Fireworks and Daddy Issues

As the sun finally slipped beneath the horizon, Tiraloa came alive.

The beach emptied little by little, while in the narrow streets of the city hundreds of lanterns flared to life, spilling color into the night. The air was thick with the sweetness of sizzling food.

Street musicians played over the din of chattering tourists, laughter and the clink of glasses rising from every corner.

Lis skipped ahead, her eyes glittering like a child’s.

“Unbelievable! Back then it was just a few pitiful stalls, and now... gods, look at it! A full festival, stalls everywhere, music, lanterns… oh, I adore it!”

“Hmph. Looks more like a mob to me,” Bromor muttered, arms crossed.

“Nonsense, it’s tradition!” Lis bounced excitedly, pointing to a stall draped in colorful garments: light, flowing robes with wide sashes.

“See? At the summer festival, everyone wears these. Which means we do too!”

“Yeah, no.” Gus set his hands on his hips. “I’m not strutting around in a damn skirt.”

“It’s culture!” Lis shot back, bristling.

But before he could get another word out, the vendors, urged on by Lis, were already wrapping the group in fabric.

Marcus was draped in a bright red robe, crookedly tied and hanging off him like a curtain, but that didn’t stop him from striking a pose worthy of a general.

“Behold! The mighty Crimson Mage, in his festival robes!”

When a handful of tourists stopped to watch, he grinned, whipped out his staff, and sprayed a foaming fountain of beer into the night air.

“Freeee beer, right over heeere!”

The crowd swelled almost instantly. Some clapped and cheered, others shoved their empty cups under his staff, much to the fury of the nearby beer vendors, who crossed their arms and glared  at him angrily.

“Ugh, watch where you spray that stuff, you got it all over my hair!” Caeriel snapped.

Gus just smirked and muttered, “...That’s what she said,” while being shoved into a blindingly yellow robe that made him look like a walking banana peel.

Lis collapsed into giggles.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Gus grumbled, folding his arms.

“No, no!” Lis said quickly, her grin mischievous. “It suits you perfectly.”

Caeriel hesitated at first, but finally allowed herself to be dressed.

They handed her a deep-blue robe embroidered with silver moons.

She slipped into it with a quiet, effortless grace that instantly drew the eyes of everyone around her.

“You look wonderful!” Lis said brightly, beaming in her own simple green robe.

Caeriel lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, her face still hidden behind her sunglasses.

“It’s fine... I guess.”

Robed up, they dove into the crush.

It got more and more crowded; the heat from the fires and the summer weather put sweat on their brows, and only the occasional sea breeze brought relief.

And the cold drinks…

Marcus was already on his third colorful cocktail, sipping happily through a straw.

Bromor stomped along until he sniffed out a stall selling actual dwarven mead, and that was that.

Lis darted from stand to stand. Sugar pastries here, grilled octopus there, snatching up a fistful of bright paper charms to examine on the spot.

Caeriel hung back, arms folded. The sunglasses were pointless in the dark, but she kept them on anyway.

Then, suddenly, something lit up the sky, followed by a loud boom.

Fireworks blossomed, bright flowers of light unfolding in the black sky and glittering on the sea.

“Nice!” Gus leaned back, head tilted, light flashing across his eyes. 

“Finally, fireworks without some fucking drone show. I got so tired of that shit.”

They laughed, they drank, they let themselves drift.

For a few hours there were no demons, no monsters, no past.

Only music, lantern light, and the fleeting weightlessness of a summer night.

Eventually the alleys emptied, the music faded, and the sound of the sea returned.

---

They were heading back when, out of a dingy tavern by the roadside, two hulking half-giants emerged, hauling a wiry figure they flung hard into the street.

“Get lost!” one barked. “Next time, you’re fish bait!”

The man crawled across the ground, coughing. His clothes were filthy, his once-golden hair a tangle streaked with gray.

In one hand he clutched a half-empty bottle, in the other a crumpled deck of cards. His eyes were glassy, his cheeks flushed with alcohol.

Caeriel froze on the spot.

Gus blinked, glanced from the man to her, and caught the horror in her face.

“Holy shit. Don't tell me that's...”

The elf staggered, oblivious, lifting his bottle with a crooked laugh.

Caeriel was already turning away when his head jerked up.

Bleary red eyes narrowed, fixed on her. The bottle slipped, nearly fell. For a heartbeat he looked sober, shocked.

“D-daughter? …Caeriel? Is that really you? Then... you got my letter!”

His voice cracked, caught between joy, surprise, and panic.

But Caeriel’s face only twisted tighter, as if the words had struck her chest.

“Daughter!? You lost that right long ago! You think I came here for you? Tch. Rot in the gutter where you belong, I don’t care!”

She spun on her heel, tears burning her eyes, and fled alone into the darkened alley.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Gus called, torn on whether to run after her.

Lis came to his side, gaze fixed on the street where Caeriel had vanished. Her brow was furrowed, her usual sparkle gone.

“Maybe… I should follow. Sometimes it’s easier when another woman listens.”

Gus blinked, then gave a short nod.

Bromor grunted. “I’ll go too. No woman should walk alone at this hour.”

“Fine,” Gus muttered. “We’ll catch up later.”

Lis and Bromor slipped into the crowd after Caeriel, leaving only Gus, Marcus… and the elf.

He staggered, nearly collapsing onto the cobblestones. “…Caeriel, I…”

Gus grabbed him by the collar, yanking him half upright.

“Come on, old man.” He studied the elf’s face with open disdain. “Some catch you are. No wonder your own daughter would rather smash your balls than speak to you. And gods, you reek.”

The elf blinked, shame swimming in his glassy eyes, with just a flicker of defiance.

“…A human? W-what do you know? Mind your own damn business!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gus shoved him back against the wall with a sigh. “We need to have a talk.”

The father sagged, silent.

Gus glared at him, then yanked the bottle from his grip, sniffed it, and grimaced. “What the fuck is this swill? Even Marcus wouldn’t drink this.”

“Hey!” Marcus shot back indignantly from right behind him.

Then he tugged Gus aside by the sleeve, draped an arm over his shoulder, and leaned in close.

“Come on, dude. What’s your plan here? You think feeding this bum a hot meal and giving him a haircut is gonna make him respectable again? Maybe we should just stay the fuck out of it.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from Mister ‘We’ll defeat the Demon King!’” Gus shot back, annoyed.

“That was different!” Marcus snapped back. “That was... for love. People do stupid things when they're in...”

He froze, his eyes narrowing as the realization hit. 

His jaw dropped. “Oh, shit Dude… don’t tell me you...”

Gus didn’t answer. His silence said it all.

---

Caught up in their bickering, they failed to notice the gaunt figure that slipped from the shadows, a razor-thin smile cutting across his face.

Two bruisers flanked him. In an instant, Caeriel’s father was yanked up by the collar and driven to his knees with a brutal punch to the ribs.

Without a word, they dragged him across the cobblestones and vanished into a narrow, torch-lit alley.

---

“…I just don’t want Car’ ending up hating every man alive because of that bastard,” Gus muttered at last, more to himself than to Marcus. 

He shrugged, eyes shifting away. “She’s saved my ass plenty of times already… so maybe it’s about time I gave something back. That’s all.”

Marcus smirked, clapped him on the shoulder.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to spell it out.”

Then he turned, and froze.

“…Uh.” Marcus scratched the back of his head, frowning. 

“Where the hell did he go?”

Gus spun around, eyes going wide.

“Goddamn it!”

Then he shot off without another word, and Marcus stumbled after him into the dark.