The small Swiftwind family settled onto the cushions reserved for them near the center of the stage area. Dem sat between Gram and Ai, his sharp eyes already studying the setup.
Two Travelers crouched beneath the stage, ready to create sound effects—footsteps, sudden falls, thunder, even the patter of rain. If you looked closely, small vents dotted the floorboards, ready to release fog or smoke on cue.
The first performance was a drama—a young woman who fled home to join the Travelers rather than submit to an arranged marriage. Elsie played the lead. Her timing and flair held the audience captive, her voice rich, her dark eyes flashing as she poured herself into the role.
"She looks at Dem too much," Ai muttered. "A woman her age should show more restraint."
Dem shrugged. "It's just showmanship. The street performers in Thaigmaal do the same thing—pick someone to focus on. Keeps the crowd engaged."
The play ended in tragedy—the heroine throwing herself from a cliff rather than be forced back to her family.
Gram sighed deeply. "That was so sad. She shouldn't have tried to contact her sister. You could tell it would end badly."
Yada nodded. "It was obvious the sister would tell the fiancé. She coveted him the whole time."
Dem frowned. "Wait—the younger sister liked the older one's fiancé, while the older sister already loved someone else? Why didn't the parents just swap the sisters?"
Ai burst out laughing. "Swap out sisters? That's not how it works, dasai."
Dem unscrewed his small flask of highberry, took a drink, and passed it to Ai. "Why not?"
"Because," Ai said matter-of-factly, taking a sip before handing it on, "then the older sister would've decided she liked the fiancé after all."
Both Gram and Yada nodded solemnly in agreement.
Dem blinked at them. "That makes no sense."
"That's love," Gram said, patting his arm. "It's not supposed to."
Dem sighed, leaning back on his cushion. "Seems inefficient."
The second performance also featured Elsie, this time opposite a handsome Traveler with a rich baritone voice that carried easily across the crowd.
Though he played the supporting role, his character was steady, thoughtful — someone Dem found far more relatable. The female lead, however, ultimately killed her lover in what was meant to be a staged duel.
When the final note faded, the audience erupted. Tribals clapped, shouted, and stamped their feet as the actors came forward to bow, faces flushed with satisfaction.
Dem's expression, however, was pure confusion. "She killed him? Why would she do that?"
"They were from rival families," Ai explained patiently.
"Yeah?" Dem frowned. "But the duel was supposed to be staged."
"Once their affair became public, both families would've been destroyed," Yada added, clearly moved.
"So… he just let her kill him?" Dem asked, incredulous.
Gram nodded, dabbing her eyes. "It was very selfless."
"And one-sided," Dem muttered. "Why didn't she sacrifice herself?"
Yada sighed. "We all have roles to play, Dem."
"Like a festival goose?" Dem asked, half-laughing. "Was this supposed to be a comedy?"
Ai groaned and smacked his shoulder lightly, while Gram snorted into her sleeve, trying and failing to hide her laughter. Even Yada's lips twitched despite herself.
The music swelled again, but for the Swiftwind family, it was Dem's question that hung in the air — the irreverent honesty of someone who could never quite understand why people made everything so complicated.
"I don't want to be a festival goose," Dem muttered under his breath as the Travelers shifted from plays to songs and dancing. The performance grew livelier, with musicians coaxing tribals onto the stage to sing, laugh, and join in the dances.
Soon, both Ai and Dem had been pulled up at different times.
Ai returned first—breathless, laughing, her cheeks flushed. "What did you think?" she asked, spinning once for her mother.
Yada smiled. "Maybe stick with archery a little longer."
Gram nodded gravely, the moment stretching until both women burst into laughter.
Ai rolled her eyes. "Very funny. I almost started crying." She turned back toward the stage. "My dasai's a good dancer, though. Although that woman…"
Gram followed her gaze. Elsie and Dem were dancing together—her dark curls a blur, his movements effortless. "Their personalities clash," Gram said, "but they share a certain grace."
Yada leaned forward slightly, noting how Ai's attention flickered toward the far left of the stage, where several members of the Redfox clan sat watching. "Telomere has a pleasing personality," she observed.
Gram's eyes sparkled. "And not bad to look at. Finished his Massat too. We should keep him in mind."
Ai's dark face went scarlet. "It's too early for that. Years and months too early."
Dem reappeared, plopping down between them, still catching his breath. He immediately sensed the sudden quiet. "I miss anything?"
"No, dasai," Ai said quickly.
"Matchmaking," Gram supplied cheerfully, ignoring her granddaughter's horrified look.
