Come morning there was still no Archimedes and it was starting to irk her just a little. Unsure if it was time for her to be worried or to be pissed off. Did she even have a right to be pissed off!
Regardless, she bid goodbye to the man at the bar on her way out. With every intention to give it a little more time before she decided one way or another. As long as she could feel the bond, it was safe to assume he was out there up to his own business and she needed to let him do it. While she headed down to the docks to see about finding someone willing to take her out on a boat, she decided that was about as long as she would wait. When she was back to shore, she’d summon him up.
By the time a princess hidden amongst the people would reached the docks, the bond was still intact—fragile, but there. Like a single strand of spider silk stretched taut across a great distance, glimmering in the morning light. It pulsed faintly between them, a soft hum of awareness that whispered the demon was still out there, somewhere beyond physical reach. But well within the reach of summoned.
Not enough to warrant concern. It was still a new thing between the pair of them certainly and required more time to truly get the understanding of distance.
To that meaning, one wouldn’t easily notice a change right away. The shift was too subtle, too gradual. But even then, the bond had begun to weaken.
It was not a break. Not yet.
Once someone had finally taken interest in the tall glass of dark wine and an offering of going onto one of those large vessels, the thread began to fray. Hour by hour, its once-vibrant glow dimmed. The connection—once instinctual, effortless—now flickered like a dying ember.
Somewhere far from her, Archimedes was no longer moving by his own will. He had been pulled—taken—into something not of his making. A trap. Deliberate, cruel, and built with precision. Demonic in nature. The kind of snare that doesn’t just catch its prey, but consumes it slowly, unraveling body, mind, and magic alike.
Who laid it remained unclear. The power behind it was cloaked, distant, patient. But its intent was unmistakable: to isolate, to sever, to silence.
Archimedes had fought it. Briefly. But there are traps designed to counter even the cleverest of minds, and this one had been waiting for someone like him.
By midday, the bond had become faint enough to question. A whisper buried in wind. Still present, but quieter than it had ever been. The bond began to fray the moment he was forced into it.
It wasn’t immediate. It stretched, strained, flickered. But hour by hour, as she drifted farther from shore, and he sank deeper into that strange and silent place, the thread that connected them began to dissolve. Until the last remnants began to dissolve. Not snapped. Not severed.
Just… gone.
Like it had never been there at all.
No echo. No lingering trace.
One would feel the absence before they could have truly understood it. Although a faeling that had her magic removed once, might know it more intimately than others. A hollow space where something precious had once lived. And a glaring absence that the demon himself, was no longer present. Not in the way that it had been cut off by that of the demon himself, but something else.
Something stronger.
Something that intervened.
Out on the docks in the bright morning sunshine, there was no lack of choices and opportunities to get herself onto a ship, that was for certain. If she wanted to escape the elven kingdom by sea, all she had to do was book passage. If she wanted a full day tour with a boat full of primpy, prissy tourists that’d come out to this town on a vacation from their usual humdrum lives, she could’ve done that too. She could’ve been snuck onto one of the cargo ships by very flirtatious sailors.
In the end she chatted up a nice elderly couple with their own small little vessel that were heading out for a single day of fishing, having no more need than that to feed themselves and make enough money to sustain them for the week. As long as she made herself useful, they didn’t much mind the company.
When Calia had her mind set on doing something, she was a woman of singular focus. Quick to learn and a studious listener. The girl’s sea legs came naturally, she’d always been graceful on her feet and it didn’t take long to figure out how to balance her weight. Luck was with her too in that she didn’t seem to have a weak stomach, for the movement nor for the smells.
The trouble came in learning knots and how to recognize when to catch the sails. The old man, who called himself Chester, was a harsh teacher. A figure it out the hard way kind of man, who would show her something twice and then let her have at it. Once they were clear of the big ships, out there on the open water there was a moment she hadn’t tied down one of the sail masts with a strong enough knot and the blasted thing came swinging. Chester knew his boat well and where to duck, while Calia got herself swept right over the edge of the boat. Only quick thinking on clinging to the mast like a monkey prevented her from having a salty bath in the deep.
Chester chortled and hollered and laughed himself doubled over onto his knees. Claiming he ain’t never heard a woman let out such a string of curse words.
Once they were well out to sea with nothing else in sight beyond the coast far on the horizon, Calia stood at the bow, gazing out at nothing but deep azure blue meeting sky. Calm sparkling waters as far as the eye could see, stretched out in every direction.
Beautiful. Isolating.
She’d felt it at that point, the tether of the binding feeling stretched and thin. In the moment not thinking much of it beyond assuming it was the distance. They’d sailed far enough away from the land that it was barely visible, so it made sense that perhaps it interfered. Being out there on the sea, surrounded by a whole lot of nothing and feeling that connection wane, it was shocking how fast she’d grown reliant on it just existing as something to hold her tight to the world.
Calia did not like the ocean. While there might’ve been a chance her own emptiness was coloring her impressions, no amount of fresh salty air and sparkling blue was going to somehow inspire her love.
“A scowl like that gon scare all the fish away now, gurl,” exclaimed Elsie, old grumpy Chester’s wife. Sidling up next to Calia with her fishing pole in hand and gesturing to the black mark that was peeking out from under the sleeve Calia had rolled up while she was working. “Can’t say I blame yah, only a matter of time ‘fore that’un comes an bites yah in the arse.”
Calia’s brow furrowed, placing her hand over the mark for a moment before glancing at the old woman curiously. “You’ve seen this before? What is it?”
Now that got the old woman mirroring a look of surprise. “Demon-touched. Yah came out them mountains, ain’t yah? Can’t say I ever saw one on a round ear, yah die so quick. But them marks come about when bone hits bone. Weapon, claw, teeth… don’t matter much, so long as it’s demon sourced, demon made. Folks used ta think it a badge of honor havin’ survived, but they ain’t survive for long. That mark appears on yah and there ain’t no demon that can resist comin’ back and claimin’ a trophy.”
On the one hand, Calia was glad to know she wasn’t bound to some other demon out there. The other? What the fuck. She scrabbled through her memory trying to think of just when she might’ve been hit so bad to have a wound struck down to her bone. She’d been knocked on her ass a few times and pecked at but nothing serious. That creature in the faewood had stabbed her pretty good, but she’d already had the mark…
He stood there over her, a deranged sort of smile spreading across gaunt features, all teeth and insanity with such a satisfied laugh. He grabbed her wrist with something glinting in his hand, and it burned, burned, burned as it stabbed through flesh and sliced it’s way down.
She must have looked white as a ghost and about to tilt overboard, as the elder woman reached out to squeeze her arm.
“There, there, gurl. Ain’t nothin’ to be lookin’ back on now. You know now then, doncha? Maybe you’ll make it.”
That pitying statement and tone of voice did not fill her with any peace.
Calia spent the day out on that boat with such a sense of unease that the tension had pooled into her shoulders and she was near as surly as the old man himself. As promised, though, she helped with the sails and the rigging. Helped pulled in nets of fish and tossing the unwanted ones back in. She did not speak much, lost in her own thoughts about demon marks and demon bindings. Having this desperate need to get her hands on one specific demon, but not willing to risk attempting to summon him up in the middle of the ocean on a small little boat.
When they did make it back to shore that long thin tether had not grown stronger with every wave closer to the coast. In fact, the more she reached for it, the less she could find it. Until she had her shaky sea legs back on solid ground and was stomping her way down the pier to find somewhere quiet, empty, devoid of passing bodies. Where she realized there was nothing there at all. Just the empty nothingness that was always with her now.
“Archimedes!” she shouted, balling her hands into fists. “Archimedes!“
The worst possible thing was her obvious first thought. He’d sent her off on her own and found a way to dissolve the bond on the very first chance he got. Or was it that they’ve fulfilled the contract? That was also a possibility, for he had no need of her now that he had his memories again and was no longer prisoner to the mage’s guild or to the Edelguard palace. And what of her need of him? He’d told her himself, she was capable. Calia didn’t need him, she didn’t need anyone.
So why was this now sitting in the pit of her stomach like weighted lead.
It had waited.
Arc could see it now—how calculated it all had been. The shadow that had trailed them in silence, biding its time with all the patience of something old and cruel. It didn’t come for him when Calia was near, when the bond between them thrummed strong and bright in his chest. No, it waited. Waited until she was just a shimmer at the edge of his awareness, the tether between them stretched thin by leagues of land and silence.
Then, it struck.
Not with fire or fanfare. Just a pull—sharp, precise—and the world twisted. The next thing he knew, he was here: chained in a room of scorched stone and stale blood, reeking of sulfur and ruin. His arms were bound above him, wrists burning where the iron bit into his skin. Runes pulsed faintly beneath the metal, siphoning magic, suppressing him. Not enough to kill. Just enough to keep him quiet.
The bond was still there, but buried. Muted like a song underwater. He couldn’t feel her. Couldn’t send anything back. It was like screaming with no voice, drowning with eyes wide open. Someone had done this. Someone had figured out how to smother the connection without breaking it. It was smart. And that made it dangerous.
