Team 3: Luca, Julian, Kael, Brell
The accessory street glittered with trinkets, shiny baubles, and strange magical toys. Luca's eyes darted from stall to stall like a squirrel spotting nuts.
"Oooh! Look, look!" He stopped in front of a stall selling spinning tops and crystal balls. One toy, in particular, had a small orb with faint sparks dancing inside. "This one looks awesome! It must be rare!"
The old shopkeep leaned forward, his crooked teeth showing. "Sharp eyes, little one! That's no ordinary toy—this is the Storm Orb! Channel a little mana, and it'll flash lightning! For you, just 350 Narr."
Luca's eyes widened, clutching his pouch. He was about to hand over the money—
Julian caught his wrist. "Hold it. That's nothing but a cheap crystal with glow powder." He turned the orb around, tapping a hidden seam. A faint rattle came from inside. "A pebble chamber. Classic scam."
The shopkeeper paled. "W-wait—"
Kael stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the stall. His scar glinted as he growled, "Selling trash to a child? That's punishable."
Brell raised his spear slightly, his usually gentle face sharp with authority. "We could have you detained."
The man fell to his knees. "Mercy! Just trying to make ends meet!"
Julian sighed. "We'll let it slide. But scam a child again, and you'll regret it."
Luca pouted, cheeks puffed. "I wanted it…"
Julian crouched to his level, smiling faintly. "You wanted to waste money. Big difference." To soften the blow, he bought cotton candy from a nearby stall and handed it over.
"Ehh? Fluffy cloud?" Luca tilted his head. One bite, and his sulky expression melted into bliss. "Mmm!"
Julian also offered some to Kael and Brell.
Kael crossed his arms. "Candy floss is for children. I don't—" He trailed off as Brell silently accepted his and immediately began nibbling like he hadn't eaten in days.
Kael blinked. "…You actually…"
Brell's ears turned red, but he said nothing, munching quietly.
Kael smirked, unable to resist. "If you stay that childish, you'll always be a virgin."
Brell froze mid-bite, his face flushing scarlet. "I—That—!"
Julian suppressed a laugh.
But Luca perked up, curious. "What's a virgin? I asked once before, but Father scolded me."
The three adults stiffened.
Kael coughed. "You'll know when you're older."
"Older how much?"
"When you're tall enough to beat me in a duel," Kael deflected.
"Ehh?" Luca narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
He took it out on his cotton candy, chomping wildly until sugar stuck to his cheeks.
Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed nearby. CRACK—CRACK!
They turned to see a street performance underway. A group of three acrobats stood in the middle of a square: one with two whips snapping the ground, another balancing on a stack of barrels, and the last juggling lit torches.
Crowds gathered. The whipmaster cracked the air, making patterns with each strike. The juggler tossed the flaming torches higher and higher, until one almost brushed the rooftop. Then, in a seamless motion, the barrel-balancer cartwheeled across the stack and landed in a handstand—on top of the juggler's shoulders!
The crowd gasped.
"Whoa!!" Luca shouted, hopping up and down. "That's awesome!"
The juggler kept tossing, the flames reflecting in his determined eyes. The whipmaster cracked a strike so close it blew out one torch, then relit it with another strike, the crowd roaring in amazement.
Finally, for the finale, all three joined forces—the whipmaster created sharp cracks as rhythm, the juggler tossed the torches sky-high, and the balancer flipped midair to catch one torch in his teeth while landing in a bow.
The square exploded with applause.
Luca clapped until his hands hurt. "Encore! Encore!!"
The group bowed deeply, smiling at the scattered coins thrown their way.
Julian reached into his pouch and gave them a few silver coins. Kael, with a sigh, tossed his in as well, trying to look nonchalant. Brell gave a quiet tip too.
Luca held out his empty hands. "Julian! I need coins too!"
Julian raised a brow. "For what?"
"So I can throw them! It's part of the performance!!"
Julian sighed and flicked a coin at his forehead before handing him a few. Luca beamed, proudly tossing them into the performer's hat.
Kael, watching Luca grin, muttered, "I could pull off that kind of act too, if I wanted."