Dem blinked, then sighed. "I should've stayed on stage."
A shadow loomed over the group, startling everyone except Dem, who had sensed her approach.
The woman standing before them was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a sleeveless shirt that showcased her corded arms and sun-bronzed skin. A thick black braid streaked with red hung over one shoulder, and though her frame was imposing, her features were surprisingly delicate — high cheekbones, a pointed chin, and warm brown eyes. Looking closer, she was actually quite beautiful.
"Dem," she said, her voice low but pleasant, her smile instantly softening her strong presence. "I was on guard duty. May I sit with your Swiftwind family?"
Dem noticed the cushion tucked under her arm and rose, gesturing to his spot. "Gram, Yada — this is Teya Bearclaw. One of the circuts I recovered belonged to her." He motioned to the space beside him. "Please, join us."
Teya smiled shyly, ducking her head as she settled onto the cushion. Gram and Yada exchanged knowing glances before greeting her warmly.
Ai returned her smile. "We haven't met officially. I'm Ai."
"I love your duva," Teya said. "I wanted to wear mine, but they pulled me into guard duty instead. Did I miss much?"
"No," Dem said with a grin. "Just two plays where perfectly normal people made terrible choices and called it life."
Teya laughed softly. "Oh… love stories, then?"
"Hah! Yes." Dem chuckled. "I think the fireworks are next. And there was dancing too — my dosu showed them how it's done."
Ai arched an eyebrow, trying to gauge if he was teasing her. "I did my best."
The sharp tang of sulfur drifted on the wind. Dem's head tilted slightly. "It's starting."
A thunderous crack split the air, startling half the crowd as a column of sparks shot upward, leaving a glittering trail before corkscrewing wildly and bursting into a cascade of bright white flowers.
Gasps and delighted laughter rippled through the Gathering. Three more bursts followed in quick succession, painting the night sky in streaks of red and gold. A faint haze of smoke rolled over the crowd.
Dem retrieved his yurka from his storage ring and handed it to Gram. "Here."
"Thank you, dear." Gram covered her nose, her gaze never leaving the display as more tribals nearby followed suit, shielding their faces from the drifting smoke.
Dem used his sleeve, unbothered by the sting in the air.
The fireworks grew more intricate — flowers gave way to fountains, fountains to winged beasts that soared across the heavens, then to great herds of glowing creatures galloping through the dark.
Teya sat quietly beside him, her expression serene. Every so often she leaned close to whisper a comment, or to answer one of Ai's questions, her light laugh swallowed by the rolling thunder of explosions above.
The finale came in a blinding wave of color — brilliant reds, sparkling greens, and flashing whites that turned the night into day. For a long moment, it felt as if the stars themselves had fallen to earth.
When the last echo faded, the Swiftwind family sat in a comfortable silence, the air thick with smoke and wonder. The crowd clapped and shouted as the final sparks drifted into the dark.
"Dem…" Teya leaned closer, her voice low. "Might I join your sentry force?"
Dem turned to her. "I've never seen you carry a bow."
Teya smiled, aware of his teasing. Among the clans, women typically favored bows, men the spear — but Bearclaw women were different. "Our women learn the spear first," she said. "I can use a bow, but I'm only average."
"You also developed an elemental ability," Dem recalled. "Earth-based, right?"
Teya nodded. "I can strengthen iron and steel armor, shape rock and soil, and sense rare minerals."
Dem grinned. "You're in."
Yada leaned over, catching the last of their words. "Dem, you should walk Teya back to her clan before it gets too late."
"That's not necessary," Teya said quickly.
"I don't mind," Dem replied, standing. He hadn't been inside the Bearclaw camp since the night of the circut hunt.
As they walked, Teya slipped her arm through his. The pair made an unusual sight — the tall, broad-shouldered Bearclaw huntress beside the smaller Swiftwind fosterling, looking more like an adult escorting a child than two peers separated by only a few years.
"My dosu wants to join the sentry force too," Teya said with a laugh.
"Would you recommend him?" Dem asked.
"Of course." She chuckled. "He's a giant, even by Bearclaw standards — but smart, level-headed. You met him after the circut hunt."
"Right," Dem said, recalling a mountain-sized tribal who'd sized him up like a stray pup. "He told me to be on my best behavior."
"Oh no," Teya groaned, covering her face. "He's a bit overprotective."
"Probably a requirement," Dem said with a grin. "My dosu is the same way."
Their laughter carried softly across the camp road, mingling with the fading hum of the Gathering — a quiet moment of peace beneath the smoke-streaked sky.