The demon that had caught him loomed just a few feet away, grotesque and massive—bone-plated shoulders, claws black as pitch, a face twisted into something that barely resembled a man. A second-rank creature, and a smug one at that.
It had been watching him for hours, silent save for the occasional amused snort. And then finally, it spoke. “Tell me about the fae girl, Archimedes.”
Arc blinked slowly, one brow arcing despite the dried blood crusted down his temple. “Wow,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “We’re on a first-name basis already? Should I be flattered?”
The demon tilted its head. “You’re bleeding from six places.”
“I’ve had worse first dates.”
A flash of movement—crack—the back of a clawed hand slammed into his cheek. His head snapped to the side, vision flashing white, jaw screaming in protest. But he laughed through the blood, low and sharp. “Touchy.”
The demon’s eyes narrowed. “You’re wasting time.”
“Buddy, I’m in chains. Time’s all I’ve got.”
Another blow, this one to his ribs. He felt something crack, fire blooming under his skin. He coughed, blood dribbling down his chin, but still—no fear. No answers.
“Calia,” the demon said again, slower this time as if he were too stupid to understand just who it wanted him to talk about. “The master wants to know what she is planning. Thinking. Doing…” Master? Derrick… he was assuming. Which posed a mighty few more questions that were going to have to tumble around in his head privately.
“Well, she’s definitely out of yer league.” The demon roared and struck again—fist like a hammer to his gut. Arc’s vision darkened at the edges, but he kept the smile. Half-mad. Fully defiant. “Hit me all yah want,” he wheezed, “I’m not in the habit of sellin’ out others just because yer havin’ a bad day. Especially not the ones who’d burn this whole place down out of pure spite. Yah really ought to be considerin’ yerself pleased that yah know nothin’ about her.”
It had seemed thoughtful for a second before turning to seem annoyed more than anything. “You think she’ll find you?” the demon hissed, crouching low to meet his eyes. “You think that bond will save you?”
Arc smiled wider, teeth pink with blood. “No. I’ll save me. That lass ain’t guna waste her damn time sloggin’ back after me. She’s probably doin’ somethin’ else. Someone else more likely? So, it’s just yah and I.”
“Tell me about the fae girl,” it said, again. A tone that suggested it was the last time it was going to try.
Arc gave a broken little laugh. “She’s an excellent cook. Terrible at card games. Absolute menace when she’s had too much drink.” Pulling any and all thoughts together that didn’t have to be true.
The demon didn’t move. “You think this is a joke.”
“No, I think yer the joke.” He gave a bloodied grin. “But to yer credit, yah’ve really committed to the bit.”
The demon let out a slow breath, something between a growl and a chuckle. “So be it.”
The torture resumed.
The demon struck him again—fast, brutal. A claw raked across his chest, reopening wounds that had barely stopped bleeding. Arc choked on a groan, biting it back with everything he had. He slumped forward as the demon backed away again, flexing its claws, watching him. The pain was mounting—steady, dull, threatening to become overwhelming. But he gritted his teeth and thought. Another hit. This time across his shoulder. White-hot fire lanced down his spine, and biting down hard on a scream.
He couldn’t count on the bond right now. It was smothered under whatever hell-forged net this thing had cast. And his magic was restrained—slow and flickering, like a candle on its last breath.
But the runes had limits. He’d seen their kind before—ancient, powerful, but not infallible. They weren’t designed to last forever. Not unless powered by something massive. And he hadn’t seen any sign of a power source nearby.
Which meant there had to be a flaw. A crack. Something physical he could work with. Because if he couldn’t reach Calia, and he couldn’t blast his way out, then he’d damn well out think this bastard.
And he only had to do it before the next blow knocked him out cold.
It was probably an hour she stood out there, maybe even longer as the sun was starting to dip towards the horizon in a hue of muted colors, trying to summon him up from whatever hole he’d scurried into or fell in. Going through all the motions of anger, grief, and panic until she had to accept the fact he was just gone.
But not the magic.
Calia wasn’t sure how she knew, because it wasn’t as if she could feel it or touch it. She couldn’t grasp at the threads and pull it to her, nor could she seem to feel it anywhere in order to follow it. There would be no hunting down Archimedes by the binding, no matter how hard she tried. And she could pace around outside for hours more trying to determine what that actually meant and lightning could strike her down and Calia would still not understand what that actually meant. Showing in complete, frustrating awareness that there was so much about magic that Calia did not know. It flowed in her blood and was the air she breathed, she took to it as naturally as anything, and yet that did not mean she knew and understood it.
Natural talent only got you as far as twiddling your thumbs the first time you hit a problem.
Or rampaging your way out a dead city.
So Calia stopped her stomping and returned to the tavern, plopping herself into her new favorite seat at the bar and ordered a strong drink. She had to think her way through it, and damnit it all, if she weren’t bad at thinking.
What did she know for certain?
Her relationship with Archimedes was tentative and fragile.
As far as she had seen, the man didn’t lie. Not on purpose.
So then he and that enchanted leafy piglet were waylaid on the way here.
It wasn’t by his own choosing as he couldn’t refuse her summoning.
The problem now lie in the fact that Calia couldn’t rescue him if she couldn’t find him. Even then, she’d have to rely on her fae travel and that was liable to have her passing out and getting snatched. Archimedes was no weaker demon, though… Mouthy, a pain in the ass, but she’d felt the well of his demon magic and his arcane magic on top of it. Whomever did have him was likely to get some very nasty surprises, as he was not going to take well to being captured by someone again.
…she kind of wished she could see it!
With that in mind, the best Calia could do was wait. Arc meant to meet her here in this town, then here in this town she would stay. Until the end of the festival seemed fair enough, or until she thought of some genius plan.
The Driftwood Haven was alive with the hum of the festival preparations, the air thick with excitement and the scent of food and spicewine. Outside, the streets of Tír Élas were already alive with bustling festival-goers, their voices rising in anticipation of the High Tide Festival’s first official events. The lanterns twinkled brightly overhead, casting warm pools of light on the streets.
Inside the tavern, the mood was no different. Brux was weaving between tables, expertly handling drinks and keeping the place running smoothly. His charisma shone through effortlessly, his voice deep and smooth as he joked with patrons and wiped down the bar. He was a master of multitasking, and he wore it like a second skin.
Nova, on the other hand, had her apron still on, dusted with flour and hints of something sweet. She’d clearly been busy in the kitchen, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take a moment to check on her friends. Her silver-blue hair shimmered as she moved through the lively tavern, full of energy, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she made her way to the bar.
She spotted Calia sitting there, and with a grin, she practically skipped over to her. Leaning in, Nova nudged her playfully with her shoulder.
“Oi, stranger,” she said, her voice warm and full of life, “what’ve yah been up to today then?”
Her bright bronze eyes sparkled with curiosity, her gaze flicking briefly over to Renata who was standing at a nearby table, chatting animatedly with a group of patrons. She wasn’t serving drinks at the moment, but her presence was unmistakable. Nova smiled, watching her for a second before returning her focus to Calia.
“Yah’ve got that look about yah—like yah’ve either been plotting something dangerous or yah’ve done absolutely nothing, and I’m here for both,” Nova continued, flashing a playful grin.
She glanced behind her to make sure Brux hadn’t noticed her slipping away from the kitchen duties. “Don’t tell Brux I’ve snuck away, yah? Place is already going mad, and we’re not even at peak festival chaos.”
Nova leaned in closer with a wink, her expression conspiratorial. “So, tell me everything, love. Start to finish. I’m all ears.”
Calia hated this feeling. Knowing that something wasn’t right and that she had no power, no knowledge to do anything about it. Worried about someone while still having that insidious darker thought that perhaps nothing was wrong at all, and she truly was left on her own to just figure it out all. Tempted to drink herself into stupidity, because at least then she’d be unconscious soon after and not having to feel it!
Then the moonbeam of Tír Élas appeared, truly a force of nature that lived up to her name, for she was all explosive energy and good cheer and a little bit of mischief. There couldn’t be a foul mood in the world that would be able to resist such a thing, and apparently Calia was no exception.
Meeting the woman’s soft grin with a faded smile and a shrug of her shoulders.
“I went on a fishing outing with a nice elderly couple. Learned about knots and how quick wind can shift direction to knock your ass off a boat if you’re not careful,” she relayed. “It wasn’t terrible, but I don’t think I’ll be moving out here and making my life at sea.”
She sure wasn’t going to admit to plotting, Nova would likely attempt to create some sort of search party and how the hell was Calia supposed to explain the pure error in that!
“I heard someone talking about the lanterns earlier. What was all that about again? Just sending wishes out to sea?”
It was immediate that her face lit up when the woman mentioned sailing, but her expression softened into one of thought as she leaned back a little, the memory bubbling up as if it had just been waiting for the right moment to surface.
