Naya found herself along the river sampling foods from various stalls. Sharing the food with Echo meant she could sample from multiple food stalls. Looking at the wolf, her first friend outside of Lom-Itoti, he looked a bit thin and, dare she say, a mite taller than he had been before. Perhaps he was still growing. Much larger, and he’d be the same size as a dire wolf. “Echo, you aren’t a dire wolf, are you?” He tilted his head at her in confusion. “Never mind.” It just as easily could have resulted from her own magic growing. Echo, while his own person in many ways, was tied to Naya by the spirits, nature, and magic? Naya couldn’t explain it, but as she grew more powerful, she could feel him growing along with her. Quite literally, she was beginning to think.

Eventually, she found her way to the lawyers Abal, Feng, and Krog. They stood with clipboards, paper, and ink quills at the ready. Behind them, operated by a halfling, was a giant slingshot aimed over towards the river. She blinked a few times in surprise. She’d heard of this from Hoc but didn’t believe it existed. She thought it was likely a fever dream of his.

“What must I do to get shot into the river?” Naya asked as she rushed up to them. Krog replied.

“Mostly sign this waiver saying neither you nor your next of kin will seek damages if you die.”

“Can it shoot Echo too?”

“No, Echo can’t give consent, unfortunately. While a familiar may be able to, animal companions are generally restricted from giving consent in all but a limited number of cases.”

“Fine, Echo, go wait for me over in the river. You can make sure I don’t drown if something goes wrong. He’s more than smart enough to do that.”

“I'm sure he is Naya; no one is doubting his intellect. Just in the eyes of the law, companions aren’t able to consent.” Echo obediently trotted to the river and waited by its edge. Naya anxiously ran up to the halfling in charge of the “ride” and paid her fare to use it. She sat back in the harness, and after a few “calibrations,” the attendant stretched back the sling and pulled the lever, launching her into the air. She came down hard into the river. Moments after her small frame plunged into the cold river, a second splash followed as Echo dove in after her. She broke the surface and grabbed Echo, who quickly guided her back out of the river.

“What do you think? Should we go again, Echo?” The wolf looked at her, confused, but waited at the river's edge as Naya ran back soaking wet and paid to go again and again.

After a few more launches from the slingshot, she settled for grabbing a drink. They still had a lot of time till the next fight, and she never had allowed herself to drink at this sort of event before. Echo stayed beside her as the warm buzz from the honeyed wine she purchased floated up to her head. She had a life here; even if she never found a way to save Lom-Itoti, she’d already survived. She had good friends and a good companion. She eventually found her way back to Alvec and Ij.

“Alvec. There’s. A slingshot. Pow into the river! It's fun.”

“You okay, Naya?”

“Better than okay. I’m buzzed?” She evaluated her condition briefly; it might have been a heavy buzz, but she didn’t think she was drunk yet. “Buzzed,” She confirmed, grinning wide and gesturing to the drink in her hand.

“Alright, well, try not to overdo it; after all, we’ve got another fight tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, Dad,” she said teasingly. “Ij, I need. I need you to paint me something.”

“I’m listening, oh spirit-speaker.”

“Good,” she set her drink on the countertop and threw both arms around Echo’s mane. “I want you to paint Echo, but not a portrait. No, I want you to paint the essence of Echo. Don’t show the world what he looks like; show the world who he is. You know.”

“Naya, I fully understand what you are asking, and it would be my honor to paint his essence. The ferocity of the beast that beats within his breast, paired with the love and adoration he feels for you and your friends. Capturing that delicate balance would be an exquisite challenge. I look forward to it, after the festival. I still need to make enough money to pay my rent for the year. Being an artist in the city isn’t easy if you don’t have some hoity-toity noble giving you patronage.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Ok, I can wait,” Naya said as she settled in for a few minutes. Maybe her and Alvec being here would help draw more attention to Ij and his paintings. He was interesting, and she hoped he could make enough money during this festival.

Illaria

“A round on the house from the Cheese Acolytes!” Illaria shouted, her voice ringing clear over the din of celebration in the large bar room. A cheer went through the room like an electric current.

