[Market Square Beneath the Lantern Sky]
The market was alive, pulsing with warmth and motion, lanterns strung between crooked poles casting amber light over the cobbled paths. The air sang with laughter sharp and sweet as children chased each other between stalls stacked with spices, bolts of shimmering cloth, and fruit cut open to bleed color into the dusk. Acrobats tumbled through the air like falling stars, catching themselves on ropes and silks strung between beams, drawing gasps and wild applause from the crowds.
In the midst of it all stood Yunli slim, petite, quiet in the way a knife is quiet just before it cuts. She moved softly under the moonlight, untouched by the crowd even as she moved through it. Her dark dress barely whispered, sleeves lined with the soft gleam of metallic thread that caught the lantern light whenever she turned her wrist. Her gaze was everywhere watchful, calculating not because she was afraid, but because she had been taught long ago to see everything before it could see her.
Beside her, Sonia swayed to the rhythm of a local drumbeat that pulsed from the center of the square. Her curves made room in the crowd without effort, and her confident smile caught the eye of a dozen onlookers as she passed. Her blouse cut just enough to draw attention without invitation fluttered with each step, a splash of saffron and wine red. She twirled once for the acrobats, laughing when a juggler tossed a mango her way mid-spin. She caught it without looking, bit into it, and tossed the rind into a basket, never breaking stride.
Oscar, lean and emotionless, walked just behind, half amused, half alert. His shirt hung open at the collar, sweat glinting faintly along his jaw and collarbone as the day's heat lingered. His body moved with the grace of a fighter who hadn't yet let himself relax, like a panther striding through a garden party. The children ran past him one brave enough to tag his leg and bolt. He smirked, watching them go, then looked up at the rooftops. Always watching.
Vincent, wide-shouldered and solid, moved like a piece of the earth itself. Where Oscar flowed and Yunli slipped, Vincent loomed not with menace, but with presence. His thick arms crossed over a vest patterned in geometric blues, a nod to local tradition, and the beads braided clacked softly as he nodded greetings to vendors. He accepted a drink from a small, wrinkled woman who pressed it into his hands like an offering. He drank without hesitation, then smiled an actual smile and he laughed like thunder was his friend.
And then there was Holly the mood breaker, the spark. Dressed head to toe in the market's finest silks, her face covered with a wooden mask, her gown shimmered with peacock green and opal flashes. Her feet barely touched the ground as she danced in sync with a ring of native performers, mimicking their intricate steps with unexpected precision. Her laughter rang out as she spun, skirt flaring, bracelets clinking like wind chimes. She belonged here, somehow, like a story remembered rather than told.
Later, Beyond the Market The Courtyard Beneath the Old Tree
A wide stone circle had been cleared beside the old tree that towered like a cathedral over the western quarter. There, fires burned in iron braziers, the meat on the spit hissing as juices dripped into the coals. Long tables had been set, cloth-covered and candle-lit, each place marked by hand painted tiles. It was not lavish but it was real. The kind of celebration you earned, not bought.
Julius sat at the head of the table, posture still, eyes flicking over the gathering like a sentry with something worth guarding. But for once, he was not armored in silence. His daughters sat to either side Fray, whose now sharp featured and always one comment away from a fight, and Gwen, her smile softer, more tired perhaps, but no less more feisty in her comments when she needed to be. Both wore knitted jacket too worn to be for fashion, and both had the same eyes as their father obsidian with a ring of steel just beneath the surface.
Fray tore into roasted meat with gusto, joking with ryan, who tossed bones over his shoulder for a stray dog lingering near the fires. Gwen spoke quietly with the benefactor, who was painting a flame-shaped swirl across her cheek with something local and iridescent.
Scott stood with a tankard in hand, surrounded by his five boys no longer fists, no longer weapons, but young men grinning as they toasted each other, slapping backs and bumping shoulders. A few of the young teenagers from the town who came by to give their greetings watched them from the sidelines not with fear, but with respect, and maybe envy. They had seen the cost of leadership. And now they saw its reward.
The benefactor, a tall man in a cloak that looked cut from night itself, raised his glass. No name had been given, but his presence spoke loudly enough. Julius stood to meet him toast.
"To alliances not written in ink," he said, voice smooth as oil and twice as dangerous.
"To fire and silence," Julius returned, and drank.
The music returned low at first, stringed and mournful, then rising in tempo as drums joined in. Fray pulled gwen to dance, laughing when she refused, then dragging her anyway.
Within the streets where dancing was like a spell upon the whole townsmen, Oscar caught Yunli's eye across the table by the corner. She raised a brow.
"You going to pretend you don't dance too?" he asked.
"I don't pretend," she said. "I choose."
But a few moments later, she was on her feet, following him into the blur of motion and music. Even kael the man who crushed a device as soon as he entered into the town smiled at the sight of that.
" Youthful days should always be like this ...full of energy" he sighed.
As the mid night arrived nigh, from a distance, the celebration looked like a flickering dream firelight, shadows, laughter, and life.
Jeffery sat slumped against a rock on the hill, arms still bound behind his back. A cut on his temple had dried to rust, and his lip was split anew.
Beside him, a figure crouched not Crook, not a guard. Someone else. Quiet. Dressed in gray. The same color as fog and forgetting.
The figure held up a small device. A live-feed flickered to life a view of the courtyard below, centered on Julius.
"Still think this was all of it?" the figure who happened to be kael asked.
Jeffery didn't answer. He was too busy watching Gwen.
He smiled again. Not like before. This one was colder.
"Not all of it," he said. "But it was enough."
" The nightwalker demands your presence along with the Benefactor at midnight two days from now. Hope to see you " kael said then vanished from the line of sight.
Julius shifted his gaze to the sky and the satellite above, once hidden, blinked back into view.