“Ah, yah know,” she started, grinning widely, “I can’t say I’ve ever been the most elegant when it comes to the whole ‘sea adventure’ thing.” She gave a little chuckle, shaking her head. “First time I was ever on a ship was when I was just a wee thing—maybe six or seven. My Da thought it’d be a good idea to take me out on a little boat trip with some of his mates.”
Her grin turned a little more mischievous, and she lowered her voice slightly, as though the memory was a shared secret. “Anyway, he got me all excited, tellin’ me about how I’d love it. All the big sails and the salt air, and I was absolutely certain I’d be a natural sailor. I mean, how hard could it be?”
She paused, holding up a finger dramatically. “I should’ve taken the hint when the crew started to look nervous about having a little girl runnin’ around. But, no—I was ready for the high seas.” Eyes sparkling with nostalgic amusement as she continued, clearly enjoying the retelling.
“So there I am, all wide-eyed, bouncin’ around like a puppy, tryin to ‘help’ with the sails… and I’m in my best dress, of course, because no one told me it was a workin’ trip, right? Long story short, the moment I tried to climb the riggin’, I got tangled in a rope and ended up swingin’ like a pendulum over the side of the ship. I may or may not have yelled ‘I’m flyin’!’ as I hung there by one leg before I got dropped unceremoniously into the sea.”
She laughed, her shoulders shaking with the memory. “My Da nearly had a fit, and the crew couldn’t stop laughin’. I think they were just relieved I wasn’t actually in the water for long. But that didn’t stop them from sendin’ me to the galley, out of harm’s way, where I spent the rest of the day tryin’ to eat my weight in biscuits. After that, I decided maybe the sea wasn’t for me… at least, not in a crew member kind of way. But watchin’ it? Now, that’s somethin’ I can get behind.” She paused for all of a second, tapping her chin. “I don’t think my Da ever told my Mum about that either.”
Beaming at Calia, all energy and light, the glimmer of humor still ever present in her eyes. “So, yeah. If yer ever thinkin’ of takin’ to the sea in the future, might want to skip the riggin’. I can give yah some tips on the best way to fall in, though, if yer curious.”
Nova’s smile softened, the playful gleam in her eyes shifting into something more thoughtful as she listened to Calia’s question about the lanterns. She leaned in a little closer, her voice taking on that tone of someone sharing a well-loved tradition.
“Yah see,” she began, her voice warm, “The lanterns are a big part of the High Tide Festival here in Tír Élas. It’s not just about sendin’ pretty lights out to sea. There’s a whole meanin’ behind it.”
She paused for a moment, clearly savoring the chance to explain. “People write their wishes on them—could be anythin’, really. Wishes for the future, hopes for loved ones, or even just a little hope for themselves. Yah write it down, tie it to the lantern, and then yah send it out to the ocean.”
Nova leaned back, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment, her face thoughtful. “It’s kind of a beautiful thing, really. The sea doesn’t promise to give yah what yah want. It’s just a way of sayin’, ‘Here’s my hope, take it where it needs to go, and I’ll trust that I’ll be okay no matter where it lands.’”
She turned back to Calia, her gaze kind, but with a glimmer of impish delight. “So, if yer thinkin’ about writin’ yer own wish, just remember that it’s not about gettin’ exactly what yah want. It’s about puttin’ it out there and lettin’ it sail. It’s kind of freein’ in a way, don’t yah think?”
Nova was a storyteller, there was no doubt about that. Not that Calia minded in the slightest, listening to other people chatter away was probably one of her most favorite pass times. It didn’t really matter what they were talking about as long as they were invested and happy to share it. Utter nonsense about a boring workday, or simply local gossip. As someone that didn’t speak a lot herself, it was nice to listen.
And boy did Nova tell a yarn!
An excited little girl getting her hands all into everything and nearly having herself a dunk in the deep. Calia hadn’t quite tackled her day with that same enthusiasm, nor had she fared a frightening dip. …glad that she hadn’t, the thought of swimming in that sea was actually kind of terrifying! Regardless, she did give a soft laugh at the story.
“You can bet I’ll be mindful of my head and torso the next time I take to sailing,” she did manage to say.
The lanterns had her full interest though, not just because she’d asked the question just to steer Nova into safer topics. This tradition of people putting their hopes into something, a tangible thing with meaning, and putting it out in the world had a certain amount of appeal to it. Calia didn’t know if she had any hope left in her – spite, and fire, and will to live for certain. Hope? It felt like trying to hold the most thin and fragile piece of glass in her hands.
“I think the hardest part would be thinking of a genuine hope and not just me being a disgruntled witch,” she responded with a laugh at first, then tilted her head with a thoughtful frown. “Where does one get the lanterns? I’m here, I may as well do as elves do.”
Her expression brightened even more as she leaned in a little closer, clearly excited to share the details with Calia. “Ah, yah won’t find the lanterns here inside the tavern, love. The setup’s over by the docks, where all the festival action’s takin’ place. That’s where they’ve got the big lantern stand, all stacked up and ready for everyone to grab their own.”
She gave a little nod towards the door, as if mentally picturing the scene. “It’s all set up right by the water, near the edge of the pier. There are a few crafters there sellin’ them—some are made of delicate sea glass that catches the light, others are crafted from wood, carved with little symbols of Isyn herself. They’ve got a bit of magic woven into them, and each one’s got its own little charm.”
Her eyes sparkled as she continued, voice dipping a little lower with a touch of mystery. “But here’s the trick: Yah don’t just grab one off the shelf. Yer supposed to feel yer way to the right one. Yah know, find one that calls to yah, feels like it’ll carry yer wish the best. Some people go for the ones with symbols, others for the ones that just have the right vibe.”
Nova leaned back slightly, glancing toward the door again with a smile. “Once yah’ve picked yer lantern, yer supposed to leave somethin’ behind—a little token, a piece of yerself. A flower, a scrap of fabric, anythin’ that has meanin’ to yah. That’s the part of the ritual. It’s not just about getting what yah want, it’s about giving somethin’ to the sea too, as I said. Money has no use for this sort of thing, which is kinda odd when yah think about it. Isyn being the goddess of trade and sea, yah know.”
Her grin softened as she added, “Once yah’ve got yer lantern and left yer little offerin’, yah head out to the pier just before the highest peak of the moon, they light them all up and send them out to sea. It’s such a sight, yah know? Dozens of lanterns drifting on the water, each one carryin’ someone’s hopes. The tide takes them wherever it will… kinda like sendin’ yer wishes into the world, hopin’ the sea goddess will hear them.”
No sooner did her usual mischievous glint returning. “I’ll be there too, of course. My lantern’ll probably have way too many flowers tied to it, but hey, it’s tradition at this point.” She grinned, nudging Calia lightly. “Yah should come along with me when I do so, Calia. Make a wish. Yah never know what might come floatin’ back yer way.” Of course she wasn’t insisting, merely spreading that impish grin a little wider. “Unless yer plannin’ on repeatin’ what happened last night. Busyin’ yer room with a cute little fella that keep’s yah too busy to do much else.”
Well, that was curious. That each of the lanterns had a bit of magic in them. Calia wondered if that was simply what the elders had always told the children because it made it all the more special and mysterious, or if those that made the lanterns genuinely imbued each one with a little spark. It’s not like she knew how the things managed to float off into the air anyway, so perhaps it was mild enchantments. Magic hadn’t been stripped away and buried in Edelguard the way it had in Caeldalmor, these were likely simple things.
Finding a lantern that ‘called’ to her would be as simple as searching for the one that looked pretty, highly doubting this tale Nova was spinning about the right lantern for the right person. The more difficult part was an offering that was personal to her, as Calia literally had nothing and no one. At least nothing she was willing to give, as her signet ring was her only connection to her family and the sword Archimedes had given her was too precious to let go.
She’d think of something.
Leaving Calia laughing at the woman’s final statement of Calia’s bedroom habits. She’d been that observant, then!
“Who said I can’t go light myself a lantern and then pick up a handsome gent afterwards? I am a woman of varied skills,” she mused, her formally muted smile being something wider and more genuine then. “I’ll come with you. Maybe your tempestuous sea will find a kindred spirit in me.”
Nova let out a bright, melodic laugh, the kind that danced on the air like wind-chimes in a spring breeze. “Ohhh, varied skills, is it? Saints preserve us, I knew there was more to yah than that broody stare and all that sharp steel,” she teased, her voice lilting gently with the soft rise and fall of her Tír Élas brogue, warm as hearthfire.
As the laughter settled, Nova’s eyes wandered briefly past Calia—catching sight of Brux standing near the edge of the gathering. He wasn’t sayin’ a word, but the way he lifted his brow and gave the faintest, pointed tilt of his head toward the kitchen said enough. It was the kind of silent nudge she was well used to, and she answered it with a subtle raise of her shoulders and an expression that said, Aye, I see yah, I’m goin’.
Her smile remained easy as she turned back to Calia. “Well then, whenever yah’re ready to go lookin’ for that lantern that knows yer name, I’ll be in the kitchen—probably elbow-deep in dough or tryin’ not to set fire to my apron. Yah just come find me, alright?”
