Chapter 33
The vibrant, pulse-pounding energy of the Willowess City night market crashed over them the moment they stepped out of the carriage. Lanterns of deep amber and brilliant azure swung gently from the eaves of bustling wooden stalls, casting a warm, magical glow across the winding cobblestone streets.
Elyra tilted her head, her sharp sapphire eyes scanning the dense, swirling crowd. Adventurers in light leather armor shared hearty laughs outside illuminated taverns, while street vendors skillfully flipped sizzling skewers of spiced meat over open flames, sending a rich, mouth-watering aroma drifting into the cool evening air.
Why are we here so late? Elyra wondered, her internal two-year-old defense mechanisms instantly snapping to attention. If we were just finishing our Fue affinity check at the guild, shouldn't we be heading straight back to the safety of the manor?
She glanced up between Damnern and Eldern, catching a fleeting, highly suspicious exchange of glances. Eldern gave a tiny, solemn nod, looking absurdly grave for a five-year-old child, while Damnern cleared his throat with a sudden, booming surge of over-enthusiastic cheerfulness.
"Well, then!" Damnern clapped his massive hands together, instantly commanding the attention of the family circle. "The night market is exceptionally lively tonight! Elina, why don't you take Elyra to explore the central plaza? Eldern and I have a few... ah, boys' matters to attend to nearby."
Boys' matters? Elyra blinked, her eyebrows knitting in severe judgment. What on earth is a 'boys' matter'? I was also a boy in my past life, yet I've never heard of such a thing...
"That's right!" Eldern puffed out his small chest, crossing his arms with supreme, self-important dignity. "Men's business, Elyra. Extremely critical operations."
Damnern chuckled, fighting back a grin as he casually patted his son's head. "We won't be long. Meet us by the grand clock tower in an hour."
Elina merely smiled, a knowing, affectionate sparkle dancing in her eyes. "Alright, don't keep us waiting too long, you two. Come along, Elyra. Let the boys handle their 'important work.'"
Driven by a lingering curiosity regarding the roaring sea of thousands of festival-goers, Elyra decided not to protest. She allowed herself to be guided by Elina's hand as they plunged into the dazzling streetscape. As Damnern and Eldern quickly melted into the sea of pedestrians, Elyra glanced back at their retreating forms with a sharp trace of suspicion.
Ignoring whatever clandestine mission her father and brother were cooking up, Elyra walked alongside Elina, their fingers laced together as they navigated the radiant avenues. The deeper they ventured into the district, the more elaborate the decorations became. Shimmering streamers of silver and gold fluttered overhead from balcony to balcony, and massive banners bearing the heraldic crest of Neltan hung proudly from the storefronts.
"It's breathtaking, isn't it?" Elina murmured softly, noticing her daughter's wide, analytical eyes sweeping over the displays. "Tonight is a deeply significant night for Willowess City, Elyra. It is the Remembrance Festival."
The Remembrance Festival...
Elyra mentally cataloged the term. An annual civic celebration marking the historic day the Kingdom of Neltan signed a hard-fought peace treaty with the Northern forces, officially terminating the devastating Neltan-Norten War. A day dedicated to collective joy, hard-won freedom, and honoring the survivors.
So that's what this carnival atmosphere is about...
A sudden, sharp shard of memory pierced her thoughts from her past life—a bittersweet flashback of sitting entirely alone on a freezing, soot-stained rooftop, staring down at a distant festival from the shadows, secretly yearning to know what belonging felt like. Without intending to, a faint, melancholic shadow crossed her small face.
Elyra really loves this, doesn't she? Elina thought happily to herself, catching a glimpse of that rare, complex expression. She must truly appreciate these simple joys.
In stark contrast, Elyra's inner monologue was brutally pragmatic. To be honest, I couldn't care less about the historical significance... I'm simply analyzing why ordinary people are so easily captivated by mass delusions of peace.
They soon emerged into the sprawling central plaza, which had been transformed into a massive, open-air amphitheater. A towering wooden stage stood beneath the starlit sky, surrounded by hundreds of spellbound citizens.
"Look, the grand historical play is about to begin!" Elina found a comfortable vantage point near the front, gently lifting Elyra and setting her down on a raised stone perimeter wall so she could see over the crowd.
The theatrical performance was a breathtaking, high-budget reenactment of the final clash and the signing of the armistice. Actors in gleaming stage-armor brandished props enhanced with subtle, colorful bursts of Fue to simulate magic spells, while a live orchestra swelled with a stirring, triumphant symphony. When the lead actor playing the realm's hero raised a glowing sword to declare eternal peace, the surrounding crowd erupted into deafening cheers.
