Gaemo took the hand of Evén as he walked towards an open spot in the square, the two starting a very close dance with each other. Since Gaemo was a resident of Gauntlet for over a year he was already accustomed to the dances of the area, with Evén travelling here in the past she caught up quickly.

Wriske approached another gashriek who was standing on the side of the street, alone without a partner. He nodded to the Devout who approached him, Wriske taking the man’s hand and beginning to dance in a different style, but similar to the other gashrieks visible on the street.

Marcus was approached by another Devout, one seemingly following the same faith as him, wearing the attire of yellows and blues. Marcus smiled as he listened to the man’s words as they also parted to dance nearer the centre of the street.

Logan turned to Amalia and made a somewhat teasing bow, reminiscent of both their time on Earth and what was depicted in old medieval shows. Amalia chuckled and did a similarly jokey curtsy. With an outstretched hand, Logan had Amalia grab it shortly as he directed her to dance.

With enough reading beforehand, Logan knew the common steps in the dance while Amalia seemingly had some instructions from Evén. It wasn’t too alien to normal Earth dancing anyway.

Placing the backs of their right hands together, the pair circled one another, lunging with their right leg, pulling back, and then passing each other before spinning around to have the backs of their left hands touch.

Making motions of butterflies with their hands, they intertwined into holding each other's hands, spinning with minor footwork. Amalia was moving too close to another pair of dancers to which Logan pulled her closer to avoid a collision, before pushing apart to make room for another section of the dance.

Amalia smiled as she spoke, “Weren’t you here only three months?”

“I was quite studious, no need to worry”, Logan replied, knowing it was a hidden compliment on his dance.

“Glad I asked for a teacher for this then”, Amalia admitted as she twirled in Logan’s hand.

“Like many other things, I like to be prepared at least. The rest is training.”

“Starting is easy. Persistence is an art.”

“Not heard that one before”, Logan smiled.

“I hear less and less from my home, here.”

“As do I. I had to change how I spoke, or catch myself saying words people wouldn’t understand.”

“Fantasy comes here to thrive, yet roots die.”

Twirling around, the pair got closer as the dance slowed down, “Have you been missing home?” Logan asked with a sincere face.

“A bit. This place was so stark in its difference. But, I like what it holds for me”, Amalia mentioned as she held tighter onto Logan’s arm as they spun again, “Do you still want to go home?”

“Avanar certainly has a home for me to make. But the last part of mine back ‘there’ needs help.”

“If only you could take a trip there and back. Could you solve all your loose ends if so?”

Logan thought for a second, “I don’t even know if there is a return trip I could plan. But I have something in mind for the next opportunity.”

“With all this world’s magic, there is bound to be something to heal anything.”

“How’s your magic journey going anyway?”

“It comes down to funding and chance, really. The spell rings entice me, but I can only get so many”, Amalia started as she smirked, “How about we trade classes?”

Logan let out a short laugh, “I’ll just talk with Vokka, collect call.”

“How many ways have you attempted?” Amalia asked seriously.

Logan sighed a little, “A few, though not with as much effort as I could give.”

“Through failure, one becomes smart.”

“Really getting into the medieval mood, aren’t you?”

“I used to read old fantasy books, this place is quite charming, but barely holds a candle to those idealized worlds.”

“Well, I suppose it’ll be better late than never if I do get to contact Vokka.”

“There’s one new saying we could use from here, it’s quite fitting I think”, Amalia started.

“Already heard a few, like ‘I don’t know you from Wallace’.”

“I read in a book whilst learning about smithery. ‘Impossibility is not possible’. Avanarians believe that a turtle can fly just as much as a bird can swim.”

“There is that demonturtle. Maybe that can actually fly”, Logan replied with a laugh.

“Plenty of birds dive to catch fish and pop right back out of the water too”, Amalia returned.

“Since portals exist, I am certain communication to other realms also exists.”

“I completed a third quest, just the other day. If…”, Amalia started, but had a pause, “If a portal is awarded to me. Do you want it?”

Logan thought about the offer for a few seconds, though it felt much longer than that. “Do you truly have no wish to go back?”

“This place has its faults, and while it might sound a bit selfish, none of them are aimed solely at me. It’s more accommodating.”

“That’s not a straight answer.”