She stepped back, already half-turnin’ to go, with the faintest roll of her eyes at Brux’s ever-watchful stare. “No rush on it. The sea’s got patience… and lucky for yah, so do I.”
Then, with a playful wink and a grin full of mischief all over again, she called over her shoulder, “And if yah do catch sight of a handsome gent before it all, bring him by—I’ll save him a slice of berry tart. Might even sneak him a second if he tells me I smell like vanilla.”
Something told Calia that Nova was trouble for any and everyone here in Tír Élas, which truly just made her like the woman all the more. There were not many genuine and sweet gentle souls in the world, that could put a whole room of people at ease with nothing but a highly unbelievable story and a few warm smiles. Seemed like the sort of person Calia should be. If it weren’t for the fact she knew damn well she was a terrible wicked thing deep down in her soul.
At least she had sense enough not to try and force herself into that box now. Calia could not be as poised as Renus, nor as breezy as Nova. Shooting stars were meant to fly, crash and burn.
Gesturing to her drink, she signaled to the elven woman that she ended to finish that off before heading out anywhere. Which gave Nova plenty of time to finish up her own work. It also lent Calia a few moments to think of what was worth offering some goddess of the sea, that actually meant something enough to be worthy of a wish. …and then what wish would she even cast into the ether? Everything Calia wanted she could accomplish herself, else it was completely unobtainable.
Not to mention that pit of dread in her stomach that practically screamed something was wrong.
After a good bit of eavesdropping on others to see if she could hear some means of inspiration, once Calia was finished with her drink she did just as Nova asked and came to seek her out in the kitchens. Watchful about it too just incase someone came swinging a cleaver over tall, dark intruders. Silent as a mouse she was, allowing her expression to do all the speaking for her!
Nova glanced up from the counter just as she was pressing the edge of a pie crust into a tin, the scent of honeyed apples and lavender clinging to the warm air. Her sleeves were dusted in flour, a smudge of it on her nose, and her braids had started to come loose from the heat and bustle. But the moment she spotted Calia, her whole face lit up like a lantern catching flame.
“Oh!” she gasped, delight blooming in her voice. “Yer ready. Perfect!”
Without hesitation, she tugged off her apron—careful not to fling flour at the delicate little tartlets cooling nearby—and tossed it onto a stool. A young male elf at the far counter, chopping herbs with practiced precision, paused to glance up at the two of them. His hair, a deep brown, was tousled and a little too long, like it hadn’t seen a comb in days. His clothes were simple—earthy tones of greens and browns, a bit worn at the edges, as though they were made for practicality rather than style. A well-fitted shirt rolled up at the sleeves revealed forearms that looked as though they were used to the work of the land—strong but unassuming. His eyes, a muted shade of green, seemed to have a quiet awareness to them, always watching, always taking in the world with an easy, grounded gaze. He didn’t say a word, just blinked once, then looked back down with the faintest twitch of a knowing smile.
There was a softness to him, too, despite the country-like roughness in his appearance—his smile, though rare, was genuine and warm, a subtle thing that made you feel like you were sharing a quiet joke only the two of you understood. Nova, meanwhile, was already briskly crossing the room, a dusting of flour trailing in her wake. She looped her arm through Calia’s with that same effervescent joy, like the world had just tilted a little more in her favor.
“I was just finishin’ the berry tarts,” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement. “And the pie’s got another hour to bake, so we’ve got time.” She gave Calia’s arm a gentle squeeze. As she linked arms with Calia and started to head for the door, she paused, turning to the young male elf still at the counter. “Good night, Alden, if Brux asks cause he didn’t pay attention, I’m off for the night.” she called cheerfully, her voice light and warm, as always.
Alden glanced up from his work, offering a brief nod and that quiet, knowing smile of his. He didn’t say anything, but there was a gentle glimmer in his eyes as he returned to his chopping, the soft rhythm of his knife a steady background to their departure. Nova gave him a quick wave, then with a grin back at Calia, she tugged her toward the door. “Now, where were we? Oh, right—off to find that lantern.”
There was a soft gesture of a finger towards the work Nova was just up and abandoning the middle of, not that it was important or even noticed. Leaving the ebony hair girl both amused that Nova was willing to just drop everything at a moment’s notice and a little alarmed that she might’ve agreed to get dragged along the pier by a hurricane!
The young man on the stool got a curious and quick inspection, with the faintest of wonderment if he’d be frustrated by such a thing. Except he seemed to have this patient knowing hint of a smile of his own, likely having had to deal with this sort of nonsense every single day.
Seemed like there wasn’t going to be any introductions on that front, as the tiny moonbeam of a girl was practically dragging Calia away! A good thing she had such long legs and could take wide strides, as she suspected Nova would be dragging her along the ground if she didn’t keep her step up!
“The one in the kitchen had a soft look about him,” she deemed curious enough to say. “Alden is not one of Brux’s family?”
They were going to roll over children at the rate Nova was going, likely with that short hour of time in her mind about the pies she’d just up and abandoned! Leaving Calia wondering why she didn’t just wait until her baking was done, or if the young man in the kitchen was going to handle it all for her!
Her expression softened as she led Calia out the door, her voice lowering a touch when she spoke about Alden. “Alden’s a good friend of mine, yah know. He’s… not much of a talker, as yah might’ve noticed. He’s mute—has been since he was born. Doesn’t stop him from bein’ as sharp as a tack, though.”
She gave a small shrug, her eyes flicking toward the kitchen briefly before continuing, “He’s not one of Brux’s family, though. He came to Tír Élas when he was a kid, moved here with his uncle after his parents… well, they passed away when he was younger. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just… other causes. But his uncle’s been lookin’ after him ever since, and they’ve both made a life here.”
Nova’s grin softened, a fondness curling at the edges of her lips. “Alden’s from the east side of Edelguard—bit of a country boy, that one. Loves workin’ with herbs and cookin’. Simple food, but always with that extra touch, like it’s meant to bring a little peace to the world.”
She paused, a twinkle in her eye as she waved to a few people in the tavern in her way of saying goodbye. “Now, I’ve got a funny story about him. When he was a kid, he tried to teach a rabbit to follow him, like a dog. Thought he could train it. Ended up carryin’ that poor thing around everywhere, like it was his best mate. Never got the hang of it, but it was sweet… a bit ridiculous, too. But I think it just proves he’s got away with creatures—and plants too.”
Her smile grew warmer as she finished, “He’s quiet, sure. But I’d trust him with my life. Even if he don’t speak, he’s always got somethin’ to say, in his own way.”
As they stepped out of the tavern, the cool evening air swept over them as the sounds of the town’s festivities grew louder. The High Tide Festival was in full swing, the atmosphere alive with laughter, music, and the murmur of dozens of voices echoing through the streets. Lanterns already floating overhead prematurely but likely because one couldn’t resist casting them out already. The soft glow across the cobbled streets, each one bobbing gently in the night breeze as though they had a mind of their own. The night sky above was a velvet blanket of stars, the moon casting its silvery light on everything below.
“Ah, there’s the spirit of it,” Nova said, her eyes lighting up as they walked down the boardwalk. “The air’s got that magic feel, doesn’t it? Like the world’s holdin’ its breath, just waitin’ for somethin’ to happen.”
The boardwalk was bustling with activity—vendors shouting to attract attention, children laughing as they chased each other between the stalls, and couples strolling arm in arm, taking in the sights and sounds. The scent of freshly baked bread and spiced cider lingered in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of saltwater from the nearby pier. A band played in the distance, the soft strum of a harp blending with the lively beat of a drum, drawing people in from all sides to gather near the music.
As they passed a group of festivalgoers, one of them called out in greeting, a couple of young girls laughing as they held up delicate hand-painted fans. A fire-eater performed nearby, his flames crackling in the air, the crowd gathered around him in awe. Nearby, some children were taking turns on a makeshift swing, laughing and shouting as the rope creaked under their weight.
“We’re almost there,” Nova said, her voice bright with excitement. The sound of a distant bell chimed, signaling the start of one of the festival’s grander activities—perhaps a dance or a parade. Nova glanced up at the lanterns floating above them, their light dancing like fireflies in the night. “There’s no better time than now to find the one that’s meant for yah. Isn’t it excitin’? Yah really picked a perfect time to come to town, love!”
“It’s hard finding those of soft hearts, even harder finding one that you trust that much,” she mused in response to Nova’s warm respect for the man in the kitchen. Calia couldn’t say she was very good at seeing the threads of romance between people – she had a hard time believing in it, after all – but it almost seemed like the girl was sweet on him. Just a little. He surely had a fondness of his own for the silvery haired girl.
These thoughts she’d keep to herself, however, as she had no business meddling in the romantic lives of others. Calia had been asked to meddle on Nysia’s behalf to help her figure out her nonsense. Asked by the faerie tree as well to do a little weaving. What did she even know about love, anyway!