Brell, still chewing on the last of his cotton candy, murmured, "That's funny. You can't even juggle apples without dropping one."
Kael's head snapped toward him. "OI!"
Luca burst into laughter, nearly choking on his sugar cloud.
"Now I look bad in front of a kid!"
Kael groaned, covering his face.
-----
After the performance, Luca's eyes shone with leftover excitement. "Let's play something too! I wanna try a game!!"
They passed by a stall where festival-goers were crowding around. The game was simple: a big board was hung with small moving targets—wooden ducks, painted suns, and little spinning stars. Each person got three beanbags, and if you hit three stars in a row, you won a prize.
"Pfft. Child's play," Kael said, puffing his chest. "I'll show you how it's done."
He bought a set of beanbags, squared his stance, and—missed the first duck by a wide margin. The crowd chuckled. He tried again, barely grazing the second. His last throw wobbled and hit a completely wrong target.
"...." Kael froze.
"PFFFF—!!" Luca burst into uncontrollable laughter. "Big scary knight can't even hit a duck!!"
Julian smirked. "Not much of a marksman, huh?"
Brell stepped up next, silently buying beanbags. Without any flourish, he threw three quick shots. THUNK, THUNK, THUNK! All three stars were down. The crowd cheered, and the shopkeeper handed him a small stuffed rabbit doll.
"…..I didn't want it." Brell muttered, holding it awkwardly.
Kael scowled. "Pure luck!"
Julian tried next. His first two shots hit cleanly, but the third just barely missed the moving target. He sighed. "Guess I'm out of practice."
Finally, Luca took his turn. His beanbags were far too big for his little hands, so his throws were wild—but by sheer luck, one smacked right into a spinning star. The other two landed nowhere near.
"ONE POINT!" Luca cheered, raising both hands like he'd won.
The shopkeeper laughed and gave him a small wooden top as a consolation prize. Luca was beaming, spinning it right there on the stall's counter.
Kael grumbled under his breath, still salty. Brell hugged his stuffed rabbit tighter to his chest. Julian just shook his head, amused.
And with that, team 3's afternoon fun wrapped up in laughter, mockery, and a little pride.
Team 1: Lilith, Ren, Moreau, Saria
Meanwhile, Lilith was still trapped in the clutches of the blabbering old mayor.
"…and that is why the Sunpetal blooms facing east, a reflection of our cultural prosperity, just as in the year of—"
Lilith snapped. She grabbed a cake from the plate and shoved it right into his open mouth. "We can see the festival with our own eyes. Keep your old eyes to yourself."
The man gagged on sugar, left dumbfounded as Lilith swept past with Ren, Moreau, and Saria following.
Ren chuckled. "That was brutal."
Moreau coughed politely. "Direct, at the very least."
Saria snorted. "I kinda liked it."
They moved on to accessory stalls. Lilith played her privilege card mercilessly, shopkeepers falling over themselves to offer discounts just for her smile. She bought hairpins, rings, and a necklace for a fraction of their worth. Ren picked up some adventuring trinkets—charms for stamina, a new dagger sheath.
At one stall, Moreau turned to Saria. "You've got an eye for details. Pick me a bracelet."
Saria blinked, then smirked. "Sure, Captain. Something to match that heroic look of yours." He picked a simple leather band with a tiny emerald set into the clasp. It suited Moreau more than anyone expected.
As they admired their new accessories, they spotted a familiar face.
Scribe Elmar.
"Ahh…" Moreau straightened. "Scribe Elmar."
Saria gave a respectful nod. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Elmar smiled stiffly, then spotted Lilith. His smile faltered. "Lady Lilith. I see you've… settled in well. Though, ah… certain tastes in interior decoration nearly tore through this month's budget."
Lilith's eyes gleamed. "Oh? That sounds like a management issue. Shouldn't the TRB be more organized?"
Elmar stiffened. "I—I had to approve it myself, actually."
"And yet," Lilith tilted her head, voice dripping with teasing sweetness, "you're here enjoying the festival instead of working."
Caught off guard, Elmar stammered, "I… have business here!"