Elyra watched, genuinely transfixed. Not gonna lie... this is actually magnificent, she admitted internally, her chest tightening with an unfamiliar, heavy warmth. Is this what genuine, stable peace feels like?
By the time the final act concluded, the sky was pitch black, illuminated only by the brilliant festival lights and a sudden, concussive bloom of magical fireworks that exploded overhead into fiery shapes of roaring lions and soaring mythical birds.
"Are you hungry, sweetie?" Elina asked affectionately, lifting her down and carrying her toward a brightly lit, aromatic food stall.
Before Elyra could reply, a sweet, caramelized scent hit her senses. The vendor handed Elina a skewer of glistening, spun-sugar glazed mountain berries—a seasonal festival delicacy known as Honey-Glass Berries. Elina offered it down to her daughter.
Elyra took a tentative, small bite. The crisp outer glass shell shattered instantly, releasing a burst of sweet, tart juice across her palate. Her eyes widened slightly, and a genuine, unguarded smile broke across her face.
Incredible.
A few minutes later, they were drifting back through the suffocatingly dense crowd. Every few paces, passing citizens or local merchants recognized the Countess, bowing respectfully. "Enjoy the evening, My Lady," a fruit vendor called out warmly.
Elyra's analytical gaze swept the perimeter. The sea of bodies was crushing, and Damnern was nowhere within visual range. Her tactical instincts—deeply ingrained from a lifetime of assassination attempts and survival—suddenly flared.
Isn't this the absolute golden opportunity?
She desperately needed actionable intelligence regarding the surrounding political factions, local power dynamics, and her own obscure family status—details the adults would never willingly brief a two-year-old on. Utilizing her microscopic stature and precise footwork, she waited for a sudden surge of festival-goers to push past them. In a fraction of a second, she slipped her hand out of Elina's grip and vanished directly into the human tide.
"Ely—" Elina began, turning to adjust her hold, only for her fingers to close around empty air. Her maternal heart plummeted.
"Elyra!" Elina cried out, her voice instantly fracturing with terror as she whipped around, desperately scanning the roaring ocean of people.
Meanwhile, a few yards away, Elyra was ducking deftly beneath the heavy wool cloaks and swinging elbows of towering adults.
I managed to slip away cleanly, but... Elyra thought with a silent internal groan, weaving through the chaos. I still have zero tactical plan on how to actually acquire intelligence with this humiliatingly tiny body.
As she scuttled along the edge of a market stall, trying desperately to maintain a low profile, she completely underestimated how brightly her porcelain features and blonde hair stood out amidst the commoners.
"Good heavens... is that Young Lady Elyra?!" a sharp, astonished voice rang out nearby.
Elyra froze mid-step. A young female noblewoman stared down at her with saucer-wide eyes. "It really is her! The Count's youngest daughter!"
"Is that true?" A nearby merchant craned his neck, his face lighting up.
"Kyaaa! Look at her little face!" "She's dangerously cute!" "She looks like a porcelain doll brought to life!" "Oh dear, are you lost, little darling?"
Within five heartbeats, a suffocating wall of adoring citizens closed in around her, cooing, gasping, and reaching out to pinch her cheeks. Elyra's internal klaxons wailed at absolute maximum volume.
This is a disaster. If I don't break containment right now, I'll be captured and hauled back to Mama in cuffs.
Operating purely on raw combat instinct, Elyra sharply raised her tiny arm, pointed a small finger toward the sky, and screamed with theatrical terror:
"W-What is that?!"
The instant the surrounding adults looked up, Elyra didn't hesitate. Though her short, toddler legs couldn't carry her very fast, she made up for it with sheer agility and miniature size.
"W-What in the—?!" confused onlookers gasped as the tiny girl darted right past their shins.
Ducking and weaving through the sea of moving ankles, trailing skirts, and wooden display tables, Elyra cleverly used the crowded market as a maze to block their line of sight. Huffing softly from the exertion, she rounded a sharp corner and slipped into the cool, pitch-black maw of a narrow, deserted alleyway—instantly cutting off the blinding festival lights and roaring noise behind her.
"Well, well, well... what do we have here?" a rough, gravelly voice scraped through the shadows of the dead-end corridor.
"Looks like a stray little princess wandered right into the slaughterhouse," a second voice sneered, dripping with oily, malicious amusement.
Elyra's survival instincts screamed in red alert. She whipped around toward the alley entrance, only for her stomach to drop into an abyss.
Three burly, heavily scarred men had detached themselves from the gloom, completely blocking the moonlit exit that led back to the safety of the main street. Their massive silhouettes choked the narrow stone walls, extinguishing her only escape route.
Elyra dropped into a low, defensive stance, her sapphire eyes narrowing to razor slits as her hyper-accelerated mind calculated the odds.
Three hostiles...
To be Continued...