CHAPTER EIGHT
The City by the Sea
The bonus from the Saltmaw quest arrived three days after they completed it.
Orion stared at the payment notice, then counted the coins again, then stared some more.
"Fifty silver," he said. "They gave us fifty silver. On top of the thirty."
"The merchant consortium was very grateful!" Nera was practically bouncing around the kitchen, her excitement manifesting in the way it usually did—chaotic movement and excessive cheer. "Della said they've been losing shipments to that infestation for months. Something about the crawlers contaminating their salt stores?"
"Salt stores. In the Saltmaw Caves." Orion pinched the bridge of his nose. "They were harvesting sea salt from caves full of venomous insects."
"Apparently the salt there is very high quality! Something about mineral content?"
"That doesn't make it less stupid."
"No, but it does make us rich!" Nera landed on the table, spreading her tiny arms wide. "We have eighty silver, Orion! That's more money than we've ever had at once! We could buy things! Many things! Things we don't even need!"
"We should probably save most of it."
"We should save some of it and spend the rest on adventures!"
"That's not what adventures means."
"It means whatever I want it to mean! I'm very flexible with definitions!"
Orion looked at his wife—tiny, vibrating with excitement, absolutely certain that money existed to be enjoyed rather than hoarded. He thought about their new house, their new city, the fresh start they'd been given.
"Fine," he said. "We'll take a day off. Explore the city. Maybe buy some things."
Nera's shriek of delight could probably be heard three houses down.
* * *
Coastal City, they discovered, was divided into seven distinct districts.
They'd already seen the Harbor District—all docks and warehouses and the constant smell of fish—and the Trade Quarter where they'd bought Orion's new sword. Their home was in the Cliff District, perched on the slopes overlooking the bay.
That left four more to explore.
"We should be systematic about this," Orion said as they set out into the morning sun. "Start at one end, work our way through—"
"Or we could follow that interesting smell!"
"What interesting smell?"
"That one!" Nera pointed vaguely toward the eastern part of the city. "It smells like sugar and spice and possibly cinnamon? I want to investigate!"
"Nera, we can't just—"
She was already flying ahead, leaving him to follow or be left behind.
Orion sighed and followed.
The smell led them to the Garden District—a sprawling area of tree-lined streets and small parks, where wealthy merchants had built homes surrounded by actual greenery. It was quieter here than the harbor, more refined, the kind of place where people walked small dogs and had opinions about hedge maintenance.
The source of the smell turned out to be a bakery called The Sugared Anchor, which occupied the corner of a pleasant square. The windows displayed pastries that looked almost too beautiful to eat—elaborate confections shaped like ships, sea creatures and shells, all glazed with honey and dusted with powdered sugar.
"I need those," Nera said with absolute conviction. "I need all of those."
"You can't eat all of those. You're three inches tall."
"I'll grow. I'll be human-sized. I'll make room."
"That's not how digestion works."
"You don't know my digestion!"
They bought four pastries—a reasonable compromise that Nera only complained about twice. The baker, a plump gnome woman with flour in her hair and a warm smile, threw in a fifth for free when Nera complimented her icing technique.
"You're new to the city," the gnome observed, wrapping their purchases in waxed paper. "I'd remember a pixie like you."
"We just arrived! From Silverbrook! We're adventurers! We killed a cave full of monsters!" Nera beamed. "Your shop smells amazing. I could smell it from three districts away!"
"That's the cinnamon. I import it special from the southern islands." The gnome leaned on her counter, clearly happy to chat. "You picked a good time to arrive. The Tidefall Festival starts in five days. Biggest celebration of the year."
"Festival?" Nera's eyes went wide. "What kind of festival?"
"Oh, it's wonderful. Three days of parades and games and competitions. The whole city participates. There's a boat race, and a cooking contest, and they crown a Tide King and Queen based on some silly contest." She chuckled. "My niece won two years ago. Hasn't stopped talking about it since."
"That sounds incredible!" Nera turned to Orion with the look of someone who had already made a decision and was merely informing him of it. "We have to stay for the festival. We absolutely have to."
"We live here now. We're not going anywhere."
"Then we have to participate! Enter things! Win prizes!"
"I don't think—"
"Prizes, Orion!"
The gnome laughed. "Your wife has the right spirit. The festival's not just for locals—anyone can enter most of the competitions. Registration opens tomorrow at the Guild Square." She slid their pastries across the counter. "Come back during the festival. I make special tidefall buns that sell out every year."
