I have learned a lot in the past year, probably more than any other year in my life. I have seen sights that I never expected to see, found more happiness than I ever had, and more pain. One thing that I have come to know is that every place you visit celebrates its own holiday, and, as I am coming to see, none of the traditions make sense.

As we head into fall in Faeth, a strange cheer sweeps the city. For a week and a half, people work throughout the day and night to paint the buildings. The effort is tremendous, requiring a far greater level of organization than even the defense against the beast tide in Mari had been. Over the course of a week, one or two hundred thousand faethians leave their regular positions for holiday work, a fully paid leave as it happens. Starting in the middle of the city, they slowly move outward, painting every building in the city bronze.

It is one of the strangest things I have ever seen, an entire city covered with a paint that not only gave every stone, every brick, the color of polished bronze, but also the metallic sheen of it as well. Touching the buildings, I feel metal beneath my fingers, even when I watched the workers on our block paint the color on. In the daylight, the city shines so bright that I have to wear my sun-blocking glasses just to walk around.

The decorating doesn't end there, far from it. For this holiday of Bronze Burn, every lampost in the city is decorated with strings of pink and red roses. The signs and advertisements lining the roads change as well, taking on the ascetic pink and bronze of the season, but also incorporating seasonal gourds, squirrels, and honeycombs into their advertising. It boggles my mind to consider the expense, but there is no part of me that feels unimpressed.

Luckily for me, Bronze Burn falls on the weekend this year.

"How did you not spot that?" Dovik asks, looking down at me.

We stand on the corner of Maev and Central Avenue, watching the Bronze Band march its way around the city. An endless wave of pink and red confetti paper follows the mile-long marching band as it winds its way through the city. It is an endless procession of trumpets, horns, and bronze flutes that takes up almost the whole road, playing upbeat music to the cheering adoration of almost every citizen in the city. Dovik and I stand in an endless sea of short blue faces, all crying out and waving pink or green flags toward the band.

The children around us scream as a team of twelve bronze horses leads a float around the corner. Atop the float is the squirrel and the honey bee, the two leads of the holiday fable. The story is supposed to teach some moral about aiming higher than what people say is possible or something like that. The two creatures wrestle over a depiction of the first letter in the Tallic alphabet, as Bronze Burn is also supposed to celebrate the written language being invented for some reason. Each is over eighty feet tall, slowly moving as they push and shove against one another through some mechanical means.

"Silk on my dick," I swear, using Castinian so as not to sully the ears of the children around. I am just about to rub the soot on the back of my hand away against my new pink, holiday blouse before I think better of it. Licking a few fingers, I try rubbing the soot off.

"I swear," I yell at Dovik to be heard over the roar of the band and the crowd. "They keep that room so clean. I don't know where all of this soot is coming from. I must have pissed off a spirit or something."

Dovik clicks his tongue. He is back to wearing his usual clothes, which just make him stand out more than he already would with being twice as tall as everybody. The man has no sense of the Bronze Burn spirit. "You said you showered," he says.

"I did." I grab a lock of hair and sniff it. The scent of melting iron and fire is only barely noticeable.

"Then how did you miss that?"

"What a great question. Oh, look, there is Jasper and Gaz." I turn his shoulder so that he can see the two wading through the crowd.

Gaz returns my wave as she makes her way over, charting the path for her brother to walk in her wake. "Sorry, we're late," she yells when she makes it only two feet away. "They were taking forever to close the back. A few teams were incredibly late. They ended up closing without them, leaving some poor sucker to wait for them."

"This is a big tournament, huh?" I yell back to her.

"What?" comes her return yell. Sometimes, I forget that other people can't hear as well as I do.

I point at my mouth and slowly mouth the words to her. Gaz nods, but I don't think she understood a word. Dovik and Jasper decide between themselves that we should get off the street, and I have no problems with that. Once you've seen the first forty minutes of the marching band, you've seen the whole four hours of the marching band.

Just because we leave the main thoroughfare and the marching band behind doesn't mean we leave Bronze Burn behind. Leaving that behind is impossible today. A block from where we met up, Jasper leads us toward one foodstall in particular, the entire reason we met here to begin with. For the last week, he has been talking up these deep-fried honeycomb treats that one stall in particular sells. I am skeptical all the way up until I take the first bite. Instead of biting into wax like I expected, I find the honeycomb to be made of cinnamon bread. Already incredibly delicious, it only grows all the sweeter once the chocolate drizzle is added.

