Chapter 56: Everyone’s Year-End

As the joyful year-end approached, not just Iris and her friends but everyone else was preparing for the holidays.

Students living in the dormitories, those staying with their families—let’s take a peek at how they were spending their time.

Frieda and Emilia were busy preparing for the Golden Festival in the student dormitory.

"Do you think we have enough decorations now?"

"Yes. They look absolutely lovely."

Like Christmas, the Golden Festival involved decorating a tree—and Frieda and the others were making the ornaments by hand. No matter how prestigious the school, their budget wasn’t limitless, so handmade items were the norm whenever possible. Another purpose of this tradition was to foster camaraderie among the students.

"Emilia, you’re going home for the holidays, right?"

"Yes. Once the Golden Festival is over, I’ll return home for a while."

"Same here. Actually, I think most people leave. Hardly anyone stays."

Though the dormitories remained open during the year-end break, it was customary for most students to return to their families. In the Empire, the holidays were a precious time for family, and Arkham Academy was no exception. Unless they had special circumstances, students would go home as soon as the Golden Festival ended to spend time with their loved ones.

"My place is chaos—six siblings, a full house. Plus, my family lives out in the countryside, so they always pester me to bring back souvenirs from the capital. Just getting home is a whole ordeal."

"Hehe. I admit, I’m a little envious of big families like yours."

"Trust me, it’s just noisy. Really."

Emilia knew full well that despite Frieda’s complaints, she had agonized over choosing souvenirs for her family. Deep down, Frieda cherished them dearly.

"Emilia, you’re an only child, right?"

"Yes. Though, to be honest, I don’t actually know much about my birth family."

"You don’t know your origins?"

Frieda’s expression shifted to surprise—this was the first she’d heard of it.

"I was adopted into the Ritterbach family when I was very young. So there’s a lot I don’t know about my birth parents or relatives."

"I had no idea…"

Emilia had been adopted by the Ritterbachs as a small child. They had told her the truth once she was old enough to understand, and it had never been a secret. The family had never treated her differently for being adopted.

However, even the Ritterbachs didn’t know the full story of her origins. They had agreed to take her in after a high-ranking noble approached them with the request, but to this day, neither Emilia nor the Ritterbachs had been told who that noble was.

"Who knows? Maybe one of your long-lost siblings is here at the academy."

"If that’s true, I’d love to meet them."

As they chatted, Frieda and Emilia continued decorating for the Golden Festival.

As previously noted, Albrecht’s relationship with his father, Ferdinand, was strained.

Yet, Albrecht couldn’t avoid Ferdinand forever—especially during the holidays, a time meant for family. Since Albrecht commuted from home, he had returned for the Golden Festival and now sat across from his father at the dinner table.

"Albrecht. How is the academy these days?"

Ferdinand asked without so much as glancing at him.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, Father."

Albrecht paused, setting down his fork and knife to answer.

"I see."

Ferdinand’s response gave no hint of whether he was satisfied or not. Silence reclaimed the table, broken only by the faint clinking of silverware.

"...Have you found a woman you fancy?"

After a long pause, Ferdinand spoke again.

"Yes."

"What kind of woman is she?"

"Intelligent, with a deep appreciation for literature."

"Literature, hm."

Another stretch of silence. As a military man, Ferdinand had never approved of Albrecht’s literary interests, and Albrecht assumed his father’s displeasure was the cause.

"Treasure her. I no longer expect you to become a soldier. But I do expect you to see your commitments through. If you pursue literature, then achieve something worthy of greatness in that field."

"Yes, Father."

Yet, Albrecht couldn’t fathom why Ferdinand had suddenly accepted his choice to pursue literature. It was too abrupt.

"I read your piece from the Imperial Youth Cultural Festival. I’ve come to understand you didn’t choose literature merely to escape the path of a soldier. You genuinely love it."

Ferdinand fixed his gaze on Albrecht as he spoke.

"You are different from me. From your brothers, too. I acknowledge that now."

"Thank you, Father."

And so, one family found reconciliation.

Year’s end had also come to the Lauenstein household—the home Iris had left behind.

"Kee-hee-hee-hee! The blasphemous day of Yule draws near. Our Iris—or rather, Irilith—shall surely manifest her power in full then… Fuh-hi-hi-hi!"

"Indeed. Even after that one commanded us to wait, the voices praising its will have not ceased. The hymns and hunger for higher-dimensional intellect endure. We await the day she deigns to bestow new minds upon us… Fufufu…"

Even heretics like Karl and Anneliese had their year-end traditions. Their so-called Yule bore little resemblance to the common holiday; it was a day to venerate the ancient, profane gods they worshipped.

On this day, the cult would gather to pledge allegiance to those eldritch deities.

But this year, their grand Yule assembly had been canceled.

"As Iris—or Irilith—commanded, we must wait. Until the day that one judges humanity worthy of enlightenment. All hinges on the will of the Great One. That is the truest form of our devotion."

Iris had declared she alone would choose the time and method for humanity’s "intellectual ascension." Karl and the others had accepted this and now waited patiently—just as she had once gifted them transcendent minds, so too would she uplift the rest of mankind.

"Though our Yule shall be a quiet affair, it seems Iris—or Irilith—has taken an interest in this ‘Golden Festival.’ A gaudy spectacle where the privileged flaunt wealth and tighten their grip over lesser beings… Kee-hee-hee!"

"Yes. Our Great One appeared… enthused by the prospect. Then we must prepare offerings worthy of its majesty… Fufufu…"

"Agreed. The glorious Iris—or Irilith—must never be slighted. Though we cannot openly praise the Queen of Carrion, the Squirming Darkness upon the Throne… her magnificence endures."

In short: They were discussing gifts—specifically, a dress to ensure Iris enjoyed the Golden Festival in style.

And so, as everyone’s year-end unfolded, the Golden Festival drew nearer…

……………………