The woman declared that the air had a magic feel to it and Calia found herself tilting her head and trying to see if that was literally true. Edelguard itself did have it’s own kind of magic in the air. The lands were still close to the fae and even the elven people too, despite having been apart for so long. As for a special kind of magic in the here and now in honor of these festivities…? That was getting a dubious sort of smile. The atmosphere certainly had a magical charm. Lanterns floating above like big fancy fireflies. How exuberant and excited the people were to just have an evening of reverie.
“I guess it is a kind of magic, isn’t it,” she said instead to be encouraging an not rain down on this parade. Besides, one could still appreciate the beauty and joy of things, even if their own heart was a frozen lump and their chest black and empty.
Only to blink with a start at Nova’s exclamation that it was a good time to find the one. Calia had forgotten about that little tidbit, hadn’t she. Vaguely remembering it was part of the girl’s explanations when they’d first met. She erupted into a scoffing laugh.
“Are you out here wishing for a love, then Nova?” she asked the girl instead of making the bold declaration that any love for Calia would have to be some sort of formidable monster to even be able to deal with Calia and her bullshit.
If Nova took notice of how Calia’s choice of wording towards the means of it being magical, she didn’t point it out. To stop to really do so. Far too enamoured with the feeling of it all around them. The sounds. The people. The excitement. It was like it was her first time, not like she had been coming every year since she was wee little. Squeezing the woman’s arm fondly with an eager bobbing of head. No sooner pointing at a few stalls that had been setup on the boardwalk. Colourful displays of bunting and fabrics draped from their quick assembly’s.
People lined up in pairs or trios or more. The waft of late night food and drinks that were just quick pours made up a majority of these places.
All in the name of celebration. Of camaraderie! It was utterly thrilling. There was something to say with having a bunch of round ears that had never partook in the festival either, present. Noticing more than a handful enjoying the very event. Likely needed from the travesty of their homeland being ruined, this was a nice chance for them to be free of such mental anguish. To live and thrive and be part of the very pulse of life around them.
Tugging Calia along, and hearing the girl bursting into laughter, Nova threw her a winsome beam. Bright and glittery and certainly not at all offended that she might be a little more whimsical on the idea of finding the one or not.
Glancing over at Calia, her smile full of waywardness but with a warmth that hinted at something deeper. “Ah, me? A love?” she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I’m not sure love’s what I’m out here wishin’ for. Though, I wouldn’t turn it down, of course.”
She gave a little wrinkle to her nose before sights softened, her voice lowering just a touch, as though she was sharing a secret all over again. “What I’m really hopin’ for is just a moment, y’know? The kind where it feels like everythin’ falls into place, even if just for a heartbeat. Sometimes, that’s the kind of thing that makes love possible.”
Nova’s gaze drifted across the crowd, a thoughtful look crossing her face as she spoke, her tone a little softer now, almost as though she was talking more to herself than to Calia. “I wouldn’t mind findin’ someone unexpected, y’know? Not someone all polished and perfect, but maybe someone a bit… rough around the edges, like life’s left its mark on ’em. Someone who’s not afraid to be themselves, even if it means they don’t always fit the mold.”
Lips quirked into a smile, as if she was amused by her own words, but there was a hint of something wistful in her expression. “Someone who doesn’t have to talk all fancy to make an impression, just someone whose presence… kinda fills the space, like they’ve been walkin’ this world long enough to know what really matters.”
She paused, her eyes softening as she spoke more quietly, the words coming with a vulnerability she didn’t often show. “I think I’d like someone I could be honest with—someone imperfect, someone who gets that I don’t always have to be strong or brave. Someone I don’t have to put on a front for, y’know? I could just… be me, without worryin’ that I’m not enough.”
A small, almost shy smile tugged at her lips as she glanced back at Calia. “Not that I’m expectin’ it, of course. But it’d be nice, wouldn’t it? So maybe I am wishin’ for it more than I thought.”
Maybe it really was magical after all – or was it just simply having the chance to see the festivities through someone else’s perceptions? Where it was easy enough in the tavern when she’d turned on that focus of hers to hunt down a bedmate like she was some wolf in the woods, or how she’d gladly allow music to soak down in her bones until she was free and dancing. Calia had a habit of being too serious, too sarcastic, too stoic. Never really allowing herself to live in moments like these, where she was surrounded by people living and loving, laughing and just enjoying themselves. Always feeling like none of it was for her, just something to watch on the outskirts.
Now, it was very difficult not to feed off the energy and enthusiasm of this tiny moonbeam elf. How could Calia not soak in the ease and breeze of it. The loud frenzied joy and the soft warmth that came from people having a thrilling time.
Of course Nova was turning out to be a marshmallow just full of romantic sentimentalities. Describing her idea of a love in such a way it actually quieted the mountain princess’ scoffing to glance at the girl with curious interest. A dream of someone unexpected. Someone to be honest and authentic with. Perfectly imperfect.
What a enchanting dream to have. Beautiful and simple, and wistfully wonderful. Bittersweet too, as didn’t matter how much Calia loved the sounds of it and could agree with every fiber of her being, such things were not for her. One would have to be open and welcoming to it, and it was pretty clear that Calia could not seem to bare her soul to anyone.
Nova, on the other hand, could absolutely have that and more.
“I don’t think you’ll need to be wasting any wishes on such a thing then,” murmured Calia with a bright smile. Patting the girl’s hand where she was clinging. “You’re already plenty open to all of the world’s possibilities. Your gent is already around the corner, likely finally coming to his senses and about to set out his own lantern in his wish for you.”
Nova blinked, her heart skipping a beat as Calia’s words settled into her thoughts. She pulled her hand away just slightly, her fingers grazing over the fabric of her sleeve as she looked at Calia, a little taken aback but with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Ah, well now,” she said, her voice light but laced with a hint of teasing, “If yah say so, then I suppose I’ll just have to wait around the corner myself, all ready for him to come to his senses.”
She chuckled, the soft sound escaping her, before her gaze sweetened. “But yah’re right, in a way. I do try to stay open to the world, to its surprises. Life’s too short to close off to what it has to offer.”
They continued walking down the bustling boardwalk, the sound of music drifting on the evening breeze, blending with the hum of voices and the occasional burst of laughter. More lanterns were taking to the sky, casting their soft, magical glow over the crowd. The air smelled of saltwater and the sweet tang of caramelized sugar from a nearby stall, where a vendor was tossing hot fritters into the air for eager customers.
As they drew closer to the pier, eyes lit up, and she pointed toward a stall at the end of the boardwalk. It was practically overflowing with all sorts of floating lanterns, their delicate frames shimmering in the soft glow of the evening. Each one was different—some were simple, just a soft white glow, while others were vibrant and colorful, with intricate designs carved into their surfaces. There were lanterns shaped like flowers, others like stars, and even a few with tiny little painted birds that seemed to flutter in the wind. The ones that were of glass seemed to be fewer this year but that was neither here nor there. Nova’s grin widened as she turned to Calia. “Maybe that’s where we’ll find yours. What do yah say?”
As they approached the stall, Nova nudged Calia with her elbow, her voice light. “And after we light our lanterns, how about we grab ourselves a drink? I’ve heard there’s a spot just down the way with the best spiced wine in all of Tír Élas. I think it’s only fair we celebrate this whole business, yeah?”
She raised an eyebrow playfully. “I’ll treat yah, of course. Can’t go wishin’ for the right lantern and then not celebrate with a proper drink after.”
“Wait in the right spot and he ought to trip right over you,” she laughed, easily. A wicked joke perhaps at the expense of a short girl, but all in good natured humor. This girl was not going to have a shortage of good choices at all, nothing she would ever need to worry about. Calia was pretty confident that when she was ready to settle down with someone, she’d use all of that personality of hers to have the man woefully stupid in love.
They’d found one of the lantern stalls and it took all of her will power not to brush this off as extremely silly. Struggling with her own sense of not wanting to take a lick of it seriously, when she was pretty sure she’d spotted a lantern or two in the back with some very vaguely dick-like patterns in the paper. Calia could win the bet on what that wish was for!
“You’re going to leave the minding of those poor pies all to Alden, then?” laughed Calia. “That’s not a no, by the way. Can’t say I’ve ever turned down a free drink.”
As for choosing a lantern, she did want to take it seriously. As serious as one could for a little object that was going to be launched into the air and meet it’s end in the sea. At least Calia knew plain and simple was not for her, not for a little trick of something that was meant to be magical and full of dreams. Only she did not know what she was all about either. Full of her own flurry of contradictions and conflicting aesthetics. She was fire and ice, moon and sun. Of the green and of the mountain. All of everything and yet still somehow full of nothing.
And in trying to take it seriously, it inevitably felt so stupid and pointless. Bringing her up against that wall again of not understanding what was so wrong with her, that she couldn’t just do a simple thing for what it was.
“…I should have done a good bit of drinking first, how is anyone going to feel out the right one when there are so many?”