Amalia sighed, “If I had the choice, I’d probably stay. If I was forced to leave, I’d be upset for a bit, but it’d pass.”

Logan ruminated again, “If that’s the case—”

A louder explosion was followed by several smaller ones in the night sky, as a finale-style flourish coloured the festival wonderfully. Sparkles in arrays of deific symbols slowly fluttered down before being replaced with others. The crowd “oo’ed” and “ah’ed” at the sight.

Logan and Amalia separated their dance to look towards the show, as did many other dancers as the caper came to a conclusion.

At the edge of his vision, Logan could see Evén and Gaemo focusing on each other’s faces during the display rather than watching, making him a bit uncomfortable.

Turning around, the Spellthief walked to a nearby bench and sat down, slouching slightly on it as he stared up at the lights.

Amalia followed shortly after and sat beside the man lost in thought and admiring the scenery.

“If this is a yearly event, I’ll have to sort out more dresses”, Amalia mentioned with a chuckle.

“Wonder if I will be in the next congress meeting”, Logan thought aloud.

“Do you have many more ideas for changes?”

Logan sat up, “A few, but that’s a whole year away. Who knows if I will still be around.”

“That’s a problem for future you to deal with.”

Logan placed his elbows on his legs and held up his chin with the backs of his hands. “Yes.”

Amalia looked at Logan, it was a weird reply to her sentence.

“I’ll take it”, Logan added.

Amalia understood, before she could reply though Wriske approached them, “We’re going to go get some drinks, you two coming?”

Logan stood up and put on a smile, “I’ve been smelling it in the air. We going far?”

Wriske moved around the bench and pulled Amalia up by the hand, “A minute or two away, it’s open air so you might be smelling that.”

Being led away, Wriske tapped Evén on the shoulder as they approached, causing her to let go of Gaemo’s face and turn to her.

“Plenty of time for that later, we’re going for drinks if you want to sate your thirst that much”, Wriske announced with a teasing smile to which Gaemo looked away.

Looking around, Logan didn’t see Marcus any longer, but then he assumed he went off somewhere to do more of what Evén and Gaemo were doing.

Before leaving the main part of the festival, the group went to hand in their tags for prizes. Sweets, souvenirs, mementoes, and even adventuring gear were on offer for people to exchange. They spent a few minutes looking over things before settling on rewards for each other, Logan keeping his a secret till later.

Logan, Amalia, Wriske, Evén, and Gaemo all headed off down another street as the music became a bit less prominent. Finding a rather large open-side bar with tables and stools set up. A staircase on the side of the building led to a rooftop seating area, which the party rushed towards.

After finding a table, the group bought up some drinks and snacks. Each table had a miniature Flame elemental dancing within its centre, giving off a bit of heat and lighting the tables with a wavey design.

Midnight had passed during the dance, the friends drinking for a good hour or two thereafter and chatting about recent events and future plans.

Amalia was asked if she was going to be a hunter, Gaemo if he was going to share a private room at the inn, and Logan if he was still researching teleportation magic.

A few other faces passed by, both finding tables at the establishment or walking across the streets, that greeted different parts of the group with glee. Most of those who greeted Logan were merchants or downtrodden, their faces much lighter than when the Spellthief had first met them.

Continuing to see happy smiles paint those who were sad in the past caused Logan to feel content with his work. He was a valued member of the city, and a friend to many a person who he didn’t think he would engage with. It would be hard not to be nice to a man who saved your caravan or your life.

Gaemo, Evén, and Wriske had similar acquaintances who sang their praises on seeing them. Clasping of arms, pats on the shoulders, and free drinks poured into tankards. Almost anyone who knew them, knew them in bright lights.

With the festival going on into the early hours of the day, around 3am the group started to part the festivities and return to the Meek Moat Inn. Full of alcohol, treats, and glee, the party returned with happy faces.

The streets had calmed down as time had gone on, music being mostly ended alongside others having returned home. As this was a yearly event, most people knew they weren’t going to sleep too early, being situated in the market square did help to confine the sounds and smells though.

Entering the inn, most of the group went straight to bed. Yetveka had left a piece of parchment on the counter to let the party know of her absence, having faith that no one would be stupid enough to steal from a home of hunters.

Amalia and Logan had previous experience in drinking, at least in a different way than what was experienced on Avanar. As such, they both had a tankard of water each before heading up to their own rooms.

