smiled. “We call it the Saintly Spark. It’s sweet, and tastes a little playful… just enough to make you feel like you’re part of the celebration. Enjoy.”

Raveena wrapped her fingers around the cool glass and lifted it. “Saintly Spark, huh.”

She brought it to her lips and took a cautious sip. And immediately, the flavor bloomed on her tongue. There was a bright citrusy taste with a mellow sweetness beneath, followed by the taste of berry at the edges. It was unmistakably juice, yet… there was something different in the way the taste lingered, and it had a faint burnless bite at the back of her throat.

“I’ve never had alcohol before… but this does feel different somehow.”

Lowering the glass, she gave a small nod. “It’s… delicious.”

The moose-folk beamed, clearly delighted. “Glad to hear it. Makes all the shaking worth it.”

She took another sip, letting her shoulders ease just a fraction.

“What’s this, Burton? Giving history lessons again?” Then came another voice from behind her.

The bartender chuckled, inclining his head. “Ah, young master. A delight to see you back. Still making time for your favorite pastime, I see?”

“Of course,” the voice replied smoothly. “Wouldn’t miss a chance to drink when I can steal one.”

Raveena’s ears twitched at the sound, tail stiffening. Her curiosity prickling, she peeked to her side as the stool beside hers shifted. A figure settled into it, one that wore a silver and white robe gleaming with orange accents under the chandelier lights.

Her eyes followed the patterns upward, and there she saw a pair of wolfish ears, and looking down, she spotted a foxlike tail. This animal-folk had the easy poise of someone far too sure of himself.

That’s when Raveena remembered that evening she met this person.

“What was his name again?”