"We'll be here!" Nera grabbed one of the pastries and took a bite that was physically larger than her head. Crumbs went everywhere. She didn't seem to notice. "Delicious! Best pastry I've ever had! You're an artist!"
The gnome glowed at the praise.
Orion collected his wife and their purchases and retreated before Nera could promise them into anything else.
* * *
The Stone Quarter was the oldest part of the city—buildings of weathered granite that had stood for centuries, streets worn smooth by generations of feet. The architecture here was heavier, more defensive, remnants of a time when Coastal City had been a fortress rather than a trading hub.
"This is where the government buildings are," Orion observed, noting the official flags and the guards posted at various doors. "City hall, courts, that sort of thing."
"Boring," Nera declared through a mouthful of pastry.
"Necessary."
"Boringly necessary."
They didn't linger long in the Stone Quarter. The atmosphere was too serious, too official, too much like the noble courts Orion had spent his youth trying to escape. Some things were better appreciated from a distance.
The Temple District, by contrast, was beautiful.
Shrines and churches lined the streets, dedicated to every god and spirit Orion had ever heard of and several he hadn't. The architecture varied wildly—elegant elven spires next to squat dwarven prayer halls next to open-air sanctuaries where nature spirits were venerated under the sky.
"So many gods," Nera murmured. She had grown quieter here, her usual energy subdued. "Humans pray to so many different things."
"You don't pray?"
"My people have different beliefs." She was choosing her words carefully, Orion noticed. "We respect the divine, but we don't... worship the same way. It's complicated."
"Everything about you is complicated."
"Is that a complaint?"
"An observation." He offered his hand, and she landed on it, her tiny weight familiar and comforting. "You can tell me about it someday. When you're ready."
"Someday," she agreed. But she leaned into his palm, and the tension in her small body eased.
They continued their exploration.
* * *
The final district was the one they'd been warned about—the Undertow.
It sprawled along the southern edge of the city, a maze of narrow alleys and cramped buildings that seemed to lean against each other for support. The streets were dirtier here, the people warier, the guards notably absent.
"This is where the merchant warned us about," Orion said quietly. "Strange things after dark."
"It doesn't feel strange." Nera was looking around with curious interest rather than concern. "It feels poor. Forgotten."
She was right. The Undertow wasn't sinister so much as neglected—a part of the city that had been allowed to decay while the wealthier districts prospered. The people here weren't criminals, mostly. They were workers, fishermen, laborers who couldn't afford to live anywhere else.
A group of children ran past, chasing each other with sticks that might have been swords in their imagination. One of them stopped to stare at Nera, eyes wide with wonder.
"Are you a fairy?" the child asked—a human girl, maybe six years old, with tangled hair and a patched dress.
"I'm a pixie!" Nera flew down to hover at the girl's eye level. "What's your name?"
"Tessa." The girl reached out tentatively, and Nera let her touch one iridescent wing. "You're so pretty. Like a butterfly, but better."
"Thank you! You're pretty too. I like your dress."
"It was my sister's." Tessa didn't seem embarrassed by the hand-me-down. "Are you here for the festival? My mum says we might get to see the parade this year if we're good."
"We are here for the festival! We just learned about it today!" Nera dug into the bag of pastries and pulled out one of the remaining treats—it was bigger than she was in this form, but she managed. "Here. Festival requires sweets. It's a rule."
Tessa's eyes went even wider. "Really? For me?"
"For you. Enjoy!"
The girl grabbed the pastry and ran off to rejoin her friends, already shouting about her good fortune. Nera watched her go with a soft expression.
"You just gave away a third of our food," Orion said.
"She needed it more than we did." Nera returned to his shoulder. "Besides, we can buy more. We're rich, remember?"
"Eighty silver isn't rich."
"It's richer than her." She settled against his neck. "I like this city. It has problems, but the people feel... real. Does that make sense?"
"It does."
"Silverbrook was nice, but it felt like everyone was playing a role. Here, people are just... living. Even in the hard parts." She was quiet for a moment. "I think we can be happy here."
"I think so too."
They left the Undertow as the afternoon sun began its descent, carrying two pastries, a growing familiarity with their new home, and the warm feeling that came from unexpected kindness.
* * *
The market was their last stop—a vast open-air sprawl near the harbor where it seemed like half the city had gathered to buy and sell.
Stalls offered everything imaginable: fresh fish still glistening with seawater, bolts of fabric in every color, weapons and armor, jewelry and trinkets, mysterious bottles of liquid that vendors promised could cure anything from baldness to bad luck. The noise was overwhelming—hagglers arguing over prices, hawkers shouting their wares, children darting between legs while parents shouted after them.