His excuse was flimsy. Lilith pounced. She leaned closer with a mock-innocent smile. "You wouldn't leave an acquainted lady alone in a festival, would you? And surely you wouldn't forget her companions either?"
Ren snorted, covering his mouth. Moreau and Saria exchanged looks, trying not to laugh.
The next moment, Elmar found himself seated in a fancy restaurant, staring down at plates of delicate dishes with prices higher than their weight in gold. Lilith delicately sampled each one, savoring every bite with a mischievous smile, while Ren, Moreau, and Saria joined in happily.
By the end, Elmar's purse was significantly lighter, and his soul nearly crushed.
Lilith dabbed her lips with a napkin and stood. "Well, I wouldn't want to disrupt your business. You can go now."
Elmar slumped, utterly defeated, as Lilith glided away with her group.
Ren whistled low. "You're terrifying."
Saria grinned. "I think I'm in love."
Moreau sighed. "…She's trouble."
Lilith only smirked.
-------
Fishing competition
The grand carp still flopped in Gareth's container, splashing water everywhere while Thorne laughed and flexed at the crowd like he was the one who caught it. The Fish Shaman's reputation was still sky-high—each time his line twitched, the crowd roared like he was a hero in the middle of battle.
Then Gareth's rod bent again. He planted his feet and yanked with both arms. The line was taut, water splashing—spectators hushed, leaning forward—then something green and slimy broke the surface.
A frog. 🐸
A fat, croaking, utterly unimpressed frog dangling on the hook.
The crowd erupted into howls of laughter.
"HE CAUGHT A FROG!"
"A WARRIOR OF THE SWAMP, EH?!"
Even Thorne doubled over. "Hahah! A grand hunter of frogs! Careful, Gareth, it might eat you alive!"
Gareth grimaced, plucking the frog loose and tossing it back into the water as his pride smoldered.
The competition carried on. The Fish Shaman's rhythm faltered—he went quiet for several minutes without a catch, tension rising among the locals who were rooting for him. Then, at last, his line jerked violently. The water churned where it struck.
"The GRAND prize! He's got it!" someone screamed.
At that exact moment, Thorne's rod bent too. His eyes lit up. "Gareth, I've got something!"
Two strings, two rods—both tugging toward the same churning spot in the pond.
The crowd went wild.
"Did they hook the same fish?!"
"Or each other?!"
"Pull with me!" Thorne shouted, digging in his heels. Gareth grabbed the rod alongside him, bracing his body like he was hauling a siege weapon.
On the other side, the Fish Shaman roared as locals crowded to help him. On Thorne's side, some fellow travelers and festival-goers joined in, forming a tug-of-war across the pond.
"PULL!"
"HEAVE!!"
"DON'T LET HIM HAVE IT!"
The fishing contest had transformed into a full-blown rope-pulling battle—locals versus travelers, both sides straining, voices booming, water splashing.
For a moment, both lines seemed equally strong. The pond itself trembled with the tugging. Then—SNAP!
The shaman's hook ripped free. His side collapsed backward in a comedic heap, tumbling into the mud.
And on Thorne's side—SPLASHHH!! A massive silver-scaled beast exploded from the pond, arcing through the air like a living cannonball. The legendary carp, nearly twenty pounds, gleamed in the sunlight before crashing into Gareth's container, nearly knocking it over.
The crowd erupted. Cheers thundered like a battlefield victory.
"He did it!!"
"The outsiders caught the grand prize!!"
Thorne raised his arms in triumph, already basking in glory. Gareth just stood, drenched and breathless, holding onto the line like it was a lifeline. The giant carp flopped violently, but the container held.
The judge stepped forward, voice booming: "THE GRAND PRIZE IS CLAIMED!"
A festival worker presented Gareth and Thorne with a gleaming silver medal and a bag of Narr coins as reward. The shaman sulked in the mud, glaring with betrayed pride while locals helped him up.
"Not bad, eh?" Thorne grinned, slapping Gareth on the back hard enough to nearly knock him over.
Gareth sighed but couldn't suppress a smile. "…Not bad."
And with that, team 2's first day at the Sunpetal Festival closed with laughter, cheers, and the image of a frog forever haunting Gareth's dignity.
Continued...
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