“That’s the back up plan.” Nova replied so readily, offering that wide grin like she was truly serious about it. The idea of just standing in the right spot to knock over anyone she thought particularly interesting. Although she wouldn’t care for the bruises of being bulldozed over. Regardless she shared a giggle about it before all attention shifted to the stall before them.
Releasing Calia so she might prance up. Noting there were a few others taking their time eying down the variety of items whilst Calia queried her about leaving all the pies to Alden. The musical sound of the human girl adding another layer of ambience to the sensation of the night, whilst shrugging playfully. “He knows what he’s doin’ and I’m bein’ a grand host and friend by takin’ yah out and about amongst the festivities! He’ll be fine.” Waving off the idea that she had in fact left so much work without a moment’s notice. Making it not such a serious problem because it hardly was to her.
Now she was ready to pick a lantern to release once more and that meant a severe level of concentration.
She started with the simplest ones, her fingers gently brushing against the smooth surface of a round white lantern. It was beautiful in its simplicity, the soft light from within casting a faint, warm glow. But Nova tilted her head and pursed her lips, shaking her head slightly. “A bit too plain for me, I think,” she murmured to herself.
She moved on, her gaze settling on a lantern that seemed to shimmer with a silver-blue hue, its surface etched with swirling patterns that almost seemed to move in the light. She picked it up and held it between her hands, staring at the intricate carvings. The designs resembled the waves of the sea, flowing endlessly, and something in her heart stirred. It reminded her of the ocean, of quiet nights by the water, of longing for something beyond.
But she hesitated. “It’s pretty… but maybe too much like a dream,” she said softly, almost to the lantern itself.
Only that ears lifted to hear Calia talking and pulling her attention to the woman. “Ah, I know the feeling,” she said with a playful smile. “It’s like trying to pick the right flower in a whole field, isn’t it? A bit overwhelming. Though I reckon the right one picks yah, not the other way around.”
She tilted her head, the soft glow of lanterns lighting up her face as she added, “Maybe a bit of drink would help, though—clear the mind and loosen the heart, eh? But who knows, sometimes the best lantern is the one that doesn’t make yah think too hard. Though this ain’t a test, it’s just fun. If it’s too hard for yah, don’t feel forced to do it either.” The silver haired girl shrugged her shoulders, “It’s supposed to be whimsical and fun and light. If it’s more of a mind game and yer tryin’ to force it, then it’s not the time either! None of this is supposed to be perfect after all, just an event.”
Oh the wicked grin she gave at the idea of Nova just waiting around corners to trip anyone that caught her fancy. It was enough to elicit another laugh while she waited a moment to watch the woman go about her own choosing. See if there really was a trick to it or if there was just the matter of tastes. Watching how she’d touch and examine, even her verbal refusals on why they weren’t quite right.
Grinning a bit in mirth and embarrassment, at the mention that Calia shouldn’t have to think too hard. This wasn’t a test, after all. Why did it matter if Calia picked the right one, or the perfect one.
“I see, if it is meant to be fun…” she mused out loud, straightening up from where she was looking to then place hand over her eyes. “Make sure I don’t topple anyone!” Came her only warning!
Calia did a slow turn, one, two, three times until she was facing back towards the displays and shelves again. Only faltering in her steps once when her shin hit the corner of a table and she let out a small curse. Holding out her hand with a wiggle of fingers, to tap into this nonsense of magic and whimsy! Perhaps making a show of it for Nova’s sake, listening intently for any ooos, gasps, or even giggles when she’d hover hand or touch finger to the frame of this lantern or that.
Accidentally touching a person or two in the process and in the moment not caring a bit if they found it annoying or not. This silliness was now entertaining herself.
“I think I am getting closer, but please do scream if I touch anything that has a spider on it, because I will drown myself in the ocean if I ever meet another handsome spider.”
Nova straightened up quickly, placing a hand over her heart in mock solemnity as Calia announced her impending chaos. “Right! I solemnly swear to protect the innocent and prevent yah from takin’ out any unsuspectin’ festival-goers with that majestic flailin’ of yours,” she said, eyes twinkling.
She stepped just a little closer, hovering like a self-appointed guardian of public safety, all while still grinning like this was the best part of her evening.
A few nearby patrons had turned to watch, curiosity giving way to amused smiles as they took in the tall human girl’s exaggerated movements and Nova’s giggling commentary. One older elf woman snorted behind her hand. A younger couple near the back shelf exchanged grins, the lad nudging his partner and whispering something that made her laugh under her breath.
When Calia cursed from the table bump, Nova winced with a sympathetic hiss. “Oof—yah’ll be wearin’ that bruise like a badge of destiny.”
Then came the comment about handsome spiders, and Nova gasped—loud, theatrical, horrified. She clutched at her chest like Calia had uttered a forbidden curse. “Oh saints above, no! Don’t even joke! A handsome dryder?” Her face scrunched, a full-body shudder running through her. “That’s not love or a one off, that’s a wakin’ nightmare in a waistcoat.”
She shook her head vehemently, but couldn’t help the laugh that followed, bright and clear as ever. “If yah end up flirtin’ with a spider, I will personally drag yah to the sea and let the tide sort it out.”
Then with a grin, stepping lightly around another shelf, she nodded. “Go on, though. I can feel it too—there’s a lantern with your name on it. Just… maybe don’t let it have eight legs.”
At the absolute horrified gasp and Nova’s vehement declarations about dryders, Calia forgot all about the need for being right and proper and just cackled! Full on delighted laughter that earned her shin another hard bump into the side of a table, rough enough to hear all the contents rustling and jingling.
“I hope it wasn’t destiny calling my name that day, by way of a pretty face and obsidian legs, cause I did meet one in the mountains and he wanted me to be the mother of his creepy crawling children!” Calia would tell that tale till the day she died, as never in her life had she been so jumped-scared by somebody that had the most beautiful of face only to discovered the nightmare down lower. “I’m serious, Nova, don’t let me touch anything looking necromantic either, else he’ll be crawling his arachnid body out of his grave to be his nightmare bride.”
The mountain princess was giggling herself now with the sheer nonsense of it all. With time running out on this silliness because she couldn’t just stumble around with her eyes closed all night. Not if others wanted a chance to come pick out of their own lanterns.
So it was time to be real. Make a choice. Throw caution to the wind and see where she landed.
With a quick turn and a snatch, she plucked one up off the very bottom of the shelves, tucked in some little corner not likely to ever be noticed. It wasn’t exactly intentional, but it felt pretty apt. When Calia opened her eyes to examine the thing, she was met with a simple ivory paper lantern with the silhouette of a great tree with long winding roots all around it’s base, and big stretching branches spreading out at the top. It was simple and perfectly acceptable.
Yet when she shifted and the paper was caught in the light of fire torches, it turned out that ivory paper was not so plain. The fire made hidden colors and stars shine through, like a prism or a nebula. Genuinely such a surprise that she stood there blinking stunned at it, not sure what to say about it at all!
She was already half-doubled over laughing when Calia bumped her shin again, the clatter of the table’s contents just adding fuel to her mirth. But the moment Calia launched into her tale of the dryder suitor in the mountains, Nova lost it.
“Isyn preserve us!” she wheezed between bursts of laughter, one hand pressed to her ribs, the other clinging to the edge of a shelf for balance. “He wanted what from yah?!” Her voice rose with incredulous delight. “Mother of a hundred leggy beasties—Calia, no!” she gasped, grinning so hard it hurt. “That’s a bloody horror ballad!”
A nearby group had tuned in fully now, barely pretending to look at the lanterns as they stifled chuckles and tried to catch every word of the absurd exchange. Finding the merriment practically infectious. A strong contrast to a elven city that would have taken the woman’s words as horrific gospel. To turn noses up and eyes wide with such blatant terrifying tales. Here, no one minded! No one stopped to question or worry or press. It was all in good fun and no one getting uppity about something someone said!
Nova wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still giggling as Calia warned her off necromantic decorations. “I swear on the tide, if I so much as see a lantern with a bone motif, I’ll tackle yah before yah get within breathin’ distance! We are not raisin’ the dead for a second date!”
The ridiculousness, the giddy sort of delight in the air, it all stirred something warm in Nova’s chest—like childhood memories of festival nights mixed with the wonder of seeing someone else embracing the feeling of freedom and fun for the first time.
And then, in a moment of surprising quiet, Calia turned, reached, and picked something unseen from the very bottom shelf. Nova straightened, her laughter still fading off her lips, stepping closer as her friend uncurled her fingers around the chosen lantern.
“Oh,” she breathed softly.
The ivory paper looked plain enough at first glance—humble, tucked-away—but in the wash of firelight, it came alive with the soft glow of nebula hues and secret stars. The great tree silhouette stretched across it like a guardian spirit, roots winding deep, branches reaching far. It was quiet wonder.
