The day had passed quickly. Unlike Naya, Illaria felt no pressure to dress up. She was a warrior, a combatant; she didn’t need to be anything more than that. Her songs and more were for her own benefit, not for anyone else. She didn’t feel the need to impress strangers. Bait had agreed to come along, but only if he got to tell people cheese facts. Illaria had given up on trying to persuade him otherwise. He’d just go ahead and do it anyway, after all.

Alvec had only cleaned up a little bit, combing his unruly hair and cleaning his clothing. He’d left his bandolier of alchemical items at home and had displayed his bronze academy badge like a medal on his coat. Mavec and Bait had done nothing different with their appearance. It fit for them, honestly.

The sound of music in the air was interesting. They had multiple bands for such a large space, and none played the same songs or instruments. Thankfully, they were far enough apart in the different areas that it wasn’t so much a clash as a strange blend only really noticeable at the periphery of each dance floor. The tents where the contestants first got to chat with each other were probably the nicest of the areas. Wooden tiles had been placed over the grass, and a proper dance stage erected underneath it. The sun's light was setting, and torches cast a warm glow over the event. Paper lanterns strung above the walkways added a nice intimate feel to the night. Mavec found the drinks and food table and parked himself nearby, grabbing a glass of punch.

Alvec flitted through the crowd, chatting here and there with people. Though looking noticeably uncomfortable. Parties like this were not his element. A quieter night with an open book, and some soft discussion sounded far better to him.

Bait wandered off almost immediately, following people around and loudly explaining how much milk was required to make a proper cheese. “It take over one whole gallon of milk to make just one pound of cheese!” he shouted at one robbed figure who meandered through the event.

Of course, Bait would latch onto one of the sketchier people at the event.

Illaria sighed. It's just how Bait was. She shrugged it off and grabbed an ale for herself; she drained it quickly, feeling the subtle warm rush in her head as she decided which music she enjoyed most.

Eventually, she settled for the one in the stadium itself. It was a bit livelier with more brass instruments than the more delicate string music of the tent. She joined in the dancing, flitting through the crowd, switching partners for dances frequently, rarely staying with one partner for more than a dance or two.

Eventually, San Verado appeared, still wearing the same garish outfit. “Another Excellent display of swordsmanship today, Illaria. Did they teach you that at the Blue Banner, or did you already know how to wield a sword before joining them?” he asked as he danced near her.

“My pa taught me how to swing a blade; the Blue Banner merely offered me a lot more practice with moving targets, is all.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly did your parents do? I assume it involves the sea since Crowley got them, but there are a lot of different professions that could apply to. Were they fisher folk, merchants, or something else?” he asked.

“ Merchants, you should be seeing me balance an accounting book; it's nearly as good as my swordplay.”

“I somehow think that might be a touch less exciting than the swordplay.” Another dancer, a particularly rotund man with a drunkard's flush, bumped into San Verado somewhat hard, jostling him and nearly knocking his hat from his head. San Verado clamped his hand onto the hat and scowled at the man.

“Mind your steps, you daft fool, or I’ll gut you myself.”

“You be minding your tongue, San Verado,” Illaria said, scowling back at him. “He’s drunk, he meant no harm.”

San Verado took a moment to recompose himself, straightening his shirt and his hat. “As it may be, I still detest those who can’t keep control of themselves. I’ve drunk my weight in beer, and you don’t see me stumbling into people.”

“Perhaps you drank more modestly than you be thinking you did,” Illaria said as she excused herself from the conversation. She had already found the man obnoxious, but now he was also an asshole. She’d see if she could give him the slip simply by grabbing another drink. The second drink went down as smoothly as the first; the nobles of Sha-Laial had spared little in the way of expenses for this festival. It was meant as a display of wealth and power; it didn’t surprise her one bit that it was so grand.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

San Verado didn’t follow immediately, but before long, he appeared nearby and grabbed a drink. “So, saying you plunge your sword into Crowley, find and rescue your parents, what comes next for you?”