I buy two hundred, bundling away the treats into my storage ring where they can be kept as fresh as today. Maybe I make us wait twenty minutes longer as the three workers behind the booth can make my order. Maybe the line grows long enough that it snakes around the corner. Right now, I can't care, couldn't care less. Along with the cold cream I still have, these will be perfect treats to sneak.

Gaz takes the front, navigating us toward a carnival ground set up down one entire street. They have everything I could have ever expected and more, including a massive wheel that slowly spins while people ride in small carriages attached to the outside. They have a mess of unhealthy food here as well, truly delicious.

About twenty minutes into our trip around the carnival grounds, we discovered that there is a prize limit to the game booths. Dovik wins most of the games on his first attempt, and I let him do better than I overall. After he wins his third two-foot-long honeycane and the man running the ball-tossing game starts to give him a dirty look, he can't get a grin off his face. The man actually walks around with one of the absurdly long canes in his mouth, chewing on it.

As we near the giant wheel, Gaz grabs his hand, dragging him onto one of the carriages and not-so-subtly closing the door behind them before Jasper or I can even think to join them. I catch Jasper smiling. Not much gets past him. He cracks his back with a satisfied grunt before leaning forward onto the wooden fence running around the big-wheel-ride. I join him, watching as the two are taken up and away.

"I think your sister has a crush on my friend," I tell him.

Jasper shakes his head, looking down at his feet with a wide grin. "You know, I think you may be right. Does she have a chance?"

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"I don't think so," I tell him truthfully.

He sighs, watching their carriage. "He seems like a good man. I'm sure he will let her down easily." Despite the smirk on his face, his eyes are tired, strained.

"This tournament must really be important," I say.

Jasper turns my way, noticing me notice his tiredness. "That obvious, is it? I don't think I've gotten a full night's sleep in three days."

"You should raise your recovery attribute," I tell him.

He doesn't immediately register the joke, which is the sign of a good joke. "You might be right. You told me how extreme your schedule is, and you don't look like you've lost a single night."

"It's nice of you to say so," I say.

"It's true, you look…nice." He coughs and looks away from me, turning his eyes toward the carriage once again.

"How gentlemanly." I noticed the wheel was huge when we first turned onto the road, but I didn't notice how slowly it turns. We are going to be here for a good ten minutes waiting. "Why are you so serious about this golem fighting anyway? Don't get me wrong, it is exciting, but it doesn't seem like it would be what you would be passionate about."

Jasper looks forward, watching the slow turn of the wheel for so long that I think he isn't going to answer. Then he says, "You are right. I'm not really that passionate about it." He pauses, looking at me for a second, before looking back at the wheel.

"We have a sponsor," he says. "Back in Tetartet, our father works directly for the prince. He is a master of the region's traditional enchantment. The things my people can do with stone would amaze you; I know it would. But the world is leaving us behind. Every year, people from this city, people who learned here, change their homes in unimaginable ways. They bring enchantments that make nations prosperous, that make people's lives better. The prince himself sent me here, and when my sister showed aptitude, he paid for her to come as well.

"Tetartet isn't a wealthy kingdom, or at least, our prince isn't. We are just one of the few he sponsors. He pays for us to be here, and I know that he believes in what we are doing, what we are learning, but the man can only barely cover our essentials. I have to work to keep us going, and so I build for the golem fights. Every spare red goes into that device in order to attract more patrons. It works. Faeth loves three things: innovation, commerce, and gambling. Gambling on fights is the best of all."

"So, you just do it to get by," I say.

"No. I do like it. There really isn't anything like it, trying to prepare enchantments to combat unknown monsters, pushing every spare red to its limit as you work to minimize every inefficiency. You fight your budget as much as you do the monsters. But it isn't what I came here for. Did you know that in most parts of the world, most people don't have iceboxes? The simplest enchantment here, the ability to keep food cold to store, most live without. I know how to make those now, and other kinds of modern miracles that the people of this city figured out a century ago. I am going to take those home, and I am going to change everything."

Jasper lapses for a moment, just watching the big wheel slowly turn. Then, when he finds me smiling at him, he asks, "What?"

"Nothing," I say.

"What, really?"

"I just…Well, I guess I like hearing people talk about their dreams," I tell him.

"You do, do you?" Jasper scratches the side of his face, looking away.