Nova blinked, then let out a soft, awed laugh. “Well now… would yah look at that?” she murmured, voice gentle. “A little thing tucked away where no one thought to look, and it’s been carryin’ a whole sky inside it all along.” She smiled at Calia then, eyes warm and proud. “I think it’s perfect. Just like yah were meant to find it.”
She turned back to the display, eyes flicking across the shelves, “Can’t let yah just stand there a moment, let me find one!” Some lanterns were bold and bright—swirls of gold and crimson, intricate patterns, calligraphy spells in looping ink. Others were shaped like sea creatures or moons or the flowers of distant provinces. But she didn’t reach for any of those.
Instead, she crouched down low near the middle shelf, her fingers closed gently around a soft blue lantern with a faded silver ribbon tied around the top. The paper was pressed with little waves and shorelines, stitched along the edges in glimmering thread, like someone had tried to bottle the memory of an ocean breeze. At the center, barely visible until the light hit it right, was the shadow of a lighthouse—tiny, barely more than a suggestion—and beside it, the faint curve of a figure, standing alone at the cliffs.
Nova smiled faintly, tracing the design with her thumb. “This one’ll do,” she said, her voice quiet but sure. Nova hesitated for just a moment before gently setting her lantern down on the counter. To reach into her pocket, fingers brushing the smooth surface of a small, polished stone—one she’d carried for years. It was a soft shade of pale green, almost translucent, and worn smooth from years of use.
With a quiet breath, she picked it up and placed it beside her lantern. The stone had been a gift from her grandmother, a small token from the forest that had always made her feel grounded, like she was tied to something bigger than herself. It wasn’t much, just a piece of nature, but it had been a constant companion since she was young.
“I’ve carried this with me a long time,” Nova said softly, almost to herself as she gazed at the stone. She glanced up at all the other lanterns. To the other people, her eyes warm and melted saccharine. “It’s part of me, and I reckon it’s time it found somewhere else to be. It’ll work well as a payment.” Others watched silently as Nova stepped back, her heart a little lighter for the gesture, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over her as she made the exchange.
“Well then,” she said with a half-smile, turning to Calia. “Shall we? The sea is waitin’ for us.”
Calia was absolutely, one hundred percent, NOT going to start crying about a pretty paper lantern. She refused. There was no reason to be tearful over something simply because, out of some strange twist of coincidence, it was a pretty little treasure. In fact, it was a shame she’d have to put a fire in it and send it out to sea, for it was a piece of art!
“Coincidence,” she reiterated the though out loud. Calia wasn’t putting it back, though. Cradling it in her hands while she watched Nova take a far more appropriate search of her own.
Another pretty thing to be sure, though not something she might have thought would be for the girl. A shadow of the lighthouse and a figure, all alone. It was melancholy in a way and so opposite to the beaming energetic girl. Calia made no comment about it, though. Remaining curious as Nova pulled out the little stone and explained it’d been a gift from her grandmother that she’d held onto for all of this time.
“Are you sure you want to give something so precious up now?” Calia asked with genuine curiosity. “You could still hold onto it for awhile yet? Stick with tying that over abundance of flowers you mentioned before?”
Fingers reached and lingered over the polished stone, her gaze softening as she looked at it one last time, a quiet smile curling at the corners of her lips. The stone had been a constant companion, a piece of her past, a small but meaningful gift from her grandmother. It was familiar, comforting even, like this very place she’d grown up in, but Nova knew it was time to let go.
“I suppose it’s a bit like the lanterns,” she said thoughtfully, her voice gentle, almost reflective. “Sometimes, we hold onto things because they’ve been with us so long that we forget what they really mean. We cling to them because they’re familiar, but holdin’ onto everythin’ with an iron grip? It doesn’t always do us any favors.” She met Calia’s gaze, her eyes steady. “Not everythin’ that’s precious needs to be kept locked tight.”
She held the stone out for a moment, examining it in the light before gently setting it back onto the counter. “Lettin’ go isn’t about losin’ somethin’,” she continued, her voice soft, but sure. “It’s about makin’ room for what’s new, what’s comin’ next. I think sometimes we have to trust that the things we give away will find their own place, and we don’t always need them to stay with us forever.”
A fond, distant look passed over her face, and a gentle chuckle followed. “Grandma would’ve said the same thing, I think. She always used to tell me, ‘Nothing stays the same forever, child. Yah’ve got to learn to let go of what’s passed so you can make room for what’s comin’.’ She wasn’t one to hold onto things just for the sake of it. She’d say, ‘Yer not losin’ anythin’, not really. Yer just passin’ it on, lettin’ it carry on its journey, like the winds or the river.’”
Nova shook her head slightly, a warm smile forming. “I always thought she was a little mad for sayin’ that, but the older I get, the more it makes sense. Holdin’ on to everything too tightly—that’s what makes us feel stuck. It’s okay to let go. It’s all part of the flow.”
She looked back at Calia then, her eyes clear, as if she had truly understood something. “Grandma would’ve told me I’m doin’ the right thing. And… I think she’d be happy to see me sharin’ it now.”
She had given up something dear, but in doing so, she felt a quiet sense of peace settle over her. She didn’t need to hold on to everything. Some things were meant to float away, just like the lanterns.
There was plenty of wisdom there that Calia could recognize at face value. Appreciate even, as one didn’t want to hold on to things forever even when it wasn’t serving your life anymore. It felt like something she used to live by, surely, as it wasn’t as if Calia had ever connected so deeply to a thing or a person where she’d want to hold tight to it.
Now she literally had nothing and was reaching out to grasp for anything and mostly just finding that anger and bitterness. A thing that surely needed to be let go, and still it lingered in her.
It was a nice sentiment though, leaving Calia giving a thoughtful hum. That to let something go meant allowing something new in, and that new thing didn’t have to be something terrible. Even terrible things seemed to be the way her luck was going. She cast an examining look at the other different sorts of lanterns and the people that were inching around searching for their own little vessel to add their trinkets to.
This custom had a lot of layers to it. Layers built upon over ages to create a tradition that was rich in it’s own magic. Calia could see that now, despite the fact she was certain that the point was still flying over her head. Just like all the wishes and dreams of these people.
“Can I take this with me?” she asked gesturing with her own lantern. “I still don’t know what I’m going to send it off with, and I’d like to light it and do it myself besides.”
She wasn’t preaching or telling or trying to lecture much of anything. Just giving an a broader idea to who she was and the general means of her own thoughts. Shortly smiling when Calia seemed to take some thought about her words and they didn’t need to feud over semantics. But then again, she personally wasn’t overly the conflicting sort.
Obviously more of the happy go lucky one that was thinking on the brightside of almost every interaction. This was hardly going to be any less.
Especially when the girl asked if she could still take the lantern. Invoking Nova’s beaming toothy grin and a grand hum that indicated that she was still allowed to do so. “Not everyone has something to send off in a physical sense. Sometimes just thoughts is enough.” No one around them seemed to be whispering or conspiring in gossipy suggestions that they were shocked that Calia wasn’t going to leave something else. No one cared.
They too were here to pick out the lantern they wanted and that was their focus. Everyone having a good time!
With a bit of care, she worked the ribbon on her lantern to slide the pebble into. Cinching it closed so it wouldn’t fall out before bouncing on feet. Cradling the precious vessel to chest with the bronze rings reflecting the lights all around them. The sway of music in the very close distance only adding a level of charm that made her all the more springy! “Come on, love.” Nova skipped a few paces to indicate they were on the move again. “Let’s just go over to that yonder edge of the walkway and we can send these babies off.” Tapping said baby for emphasis. “Then that drink and dancin’ too. Ain’t nothing like dancin’ on the sand under the open stars. It’ll be left in yer memories forever!”
If all it took was intent and thoughts, then damn, Calia had those to spare. A thousand thoughts, some might even be worth something if they ever found their way out of her. And without the weight of someone around giving her judging side-eye, making snide remarks, or just overall being disappointed with her, it was far easier for Calia to leave it be and let herself not judge herself for it too.
Once Nova secured her little pebble stone with her lantern, the minx was quick as a whip to start dashing off an Calia herself had to spring after her with quick steps to stay at her side. Nova really was just a bundle of energy! Lightning inside a small body! An infectious and distracting thing doing well at keeping Calia on her own toes and not slipping too deeply into all of the things she was presently worried over.
Oh they were still there, swirling in the back of her mind, but at least it was not out on the surface painting her as this tall, dark, brooding thing menacing the festival.
“Drinking and dancing too! Then we really are about to have a good time, then!” Calia chimed back with a soft huff of laughter. “Hopefully with plenty of people there to fall over you, or for you. Depending on how the night treats you.”
As feet struck that of the wooden planks and Calia spoke up about how they were truly about to spend their evening in quite the fanfare, she turned. Silver hair fluttering about her like a halo, cast in lantern and moon light. Making the irises burn against the fair features as she laughed in easy jubilance. “I would never do that, love! It’s us two tonight, no matter what fair and handsome man that comes forward, I’d never abandon a friend to spend it with one man for a night.” Her lips were pulled in a earnest grin, meaning every word. “I’m enjoyin’ my time with yah far too much and how rude of me would that be. So nope! He could be a golden god or a thief in the night, but neither or any will get me away from just spendin’ time with a friend.”
