Under the same starlit sky, Alisa followed the guard back to the familiar and warm Montezuma Palace. As she walked through the corridor, where the lights flickered, and entered the slightly dim main hall, she saw her father had been waiting for a long time.
Dressed in a luxurious home robe embellished with exquisite, gold-inlaid suns—a tribute from the people of Mistec—Aweit held a very large, ancient wooden plank in his hands, discussing something in a low voice with Gillim. The two occasionally pointed to a certain part of the plank, their fingers measuring, their expressions serious and solemn.
Upon seeing Alisa's return, Aweit's face broke into a smile, looking tenderly at his beloved daughter.
"Alisa, did you have a good time today?"
"Yes, Father. I'm very happy when I'm with Xiulote."
Alisa smiled genuinely, the corners of her mouth cutely upturned. She stepped forward, clutching her father's hand and inadvertently glancing at the wooden plank he held.