The scent of roasted almonds and firelight drifted through the dusk. Music played in broken bursts between stalls, laughter cutting sharp through the crowd.
And then—
A familiar weight in the air. Solid. Focused.
Julius.
I didn't wait.
"Julius!"
My staff barely tapped once before I ran. Not gracefully. Not carefully. Just fast.
And then I was in his arms.
He caught me easily. One arm steady around my back, the other ruffling my hair with the same casual warmth I thought I'd forgotten.
"You still don't do normal greetings, huh?" he murmured, voice low.
"You still have a spine," I grinned, hugging tighter.
He chuckled. "Barely. Thanks to you."
Kate appeared beside him, arms crossed, expression somewhere between fond and exasperated.
"You going to tackle me too, or should I brace first?" she said.
I let go of Julius only long enough to launch myself at her.
Kate staggered a little—then gave in, arms coming around me.
I laughed. "You're shorter than I remember."
"I'm going to remember that when you want dessert later."
"Worth it."
Footsteps thundered in next—louder, heavier. Daniel.
"ANNABEL!" he shouted, arms wide like a bear.
He picked me up in one clean swoop, spinning me once like I was some kind of plush toy.
"Still throwing people around?" I wheezed.
He grinned. "Muscles are awesome because of that!."
He set me down, ruffled my hair even more aggressively than Julius had, and turned toward Kate.
"So, what—do we just not get warnings anymore? Just boom, you're back, festival chaos, and—"
He paused.
Brows pinched.
Eyes narrowed—past me.
"Wait."
His mana tensed. His stance changed.
I turned.
Salem stood a short distance behind me. Hands by her sides. Unmoving. Watching.
Daniel's mana darkened.
I could hear him squeeze his fist.
And then—without a word—he moved.
Stone mana surged through his fist. The air thickened as he stepped forward and—
Swung.
Fast. Hard.
Salem didn't flinch. Didn't cast.
She tilted. Simple. Fluid.
The punch sailed past her cheek by inches.
Daniel stumbled a step. Regained balance.
"Why the hell is this demon here," he growled, heat already rising.
I stepped in fast. "She's not who she was. She's with me."
"She tore Zahor in half."
"I know," Salem said. Her voice was quiet. "And I'm not here to erase that. But I'm not the same as I was in that cave."
Kate's jaw tightened. Julius hadn't moved—but his eyes hadn't left Salem once.
"She's apologized," I added. "To me. And now also to all of you."
Daniel looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he exhaled. Slow. Rough.
"…You trust her?"
"I do."
His shoulders dropped. Just a little.
"Then I'm watching her."
Salem nodded. "Understood."
The silence thinned. Less tension. More weight.
Then, like it always is with him, Daniel broke it.
"You in the Scroll Tournament?" he asked suddenly, jabbing a thumb at my chest.
"Obviously," I smirked.
Kate glanced at Julius. "We are too."
Daniel groaned. "Okay but listen—I'm not saying I'm scared. But if we get both you and Salem on the other end of a match? That's not a duel. That's a disaster."
Kate nodded. "Like fighting Lincoln with one boot off."
"Lincoln with one boot off would still make us look powerless," I offered.
"Yup, all of us, i hate how strong he is." said Julius, completely deadpan.
"Well at least we almost got him to burst out laughing, so he's not completely inhuman" Kate added. "When Daniel tripped on his own mana."
"That floor was unstable," Daniel snapped.
Salem blinked. "This is what friendship sounds like?"
"Pain and slander," I said. "And we wouldn't trade it."
She was quiet for a moment. Then:
"I think I like it."
I tilted my head. "Wait—so is it one-on-one matches? Or teams?"
Kate glanced at Daniel. "Teams. Two-on-two."
"Two winners, two metal scrolls," Daniel added. "They figured it was fairer that way."
I looked up at Salem, then back at them. "Okay but Salem's my bond. So we count as one person, right?"
Kate smiled. "Exactly. People with any type of bond still get a partner."
"Oh." I grinned. "That's so much better."
"Excited?" Daniel asked.
"Of course. We're already a team, so now I get to see who they pair me with. It's like a surprise bonus prize."
"You better hope your partner doesn't hold you back," Daniel muttered.
"Doesn't matter," I said. "I'm not losing."
Kate raised an eyebrow. "It's not just about winning. The strongest performances matter too."
"Strongest?" I echoed.
"Yeah. Fighting skill. Magic output. Bonds, weapons, experience—King Beren's watching all of it. He doesn't want just champions. He wants mages he can trust with metal magic."