The elven woman giggled effortlessly, leading them along the dock easily. Waving at points to other people that she may have recognized or not. None of it mattered just that she was influenced by the night, the festival and the ease that came just spending it with a new pal.
As they approached the selected end of the dock, one could see the silhouettes of ships in the distance, their masts and sails dark against the shimmering horizon. Having docked further out as not to crowd the very place they walked upon, leaving it to the hubbub of a active festival.
“The ships are out there tonight, further out in the bay,” Nova murmured, her gaze drawn to the shadows of the vessels, their presence so graceful yet haunting in the stillness. “Normally they’d be right here, docked in the harbor. It’s kind of beautiful… the way they loom in the distance, like silent guardians of the bay.”
She smiled softly as she turned to face Calia, the glow of their lanterns flickering in the dim light. Nova’s hand, steady and sure, held her lantern close as she stepped toward the edge of the dock. The gentle lap of the waves against the wooden posts was the only sound, and everything else seemed distant and quiet, as if the whole world had paused for a moment.
“Feels like the perfect place to let our wishes go, doesn’t it?” Nova said, her voice low and thoughtful. “Out here, where the world is so still. Just the sea, the ships, and us.” She placed her lantern down carefully, watching the soft glow catch the light of the torches along the dock. “It’s beautiful, how everything blends together… the shadow of the ships, the moonlight, the way the water sparkles like stars.”
She looked over at Calia, her eyes reflecting the serenity of the moment. “This is the kind of place where I think wishes can truly take flight.”
With a deep breath, Nova lifted her lantern up. Perching it on the edge of fingers and for a moment, it just sat there. A silence. Turning gingerly over to where Nova leaned close to blow on the canvas of her lantern. Tipping it from fingers and letting it fall! Only momentarily for it to catch the salty air and ignite into a bright bursting glow! Catching and rising and perhaps telling now that there was in fact a little bit of magic in them.
What a vehement declaration that she wouldn’t dare abandon Calia in favor of a handsome man, sending the taller girl into another easy laugh. Not doubt that Nova believed it with all her heart and she’d certainly try, but Calia herself wouldn’t let the girl miss out on an opportunity if destiny suddenly decided to throw her one true love right at her feet. It’d sure as hell make her a believer in all of this grand beautiful nonsense.
“You remind me of my sister,” she told her softly, with a sort of aching fondness. Talk about having to let something go! Her family as she knew it was gone, her entire life. Now here she was with a bright little minx that she just knew could give Araminta’s blathering a run for her money. “My elder sister was very much like you. Full of inspiration and joy, and so much love for even just the simplest of things. It used to irritate the hell out of me, cause how could someone actually see the good in everything all of the time? Now I miss it.”
Calia went silent, mostly to spare herself the lump trying to lodge itself in her throat, to tilt her head and watch this moonbeam of an elf make her own silent wish. Expecting a flint or a match to help light the thing, but finding that promise of a little magic in the lanterns not just being a tale told to children. It ignited into it’s soft warm glow when she dropped it, catching it’s paper walls in the wind by whatever science and magic that was keeping it a float. Sending it off into a slow graceful bob towards the open waters of the cerulean sea.
She glanced down at the lantern in her own hands, the black tree whose roots dug deep and branches stretching high. Calia had a thousand things she could wish for, but there was really only one thing she needed.
Hope. Just the tiniest little ember, that’s all. Calia would do the work, fan the flames, make it burn bright for herself and everyone else around her. She just needed that one tiny spark to believe in.
A heavy sigh and a lift of her hands, where she pulled at any magic, fae or otherwise that might still linger in her to breathe it out onto the perfectly shaped lantern. Breathing life to it when she released it off on it’s way. Almost having a jolt of fear when it dropped towards the water before it burst into a gentle light just like the elven girl’s. Where finally with it’s tiny fire, all of those beautiful galaxy stars were shimmering away in hues of pinks and purples and blues.
Magic truly was the most beautiful thing in the world! Even in these simple little lanterns.
Nova’s smile softened, her gaze gentle as she listened to Calia’s words. She could hear the bittersweetness in them, the love wrapped in loss. There was something tender in the way Calia spoke, and Nova could feel it in her heart—a quiet ache that resonated deep within her.
“Yah know,” Nova began, her voice light but warm, “Sometimes it’s easy to get lost in all the heaviness, all the things we can’t control. But maybe that’s the point of joy, isn’t it? To hold onto the little things, the simple things, even when everythin’ else feels uncertain. It’s like… like a way to keep the light alive, even in the darkest of times.”
Her eyes met Calia’s then, the sincerity in her gaze shining through. “I know I can be a bit… bubbly, but it’s not because I don’t see the hard stuff. I do. I just think there’s always room for a bit of brightness, a bit of love, even in the hardest moments. Yer sister sounds like she knew that, too.”
Nova paused for a moment, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “And don’t worry, I’m sure I’d be more than happy to give yer sister’s blatherin’ a good run for its money—though I’m sure yah’ve got some stories that could rival mine!”
Watching as Calia’s lantern lifted gently into the night sky, its glow soft and steady against the backdrop of the moonlit sea. The delicate rise of it seemed to mirror the words she’d spoken—like a quiet release, a letting go of burdens into the vastness of the world. It was a beautiful thing to witness, as the lantern began its journey into the night, carried on the gentle breeze, flickering with a soft promise of hope.
Her gaze lingered on it for a moment before she turned back to the other girl, her smile both tender and sincere. “Look at it go,” Saying it softly, her voice almost a whisper, “Just like that, it’s free. It’s like everythin’ we carry, all the memories, the love, and even the hurt… it all has its own place to go, its own time to rise. Maybe it’s not always clear where it goes, but there’s somethin’ comfortin’ in knowin’ that lettin’ go can bring us to somethin’ better. We just have to recognize when it’s there and accept it for what it is!”
She reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, watching the stars twinkle above them, the lantern now another speck of light dancing between the heavens and the earth. “Just like that lantern… yer not alone, Calia. Whatever yah need to release, just know there’s always something new to be found in the lettin’ go.”
Nova’s words held an air of quiet certainty, her eyes reflecting the same warmth she always carried, and there was a quiet hope in her heart that perhaps this moment, this shared silence, was a small light for both of them to carry forward. “Yah know,” she said, her voice light with warmth, “we’ve let go of our wishes, and now it’s time for somethin’ a little less… serious.”
She grinned eagerly, her eyes twinkling with the same energy that always seemed to surround her. “How about we go get that drink? I think we’ve both earned a little fun, don’t yah?”
She gave Calia’s hand another squeeze, a playful spark in her voice. “Let’s see if we can find some new stories to share, eh? The night’s just getting’ started.”
It was a quiet bewildering thing to stand there watching the lanterns float off towards the greater sea, soon to mingle with the others until whose lantern was whose could no longer be distinguished. Listening to this elven girl do her absolute best to instill Calia with some sort of comfort. That very spark of hope she was wishing for. She didn’t really feel any different, no grand epiphany suddenly struck her making the world make sense again. But she could admit, that at least in that tiny moment she did feel a little lighter. That she could believe the words Nova spoke were true if she would just give it the chance.
And oh so naturally the girl could break any tension or threatening looming of a good brood, just by nature of being her bubbly self. Sending Calia into a fresh laugh and a quick affirming nod.
Letting the moonbeam elf lead her off to sandy beach festivities that were surely not the sort that would create any wild stories. Just big soaring bonfires with herbs tossed in them to help change their color and hue. Live music right there on the sands with such an eclectic range of instruments that Calia was certain people just showed up with them and just played whatever seemed to be the vibe. There was a free flow of that spiced wine Nova mentioned, though Calia didn’t drink much of it. Not being able to stand the thought of getting messy drunk and leaving the girl out there on her own when she’d made such a fuss about keeping Calia company.
At some point she’d tossed off her boots to do that dancing around the fire, letting music do the job that words couldn’t in letting go. To be every much a free wilding daughter, of the mountains, of the fae, of whatever she came from! Hating how sand got into everything, while loving it at the same time simply because it was a new feeling. The memories made were not the likes of fancy palace balls and grand spectacles, but they were still good nonetheless due to that very simplicity. Something warm and cozy and sweet to hold with her in the coming days where things were sure to be dark again.
Calia did not take someone to bed that night, having spent the entire majority of her time with the elven girl just being silly girls. When Nova had to go on back to her own home, Calia lingered out on the beach, sitting in the sand and watching all of the lanterns as they drifted farther and farther out of sight.
When everything had grown quiet and still, she finally took herself back to the tavern to her room and fell into bed. Staring up at that ceiling with a bittersweet ache and ironically a wistful hope that those lanterns really did have a magic in them. To send her anything. Anyone. Something that was worth believing in so she could be more than just alive. To help her find something worth living for.