“Brother! You’re back!” she cried. Her voice was high and filled with relief. “I thought she sent you to take care of the—”

Fiero’s hand clamped over her mouth before she could finish. “Yes, yes. I’m back,” he said hastily. He forced a smile and gestured toward his companions. “And I’ve made new friends. Meet Alexa and Daniel.”

The girl pulled free, straightening as she turned her bright eyes toward them. “I’m Fiori. This dummy’s sister.” She jabbed a thumb at Fiero. “I’m the brains. He’s the brawn.”

Daniel let out a small laugh, uncertain but charmed by her bluntness. “Daniel. Traveler.”

“Alexa,” she added with a polite bow.

Fiori’s smile was quick but faded just as fast. “I’m going to the church,” she announced, her tone shifting. “To pray before the feast.”

Fiero waved a hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. But be back before the night’s acts begin. Our Lady will appear, and you won’t want to miss it.”

“I’ll be there,” Fiori replied, though her sigh suggested reluctance. She turned to leave, but not before casting a long, strange look at Alexa. For a heartbeat, Alexa thought she saw something in the girl’s eyes — not fear, not hostility, but a flicker of intent, like a signal sent in silence. Then the moment was gone. Fiori turned sharply and hurried away.

Alexa frowned, unsettled.

Fiero seemed not to notice. With a grin, he thrust a box into their hands. Inside was a stack of pillowy pastries dusted with sugar, their golden crusts still warm.

“Thermyrian doughnuts,” he announced proudly. “The pride of our festival. Try one!”

Alexa hesitated. Her instincts whispered caution — poisoned food, enchanted sweets, some trap cloaked in sugar and warmth. She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

Daniel, of course, had no such reservations. He plucked one up, bit into it with enthusiasm, and nearly melted where he stood. “By the gods,” he groaned, custard cream filling his mouth. “This is heaven.”

“I know!” Fiero pointed at Alexa with mock offense. “And you refuse? A tragedy!”

“I’ll survive,” Alexa replied curtly, folding her arms. Better hunger than death by doughnut.

Daniel licked sugar from his fingers, utterly content. Alexa’s expression made it clear she found him insufferable, but she held her tongue.

The festival swelled as the day wore on. Musicians filled the air with rhythm, dancers spun with ribbons trailing behind them, and stalls overflowed with goods. The townsfolk sang, clapped, and drank, yet beneath it all Alexa felt the undercurrent of something else. The laughter was too loud, the cheer too eager, like actors performing for an unseen master.

By the time dusk crept in, lanterns had been hung across the square. Their warm light flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows. Slowly, the music died. The crowd shifted toward the great bonfire at the square’s center, its flames dwindling until only embers glowed.

Alexa and Daniel searched the crowd for Fiero but lost him among the press of bodies. They lingered at the edge, watchful, uncertain.

Then the fire went out.

The square plunged into darkness. A murmur rippled through the crowd, quickly silenced as every hand lifted a lantern. Hundreds of small flames bloomed, their glow casting the square in a sea of gold and red. Sparks drifted upward like stars torn loose from the sky.

From the northern pathway, figures emerged. At their head was a woman whose very presence stole the breath from Alexa’s lungs.

Her hair glowed as though lit from within, a torrent of fire cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes burned like magma, hot and unyielding. Her skin gleamed with a sunlit sheen, as though the heat of the forge had kissed her. Every step she took made the air shimmer faintly.

Behind her marched a knight clad in full metal, visor lowered, face hidden. His armor reflected the firelight, every step ringing against the stone.

Whispers tore through the crowd as the woman reached the bonfire and raised her hand.

“Thermyra!” she cried, her voice resonant, carrying like a bell. “My people! We rejoice tonight, another year beneath my rule!”

The square erupted into cheers. Men and women screamed with joy, their voices raw, their faces fevered.

Alexa’s stomach turned. The cheer sounded wrong. Too desperate, too unified, as if commanded rather than freely given.

The woman smiled. “Let the festivities begin!”

She lowered her hand, and the bonfire exploded back to life. Flames roared skyward, embers raining down. They scattered over the crowd but did not burn; people reached upward as though blessed.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the woman vanished, extinguished like a flame doused with water.

Only the knight remained.

He lifted his sword high, its blade gleaming in the firelight. “Another year under our Lady’s grace!” he bellowed. “Rejoice!”

The crowd screamed again, wild with fervor.

Then the knight descended the steps, melting into the shadows of a group of cloaked figures. In moments, he too was gone.

Alexa and Daniel exchanged a sharp look.

“That was an outer god,” Alexa whispered.