"I think I do. I always did, but before, hearing about people's dreams used to make me jealous," I say.

"What happened?"

"I woke up." The wheel ahead of us continues to turn.

Dovik and Gaz finally make a full rotation, but when the door opens, Gaz pauses at the entryway, looking through the carriage for something. Dovik stands in the entryway, looking over to us as she continues to search around inside. He shakes his head, shrugs his shoulders, and heads back into the carriage to help her. Less than a minute later, they are on the move again, beginning their second trip around the circle.

This time, I catch Jasper looking when I glance to the side. "Admiring me?"

If I thought he looked embarrassed before, he looks positively shamed now. I am feeling bad about saying something almost immediately, and I try to recover the fun mood.

"Could you help me with something, actually?" I ask.

"What. With what. Help you with what?" he asks in return.

I can't help but laugh. "I am working on a set of boots. They are heavy armor, but I want to do something more with them than simply increase my magical prowess. The issue is, I want to make these now, but I don't have an incredible design for an array I like."

The embarrassment leaves Jasper as he taps his chin, looking down at the road. "Traditionally, boots are given for movement enhancement. Even if you are making something that is considered heavy armor, there are plenty of designs that incorporate some advanced forms of movement. We were just working on this problem last week." He pauses. "Would you like to see our design, the one that we use for the golem?"

"Is that okay?" I ask. "You don't have to keep that a secret or anything."

"Well, as long as you promised not to go spreading it around," he says.

"I wouldn't do something like that. These boots are for me."

"Then, I would love to show you. We could even go now if you wanted," he says.

"Really?" I look up at the sky, finding that it is beginning to turn gold as night comes on. "I would be willing."

Jasper nods up at the wheel. "We still need to wait on–"

"Dovik!" I shout. In the next moment, the man is standing in front of me. I quickly give him the update to the plan, and he agrees to keep Gaz company for a few hours.

The trip back through the city is the most crowded one that I have had. There are people everywhere, so many that a few of the moving walkways beneath Faeth break down due to all of the traffic. Tonight, I am more tempted than ever before to fly over it all. I don't, and distract myself by talking with Jasper.

He has many stories to tell once you get him to open up. Jasper tells me stories about Tetartet, a kingdom of stonespeakers and gnolls partway around the world. The majority of the kingdom is beneath the ground, with only the farms existing on the surface. Some aspect of the air makes the sun burn so hot there that it could kill in a day if someone was left exposed, burning so hot that even the crops have to be covered by huge tarps in order not to be dried out. As he walks and talks, I find myself imagining the kingdom under the earth. For weeks, the only thoughts of life beneath the ground that have been in my imagination have been Tabbris, a literal hell. Those thoughts clash so hard with what he tells me that I can't help but hang on every description.

Night is fully underway by the time we arrive in Booktown. Jasper walks straighter as we enter less-crowded streets, and I find myself beginning to like the sound of his voice. I catch myself almost immediately, just managing to hide my snicker at my own silliness. Am I really going to start falling for this man just because I don't have one around? The thought is a bit disturbing, making me question my interest in first Macille and then Jor'Mari. Did I start to give them my heart simply because they were around? Does that make me a loose woman?

Jasper pauses for a moment as we near the club where Jasper does his golem fighting. The lights that usually beat down from the signs posted at the front are cold and dark; everyone is out for the holiday, it would seem. I might've thought that a dance club would be extra-open on the holidays, but it would seem I am wrong about that.

"Something wrong? I ask.

He shakes his head. "No." Jasper leads me around the back of the huge building to where a single light illuminates a large green door. "Dex was supposed to be watching the door," he says. "Maybe the other teams got here earlier than I thought."

As we approach the door, I feel a bit of the trepidation he does. Jasper steps up to the door and slowly pulls it open.

"Unlocked?" I ask.

"It isn't supposed to be."

His eyes snap back, stopping on a location in the darkness behind us. I see it only a second after he does. On the eight-foot-high brick wall that runs around the back of the lot, a dwarven man dressed in black, his face covered by a squirrel mask, sits on the wall. Something is glowing in his hand.

??? ???

Jasper's head snaps around, and he rushes forward, trying to sprint through the doorway and into the building. The dwarven man raises his hand, and I vaguely recognize what he is holding. He clenches his fist, the device clapping together in his hand. Then, the building and half the block explodes.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.