**Chap­ter Four Sum­ma­ry:**

As my six­ti­eth birth­day approached, the atmos­phere around me became increas­ing­ly bizarre and anx­ious. Res­i­dents of Moss­dale, includ­ing my fam­i­ly, seemed over­ly agi­tat­ed, as if they want­ed me out of their sight. Tra­di­tion­al­ly, my broth­ers and their part­ners loved orga­niz­ing cel­e­bra­to­ry events, par­tic­u­lar­ly birth­days, which had trans­formed into grand feasts of food, gifts, and, notably, elab­o­rate cakes since the human brides entered our lives. Some­how, a sim­ple day of mark­ing my aging had shift­ed into a wor­ri­some spec­ta­cle, and I began to sus­pect a con­spir­a­cy was brew­ing among my kin.

My unease inten­si­fied when Hol­ly and Kairos van­ished for an entire day, sup­pos­ed­ly using our soli­tary por­tal for errands. The night before my birth­day, sleep elud­ed me as I sensed some­thing omi­nous in Holly’s absence. When I inquired about her, Rag­nar respond­ed with vague com­ments about her not feel­ing well, which only deep­ened my appre­hen­sions. The uncer­tain­ty about my birth­day’s plans left me feel­ing uneasy.

The morn­ing dawned, and I hur­ried to Ragnar’s house, where chaos reigned as his son Mav­er­ick screamed over a bro­ken toy. Rag­nar assured me it was just a fleet­ing phase for the boy. My attempts to uncov­er the secret behind the prepa­ra­tions were met with play­ful resis­tance. Rag­nar dis­missed my con­cerns, insist­ing it was just a birth­day cel­e­bra­tion. Yet I could sense some­thing dark­er was afoot.

By noon, the town gath­ered by the riv­er where a mas­sive par­ty tent over­flowed with food and drink. Among the noise of play­ful chil­dren and bustling vil­lagers, Hol­ly approached me, ask­ing me to cov­er my eyes for a sur­prise. Trust­ing her, I com­plied, but as I was led toward the cen­ter of the tent, my heart raced with antic­i­pa­tion.

When the scarf was final­ly removed, I was stunned to be face-to-face with a gigan­tic cake. As things grew chaot­ic, the top burst open, reveal­ing a stun­ning woman who jumped out, pro­claim­ing, “Hap­py Birth­day, Bran­thor!” The crowd erupt­ed in cheer, and I was con­fused, bewil­dered by the rev­e­la­tion that this ethe­re­al fig­ure was meant to be my bride. This unex­pect­ed twist upend­ed my cer­tain­ty about what I want­ed and left me grap­pling with the impli­ca­tions of this bizarre cel­e­bra­tion.