I blinked. Then smiled.
"Even better."
Daniel muttered something about "stacking the deck," but I was too busy imagining the possibilities.
"Oh, and where's Dr. Lorre?" I turned to Kate.
"With King Beren," she answered. "Diplomatic stuff. She's been his translator, advisor, therapist—depends on the hour."
"Queen of multitasking."
"She says she'll make it to the finals though."
"Good," I said. "She's the only one who doesn't talk in riddles or threats."
"I talk in full sentences," Daniel objected.
"Your sentences are usually 'punch it' or 'is that food.'"
"Those are valid questions," he shrugged.
We all started walking—through the glowing stalls, past music and drifting petals.
And this time—together.
The firecrackers had quieted. The crowd had thinned just enough to breathe.
We found a spot beneath the lanterns—low table, thick cushions, food already steaming in shared bowls.
Fried rice wrapped in leaf pockets. Skewers of meat soaked in herbs. Someone passed around roasted apricots dipped in honey, and Salem looked like she didn't know whether to touch or apologize to them.
"You're allowed to eat," I told her.
She tilted her head. "I wasn't sure if it was ceremonial."
"It's lamb on a stick."
"…But ceremonial lamb?"
"Just eat it."
She did. Slowly. Thoughtfully. Like it might be a trap.
I sat next to Julius. Waited. Then nudged him with my elbow.
"Tell me something," I whispered.
He raised an eyebrow. "I've told you a lot of things."
"No, I mean—this. The festival. The tournament. All this mana and paper dragons. What was it? Before."
He leaned back. Voice low.
"It started as mourning. Believe it or not."
I blinked. "What?"
"Yeah.People lit fires to guide the spirits of the lost. Warriors. Kings. Families who didn't make it through the siege. The light was a way to say we remember you, even now."
"…Huh."
"It got brighter when Lincoln grew up, they say these lands were dark before, i guess his presence is kinda like a balance against the devils. Less grief, more celebration. Some say it means we've healed. Others say we just forget too easy."
I turned my face toward the lanterns. Even through darkness, I could feel their flicker in the outlines.
"Lincoln really is something." I sighed, "but I like that it changed," I said. "That it became something warm. Doesn't mean it forgot."
He glanced toward Salem, who was slowly rotating a rice ball like it was an ancient relic.
"You teaching her anything?" he asked.
"I'm trying."
⸻
Later, we walked.
The air was cooler now. The crowds shifted, but the sounds stayed rich—music, laughter, a distant clash of sparring steel.
Then—horns.
Soft at first, then rising like a tide. Regal. Intentional.
People moved aside. I turned to the sound and felt the weight behind it.
"Here we go," Daniel muttered.
Through the blur of light and shapes, I felt them.
Dense mana structures moving as one. Human. Elven. Dwarven. Even something lighter—graceful and sharp and cold.
Nymphs.
Their mana shimmered like mist caught in moonlight. The others were heavier: stone-sure dwarves, silver-threaded elves, humans pulsing with layered combat wards and charm shields.
Each house carried their banner high. Flags. Sigils. Crests so old you could smell the pride on them.
"Parade of entrants," Julius said, unnecessarily.
Kate added, "They want the other factions to know they're here. It's tradition."
I wrinkled my nose. "It's dumb."
Kate blinked. "Excuse me?"
"They're just showing off. Here's our house, here's our mana type, please judge us accordingly. I already know their affinities without the color show."
Salem nodded beside me. "Strategically, it's disadvantageous. Now your enemies know your rank, your bond, your dominant element…"
Kate folded her arms. "It's not about giving up tactical advantage. It's heritage. These houses—some of them date back hundreds of years. This is how they prove they've stood the test of time."
"Okay, but what does that have to do with being a good fighter?" I asked.
"It doesn't," said Julius. "But it does mean you won't disappear when things get hard. That matters to some people."
Daniel leaned over. "She's not wrong though. You don't see Lincoln marching in with a flag and four backup dancers."
"No," Kate admitted. "Because Lincoln is the flag."
That earned a collective groan.
"Still dumb," I said. "I don't care who my opponent is until they're across from me in the ring."
"Until then," Salem said quietly, "they're just noise."
One of the human houses passed closest to us. Their aura spiked—sharply tuned, laced with illusion. One of them turned as they passed.
I couldn't see his face. Not clearly. Just the outline. Solid. Poised. He looked at me for half a beat too long.
Not aggressive.
Just watching.
And then he was gone with the rest of them, banners flaring in the wind.