“Can’t be saying I’ve given it much thought. Perhaps I’ll spend some time here amongst friends. Alvec has made it clear that so long as I wish to, I have a room in the tower.”

“That Tiefling boy, the shield wizard. He sure is an unusual one. He’s hiding something to boot.”

“What makes you say that?” Illaria said, her voice bristling.

“Snaptail, it's not a last name. It's more of a title, and he uses it pointedly. He thrusts it forward so that no one asks the question. Alvec who?”

“People can have complicated histories with their family; it doesn’t mean he’s hiding anything.”

“Has he told any of you?”

“I can’t say that he has, but it doesn’t matter. His business is his own. I’ve no right to be sticking my nose into it,” Illaria insisted.

“Bah, why do you trust him so much?” he asked pointedly. Illaria smiled, glad she was frustrating to this man who wouldn’t leave her well enough alone.

“I’ve seen the idiot risk his neck for others too many times to think he might have any ill intent.”

“You’re too good for that lot of misfits; you should join me instead. I can show you a much more grand world.”

“I’ll be passing on that. Not exactly a fan of men who threaten to gut people for the grand offense of walking into someone,” Illaria drained her cup once more and walked away. This time, pointedly glaring at him. He took the hint and didn’t follow her. She found Naya awkwardly standing on the sides. As dolled up as she had gotten, with her new dress, which fit her all too well, and a simple rosewood bracelet on her left wrist, she still looked nervous and out of place. Illaria grabbed her hands and dragged her onto the dance floor.

Mavec.

This was dumb; the music was loud, people were too close, and he didn’t fit in. He hadn’t even really spotted anyone he knew here either. Perhaps if Praha were here, he could at least have some decent conversation, and maybe, if she wanted to, he’d partake in a dance or two. He was content to just listen to the music and chill out near the party's edge.

“Excuse me, your Mavec of the Cheese Acolytes, right?” A younger boy, maybe in his early teens, said as he approached. Mavec groaned. The boy had short-cut blonde hair and wore a green knitted sweater and khaki pants.

“Unfortunately, the names stuck, so yes, yes I am. What can I do you for?” he asked.

“I was hoping to talk shop a little bit. I’m just starting at the academy. I ran into something interesting in an older edition of one of the intro books. Thought you might be a safer person to ask,” he said.

“Alright, you’ve got my attention; what did you see in this book that has you coming to ask a stranger rather than a professor?”

“It, uh, it talks about external gyroscopes. What do you know about them?”

“Ok, kid, you're pulling my leg; that was Alusai’s whole gimmick. No one knows why his devices have them.”

“That's why I’m asking you. My professors won’t talk at all about Alusai, even though a bunch of modern Artificy is descended from his designs!”

“What did these notes say?” Mavec asked.

“It was less notes and more of a drawing, a humanoid construct with a gyroscope for a head. Tsuhoma downs was written in the margins next to it,” the boy whispered as he leaned closer.

“Well, here’s all I know. Gyroscopes are usually used for maintaining internal balance with a construct. Alusai’s works use them in unconventional ways. No one knows what the purpose of an external gyroscope is. Perhaps he thought they just looked cool? Maybe, just maybe, they offer some sort of stabilization we’re unaware of. Perhaps, and this is a wild guess, they aren’t external. Perhaps they work in tandem to stabilize something bigger than the individual constructs we see them in. Maybe they disrupt magic? It's impossible to tell without seeing his notes or having better samples to work from,” Mavec concluded.

“Oh wow, those are some neat ideas.” The boy said.

“Yeah, it's a shame no one knows where he disappeared to. Whoever found his formulas and designs would be insanely rich if they could repurpose them.” Mavec replied. “Though honestly, I’m more interested in how much the craft would evolve if we had his knowledge and craft added back to the general curriculum.”

“Who knows what crazy cool things would get made.” The boy agreed.

The two of them remained chatting a bit about the future of Artificy as the night passed. Before tomorrow's fight, Mavec vowed to run to the academy and find that book. Any hint of what might have happened to Alusai and his strange but wondrous creations was invaluable. He couldn’t pass up learning more.