"This is chaos," Orion said.
"This is wonderful!" Nera was already flying toward a stall selling wind chimes made of shells. "Look at these! They're beautiful! We need one! We need seven!"
"We don't need any wind chimes."
"We need exactly as many wind chimes as I decide we need!"
They compromised on one wind chime—a delicate arrangement of pale pink shells that made a soft, musical sound when the breeze caught it. Nera also somehow acquired a scarf (for Orion, who didn't wear scarves), a small potted succulent (for the garden she was planning), and a wooden puzzle box that she couldn't figure out how to open but insisted was "full of potential."
"You're a menace," Orion told her as they navigated toward the market's edge.
"I'm an enthusiast. There's a difference."
"The difference is about four silver at this point."
"Money well spent on improving our quality of life!"
"We don't need a puzzle box."
"We don't know what we need until we have it!"
A voice cut through the market noise: "Orion? Is that you?"
Orion stopped. The voice was familiar, but it couldn't be—they were hundreds of miles from Silverbrook—
"It is you!" A figure emerged from the crowd, pushing past a fabric merchant and nearly knocking over a display of hats. "I can't believe it! What are the odds?"
Orion stared.
"Vex?"
* * *
Vex Thornwood stood before them, grinning like a man who had just won a bet with the universe. His arm was out of the sling now, and he was wearing new armor—better quality than his old set, polished to a shine that suggested recent purchase.
Behind him, looking significantly less thrilled about this reunion, was Denna.
"What are you doing here?" Orion managed.
"We transferred! Just like you!" Vex clapped him on the shoulder like they were old friends rather than reluctant acquaintances. "After you left, Silverbrook felt... I don't know, empty? The good quests were all taken, the guild was getting boring, and Denna said we needed a change of scenery."
"I said we needed to stop before you challenged another minotaur," Denna corrected. "The change of scenery was a side effect."
"Same thing!" Vex's attention shifted to Nera, who was watching this exchange with barely contained glee. "And there's the little pixie! Still haven't turned into a human lately?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Nera said sweetly. "I've always been exactly this size. You must have been seeing things."
"I know what I saw."
"Do you, though?"
"Yes! You were—" Vex stopped, visibly wrestling with the memory. "You know what, never mind. It doesn't matter. What matters is we're all here now! In the same city! It's fate!"
"It's coincidence," Denna said.
"Fate disguised as coincidence!"
"That's not how fate works."
"You don't know how fate works! Nobody knows how fate works! That's what makes it fate!"
Orion looked at Denna. Denna looked at Orion. They shared a moment of mutual suffering.
"How long have you been in the city?" Orion asked.
"Three days! We just finished our first quest yesterday—cleared out some bandits from an old lighthouse. Very dramatic. There was a fight on the stairs. I almost fell but I didn't." Vex was practically vibrating with energy. "And now we run into you! In the market! It's perfect! We should team up again! Take on some real challenges!"
"We did the Saltmaw Caves," Nera offered.
Vex's enthusiasm dimmed slightly. "The caves that killed three parties?"
"We killed the queen," Orion said. "Cleared the whole infestation."
"You—" Vex's mouth opened and closed. "You cleared Saltmaw? On your first week here?"
"First quest, actually."
There was a long pause. Vex's expression cycled through disbelief, jealousy, grudging respect, and finally settled on competitive determination.
"Well," he said. "That's... impressive. Very impressive. But just wait. Denna and I are going to do something even more impressive. Something legendary."
"We absolutely are not," Denna said.
"Something reasonably impressive, then!"
"That's more realistic."
"You're ruining my moment!"
"Your moment was already ruined. I'm just acknowledging it."
Nera was laughing now, bright and unrestrained. "I missed you two! You're so funny together!"
"We're not funny," Vex protested. "We're professional adventurers engaged in serious professional discussions."
"You're hilarious," Nera insisted. "The funniest."
"That's... actually kind of nice? Thank you?"
"You're welcome!"
Orion pinched the bridge of his nose. The quiet day of exploration had officially ended. The Vex era of Coastal City had begun.
May the gods have mercy on them all.
* * *
They ended up at a tavern.
It was inevitable, really. Vex insisted on "catching up properly," which meant finding a table, ordering drinks, and launching into an exhaustive recounting of everything that had happened in Silverbrook after Orion and Nera left.
"—and then Pip challenged this guy to a duel, right? This big orc mercenary who'd been talking trash about Silverbrook adventurers. And everyone thought Pip was going to get destroyed, but they didn't! They actually held their own for almost two whole minutes before Mira broke it up!"