“To Illaria! To the Cheese Acolytes!”

“To the most beautiful and deadly woman in the bar, perhaps in all of Sha-Laial,” a man said as he slid up next to her at the bar.

“Don’t be letting Naya catch you saying that second part; you’ll taste twice the iron I can put out. Girl's a force of nature,” Illaria said, brushing aside the comments; she was unfortunately used to men flirting with her. The only question about the man beside her was what variety of creep the man was. He was nearly as tall as she was, with deep black hair mostly tucked under a rather large golden yellow hat, with what looked like fantastical peacock plumage billowing off from one side. His shirt was a flaming red with bright polished brass buttons, and even his trousers were deep satin purple. A rapier hung to his side, its handle an exquisite polished silver adorned with various precious stones.

A rich creep.

“Aye, but she’s not as skilled as you are. Deflecting a blade and parrying takes far more skill than whirling two blades around. You strike like a viper with purpose and poise. Her, not so much. Barkeep, a drink for our friend.”

“No, thank you,” Illaria said firmly.

“Fine then,” He said as he spun his back towards her. “A round to everyone from the Sons of Marora. May it never be said we’re stingy with coin or our affections,” he said, slapping down a fair bit of coin onto the table.

“I thought I recognized you from this morning,” Illaria said.

“Yes, we didn’t have the pleasure of speaking during the pre-ceremony gathering. I believe you were busy speaking with your associates from the Blue Banner Army. You’re Coffin Flotilla, right?” He asked.

“Aye, served more than a few tours with them,” Illaria said, accepting another drink from the bartender.

“Dangerous waters, I should know. My band gets paid to escort ships through those seas. Thankfully, Crowley has yet to take any of ours. He’s a right bastard if the tales are unexaggerated and to be believed.”

“He’s a pirate, a kidnapper, and an awful man. He’s the reason I joined up with the Blue Banner Army. On one of these tours, I’ll yet drive a blade through him. But not before I pry some information from those damned lips.”

“The Dread Pirate take something from you?” he asked as he leaned over the bar, pulling ever so slightly closer to Illaria.

“My parents. I escaped; they weren’t so lucky. If the rumors about him are true, he most likely sold them into servitude in some other port in the world. Not everywhere is as blessed as the Empire in that regard.”

“They say he’s not the wasteful type; you could very well be right.” San Verado said. “What will you do if you get that information?”

“Track them down. The world's a large place, but to have a starting point, even a year old one, gives me a prayer to find them. Either to repurchase them out of whatever contract they are in or kill their masters and take them home myself. Haven’t really gotten that far in the planning.”

“Aye, first you’d have to find the clever bastard.”

“That's what the Blue Banner's for. We’ll surely cross paths one day, and I’ll be there,” Illaria said firmly.

“But, tonight is not that night, Illaria of the Blue Banners. What say you that we liven this place up just a bit in the way only two old hands of the sea can?” he said, extending a hand to her. “It's only fitting we get a warmup before we face each other in the tournament,” San Verado said, giving a deep bow.

“Not if we’re the only ones dancing,” she replied curtly.

“Come on, people, you’ve heard the lady. Up, UP! Be merry,” he shouted as he waved his arms up in the air.

“Only if we get to dance with her, too,” someone shouted from the back.

“Only one way to know if it will happen,” Illaria said as she stood up and began to sing the first song that popped into her head. It was an old song about the spirit Shoalsatta and a pirate who tricked her into helping him steal a storm's strength so that he could calm the seas to save his ship. She sang a few similar tales as she and the other patrons joined her in song and dance. It was a stranger night than Illaria had planned, but it was a good night. Eventually, Bait arrived at the bar and entered a dance with Illaria. Not that he danced with her, but he stood still before her.

“Hi, Bait no find Ben’s shop here at festival. Help him look?” he asked.

“Alright, I can help you look. I can’t imagine him not having a small shop here, at the least, being so close to Sha-Laial after all.”

The pair made to leave. San Verado grabbed her forearm loosely and leaned in. “I look forward to seeing you again, and should luck favor the both of us, may at least one of those occasions be on the battlefield.” He released her arm and bowed deeply to the pair.