The party hall was a magnificent spectacle of opulence and artistry. As I entered with Diana, my senses were overwhelmed by the sheer beauty and grandeur that greeted me. It was way different, and much more beautiful than the decorations that had been put in play for my sendforth then. This screamed of a royalty ball.
The walls were draped in luxurious fabrics in deep, rich hues of crimson and gold, reminiscent of a royal palace. Crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling, casting a soft, warm glow that bathed the room in a gentle, ethereal light.
From beside me, I heard Diana gasp.
Quite understandable. This was a beauty to behold.
I was very sure that the king had put so much effort in this to play a show off to the magic Queen.
Every corner of the hall was meticulously decorated with attention to detail. Elaborate floral arrangements graced every table, featuring an assortment of roses, lilies, and orchids. Their fragrance wafted through the air, creating a sweet and intoxicating atmosphere.
Tall candelabras stood proudly, their flickering candles casting elongated shadows on the walls. The dance floor, a shining expanse of polished marble, reflected the lights and the people who twirled and swayed upon it.
I could see now why some attendees, human-at least the ones that had met me and Diana-had collected our overnight bags, promising to deposit them at the places that have been prepared for us, the visitors. If we had come into this hall with our bags, it would have been comical.
The guests especially were a sight to behold, elegantly dressed in a myriad of masks and gowns. Some of course didn’t wear masks, especially the werewolves. Egotistical beings, as always. But I couldn’t help but marvel at the artistry and creativity of their outfits.
Now, some of the fellows who had come with me from my community also brought masks. But theirs were way prettier than the average werewolf’s. The masks were like miniature masterpieces, each one unique in design and color, from delicate lace veils to ornate, feathered creations. They added an air of mystery and intrigue to the party, veiling the identities of the guests and enhancing the allure of the evening.
The gowns were nothing short of breathtaking. Women floated through the hall in an array of colors and styles, like a living tapestry of fashion. Some wore flowing, floor-length gowns with intricate beading and sequins that shimmered like stars in the night sky. Others chose sleek, form-fitting dresses that accentuated their curves and exuded timeless elegance. The men were equally dashing in their tuxedos and suits, exuding an air of sophistication and charm.
The lively chatter of the guests filled the air, mingling with the soft strains of classical music that emanated from a quartet in one corner of the room. Laughter and the clinking of glasses punctuated the conversations, as people toasted to the night’s festivities. The dance floor was a whirlwind of graceful movement, with couples waltzing and twirling in perfect harmony, their masks and gowns adding to the mystique of the evening.
As I observed the scene, I felt a sense of wonder and awe which I knew reverberated to Diana. Her mouth was still open in awe. I was not sure she had ever seen such a beautifully designed place. I hadn’t either. This was the first.
The beauty of the decorations and the liveliness of the people in the room created an atmosphere of enchantment and escape. It was a world of elegance and glamor, a world where masks hid secrets and gowns sparkled with dreams.
The party hall was like a realm where for a fleeting moment, everyone was transported to a world of magic and beauty. I was just one of many, but in that moment, I felt like a part of something extraordinary. I felt another part of my story was about to be born. Hopefully, this time around, it will be something good.
“Are we going to socialize or are we going to stand here like statues and stare at people obviously enjoying themselves?” Diana asked, a noticeable pout on her lips, a character peculiar to her.
She wasn’t even concerned that she was the youngest, the only non-teen in the party. We were beginning to garner attention for that, I think, noticing the variety of eyes that darted between Diana and me. It was really time to move.
As I moved through the opulent party hall, my hand holding Diana’s, my heart pounded with anticipation. My disguise concealed my identity, but I was still on edge, wondering how I would find my mother and Naomi in this masked sea of people.
The atmosphere in the hall was so electric. The soft strains of the quartet’s music filled the air, mingling with the lively chatter and laughter of the guests. I noticed this, whilst observing the masked revelers, their vibrant costumes and masks creating an air of intrigue and enchantment.
And then, it happened.
In the midst of the crowd, a captivating moment occurred. Time seemed to stand still as my eyes locked onto two figures who were familiar. Moreso because they weren’t wearing masks. A woman and a young girl, both huddled by the side of the wall at the left wing of the hall, not concerned about those lost in the swirl of the dance floor, their mouths moving, spurting speeches that I couldn’t hear.
The world around me faded as I watched them talk animatedly with each other. There was an inexplicable connection, an intangible thread that drew her gaze to them.
Naomi and my mother. They had gotten closer than before. My disappearance must have done that. They must have sought solace in each other’s company.
My heart ached as I watched them, wishing that I was there with them, that I was there unscathed with these bad memories, wishing that I hadn’t known Adam.
A smile touched my lips, as I watched Noami drag my mother to the dance floor. That must have been what they were discussing; convincing my mother to dance, to dance and forget her sorrows. I was more sure of my deductions when I saw the fleeting pain in her eyes before she succumbed to Noami’s quest.
Thanks Naomi. I mused, watching them move with graceful steps to the music playing. As the dance reached its crescendo, they twirled elegantly, their lush gowns catching the soft light. I was overwhelmed by a longing to reach out to them, to reveal my true identity, but I resisted. I knew that my purpose was to observe, not to disrupt this delicate moment. My mother would be okay.
The world slowly resumed its pace, the quartet’s music carried on, and the lively conversations of the guests filled the air. But for me, that moment of suspended time remained etched in my memory. I had seen them. I was sure that they were okay; I could move on to my other quest for being here.