Stopping at Logan’s door, as it was closer to the stairs, Logan turned to Amalia and handed her a small box, “Sorry if my mind was elsewhere today. Had a lot going on.”

“It’s fine, I brought up some deep topics”, Amalia replied as she looked at the box, “Get something from one of the stalls for me?”

“None of the tag rewards piqued my interest”, Logan lied.

Amalia smiled, “Well, thank you anyway. We’ll have to dance again sometime. I am sure you want more breaks from hunting contracts.”

“That’d be nice”, Logan revealed as he turned the handle of his door.

Amalia pecked the Spellthief on the cheek before she left for her own room.

Opening up the small box revealed one of the Force mick rings that the group had used at the game stall. Amalia let out a small sigh with a smile as she slipped it on and gained access to a small handful of magic.

Setting an alarm for the morning, Logan closed his eyes to get around six hours of sleep. Tomorrow, it was vampire time.

Logan arose from a somewhat shorter sleep than usual, though later in the day as it was closer to 9am. He had a meeting with the vampire, Quayvan, at the Gerro Guardhouse for the hunt that offered fifty gold for its completion. Along with the money, spellcasting demon-kin were on the opposition, giving the Spellthief a chance to improve his skills and spells.

Heading downstairs, Logan only saw the barkeep, Yetveka. “Everyone sleeping in it seems”, Logan mentioned as he sat down to some breakfast.

“Most people do after the festival. You’re up kinda early though. Work?” Yetveka replied as she made a bowl for Logan.

“Yup. Taking on what Wriske had issues with.”

“My prayers will go with you on that journey then.”

After finishing his food, Logan left the inn without a sign of anyone else. With a sauntering walk to the guardhouse, the Spellthief kept his spells close to his chest for the trip that was awaiting him after the meeting.

Something that gave the Spellthief pause was that of a larger movement of adventurers on horseback or via carriage. Without using additional abilities or prying deeper, it was at least fifty people.

Looking over the carriages, Logan saw they were carrying the Lightbeam guild marking, that of a radiant light hitting a sword. He hadn’t heard anything about such a large movement, nor something that would take the entire guild.

Grabbing the attention of Patavava, the gashriek with the triangular wrist gauntlets of short staves, Logan asked the man a question, “What’s with the big group?”

“Logan, long time”, the gashriek replied as he pulled over his horse, “We’re cooperating with three other guilds on a massive raid to the north. Apparently, Helm isn’t engaging with the expansion of a mobile dungeon.”

Mobile dungeons had been mentioned in the past, Logan hearing of Lightbeam going to take care of some in the past. One was even a forest that was held within an almost invisible moving dome. Some were just incredibly difficult to spot, while others were gateways into other dimensions with bleed-out points.

A mobile dungeon was almost as dangerous as erupted dungeons, the outcome that people feared was awaiting them after Logan had destroyed the Ice King’s throne. The spellforce that would create new monsters within the confines of an interior would be let free to explore and endanger a wider area.

Almost all mobile, and erupted, dungeons were spellforced, of course, meaning they weren’t made by creatures or with a particular intent. It was hard to track their creation and movements, but with enough seers on hand, they could be found and once they were it was much easier to follow along with their movements.

“I’ve been hearing a bit about Helm recently”, Logan recollected.

“Gauntlet tends to butt heads with Helm. The peace we’re holding might not last forever… either way. This is guild business. Did you have something to talk to one of our members about?”

“Nothing urgent, it can wait till you’re all back.”

Patavava replied almost instantly as if to not forget what they were thinking, “We’ll be gone over a month.”

“What of the Ice King?”

Patavava let out a small smirk, “If he is still coming. We’ll try to be back for then, but other places need us. Some of the Bisectors are staying behind, they will be more than enough for the Ice King.”

The Bisectors were a guild that Logan had been told about before, they had a 50% tax placed on their members, as opposed to Lightbeam’s 20%. However, Bisectors held within it many level 30s and above.

“Alright, well, good luck with the raid”, Logan wished as he took a step away from the gashriek.

“And to you, with your duties here”, Patavava replied as he spun his horse back to the caravan and rejoined them.

Without Lightbeam in Gauntlet, Logan just lost a good portion of his aid in the city. The Spellthief only hoped he wouldn’t need their aid any time soon.

--- *** ---

Time for relaxation.