"Pip got in a fight?" Nera looked delighted. "Our Pip?"
"Your Pip has developed what I would call 'excessive confidence,'" Denna said dryly. "Someone told them they had potential and they took it too literally."
"Was it you?" Denna asked Orion. "Did you tell them they had potential?"
"I might have implied it."
"Then this is your fault. Congratulations, you created a monster."
"They're not a monster. They're just... growing."
"Growing directly into trouble." But Denna's expression softened slightly. "They miss you, you know. Both of you. They asked about you every day until we left."
Something twisted in Orion's chest. He'd known leaving would be hard for Pip, but hearing about it secondhand made it worse somehow. More real.
"They're okay, though?" he asked.
"They're fine. Better than fine, actually. They've been taking quests regularly, building a reputation. Mira keeps an eye on them." Denna took a drink. "They're handling it. Kids are resilient."
"Pip isn't really a kid anymore," Nera said quietly. "They're almost seventeen now."
"Seventeen is still a kid."
"To you, maybe. To them, it's almost grown."
Vex, who had been momentarily distracted by a passing serving girl, rejoined the conversation. "The important thing is that we're all together again! Well, most of us. But still! This calls for celebration!"
"We've been celebrating for an hour," Orion pointed out.
"Then we should celebrate more! The Tidefall Festival is in five days! We should enter the competitions together! As a team!"
"What competitions?"
"I don't know! All of them!" Vex's enthusiasm was, as always, undampened by details. "There's a boat race! And combat exhibitions! And some kind of treasure hunt thing! We'd dominate!"
"You want to enter a boat race," Denna said flatly. "You. Who gets seasick on ferries."
"I've been working on it!"
"Working on what? Your ability to vomit less?"
"Among other things!"
Nera had perked up at the mention of activities. "I want to know more about the treasure hunt. What kind of treasure? How do you hunt it? Is there actual treasure or is it metaphorical?"
"I think it's actual treasure," Vex said. "Or prizes, anyway. They hide things around the city and teams compete to find them first. The winners get gold and the title of Tide Champions."
"Tide Champions," Orion repeated. "That's the official title."
"Apparently! The city takes this festival very seriously!"
Orion looked at Nera. Nera looked at Orion. Her eyes were doing that sparkly thing they did when she wanted something badly and was trying to convince him through sheer force of adorable.
"We could enter," she said. "Just for fun. No pressure."
"You don't know the meaning of 'no pressure.'"
"I know it conceptually! In theory!"
"In theory isn't the same as in practice."
"But we could try! It would be a bonding experience!"
"Bonding with who?"
"Everyone! Us! Vex and Denna! The city itself!" She flew up to hover in front of his face, tiny hands clasped pleadingly. "Please? It sounds like so much fun. And we deserve fun. After everything."
She wasn't wrong. They'd been running, worrying, looking over their shoulders for weeks. A festival—something bright and joyful and uncomplicated—might be exactly what they needed.
"Fine," he said. "We'll enter some competitions. But I'm not getting on a boat."
"Ha!" Vex slammed his mug on the table. "That's what I said! And then Denna convinced me!"
"I did not convince you. You convinced yourself and blamed me."
"Same thing!"
"It's really not."
The evening continued in that vein—Vex making grand proclamations, Denna deflating them, Nera encouraging chaos, and Orion wondering how his quiet life had gotten so complicated.
But when they finally left the tavern, walking home under a sky full of stars with his wife on his shoulder and something like hope in his chest, he found he didn't mind the complications as much as he'd expected.
The Tidefall Festival was coming. They had friends—or whatever Vex and Denna qualified as—in the city. They had money, a home, and the promise of adventure without danger.
What could possibly go wrong?
* * *
Later that night, as Orion lay in bed listening to Nera's soft breathing beside him, he thought about the day.
The city was larger than he'd expected. More diverse. More alive. Every district had its own character, its own people, its own stories waiting to be discovered. They could spend years here and never see everything.
He thought about the festival—the way the gnome baker had talked about it, the way even the children in the Undertow knew about it. A celebration that brought the whole city together. That sounded... nice. Normal. The kind of thing regular people did in regular lives.
Maybe that's what they could be here. Regular people. At least for a little while.
Nera stirred beside him, murmuring something in her sleep. He couldn't make out the words, but her tone was happy. Dreaming good dreams.
He pulled her closer and let himself drift off.
Tomorrow, they would register for the festival competitions. Tomorrow, they would start building their new life in earnest.
Tonight, they were safe and warm and together.
Tonight, that was everything.
— End of Chapter Eight —