“Must’ve been,” Daniel said. His bravado was gone, replaced by unease. “But… this doesn’t fit. Everyone looks happy. No talk of missing soldiers. And the Lady… she seemed almost kind.”

“Appearances deceive,” Alexa warned.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in Alexa’s ears as silence reclaimed the square. The Lady was gone, the knight vanished, yet the townsfolk remained transfixed for several heartbeats as if unwilling to blink in case the vision returned. Then, like a storm breaking, the festival surged back to life.

Musicians struck their drums harder, strings sang, and flutes trilled sharp and high. Dancers leapt into the firelight, their ribbons trailing like tongues of flame. Laughter swelled, wine spilled from brimming cups, and the air grew heavy with roasted meats and sweetened smoke.

Alexa and Daniel slipped away from the square, their steps carrying them toward the quieter alleys at its edge. Shadows clung to the walls here, broken only by the flicker of lanterns. The revelry seemed muffled, distant, yet it never fully disappeared.

“That had to be an outer god,” Alexa said again, more firmly this time. Her voice was low, but her conviction rang clear.

Daniel nodded, though his brow furrowed. “It doesn’t add up. You told me soldiers vanish, that the place is cursed. But look at them. They’re celebrating. No fear, no mourning. They worship her like she’s salvation itself.”

Alexa’s gaze swept the darkened corners of the alley. “You trust too quickly. Smiles can hide chains. Joy can be forced.”

Before Daniel could reply, a familiar clap landed on his shoulder, nearly making him jump.

“There you are!” Fiero’s voice rang out like a bell. He appeared from the shadows, grinning wide, as if he’d been beside them all along. “Why so glum? The night has barely begun!”

Alexa’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you go?”

“Go?” Fiero blinked, tilting his head with mock innocence. “I never left.”

Alexa opened her mouth to argue, but Daniel, perhaps eager to deflect, stepped in. “Doesn’t matter. What now?”

“What now?” Fiero repeated, as though the answer were obvious. “Fun! There’s a contest to the south — who can eat the spiciest peppers without fainting. And right here,” he gestured grandly, “a drinking competition that would topple even the strongest of men. Which shall it be?”

Before Alexa could refuse, Daniel’s eyes lit up. “Drinking,” he said immediately.

Fiero’s grin widened. “Knew you’d say that. Come on!”

He guided them back into the heart of the festivities. Torches lined the square, their flames guttering in the evening breeze. Long tables had been set out, mugs clattering against wood as men and women laughed, their cheeks already flushed. The scent of strong liquor cut through the air, acrid and heavy, making Alexa wrinkle her nose.

Daniel, however, looked like a child stepping into a toy shop. He took his place at the table, grinning at his competitors, most of whom were already swaying.

“Rules are simple,” Fiero explained with flourish, hopping onto a bench. “Drink until you can’t stand. The last one standing wins!”

A cheer went up, mugs slammed onto the table, and the first round was poured.

The liquor was thick, almost syrupy, and reeked of something between fire and rot. Daniel threw his back with a flourish, grimaced at the burn, then slammed the cup down with a triumphant shout. His competitors followed, some less gracefully.

The second round came, then the third. Alexa watched with growing irritation as Daniel leaned forward, cheeks red, grinning like an idiot. She stood with arms crossed, her eyes scanning the crowd rather than the contest, noting the way townsfolk stared too long, or how cloaked figures lingered at the edges of light.

By the fifth round, sweat glistened on Daniel’s brow. By the seventh, he was laughing louder than anyone else, his voice ragged but unyielding. At the tenth, his head wobbled but he was still upright, grinning defiantly as his final opponent slumped forward onto the table.

“Champion!” someone shouted. Cheers erupted, hands pounding the table in rhythm.

Daniel raised his cup high, though his grip wavered, and bellowed something incoherent. He might have been proud, or simply drunk. Alexa stepped forward, catching his arm before he toppled sideways.

“You’re hopeless,” she muttered, half dragging him from the table.

Fiero bounded after them, laughing loudly. “Impressive! Truly! Few outsiders can stomach our drink, but your friend… he may have earned himself a place in Thermyra’s stories.”

Alexa shot him a withering look. “We’re not here for stories.”

Fiero only grinned wider, undeterred. “Then you’ll find yourselves sorely mistaken. Thermyra is nothing but stories, woven by flame and song. Whether you like it or not, you’re already part of one.”

Alexa ignored him, guiding Daniel away from the crowd. The festival blared behind them, but the alleys grew quiet again, shadows stretching longer in the torchlight. Daniel stumbled beside her, still chuckling to himself, his words slurred.

“See?” he mumbled. “Told you… heroes… can handle anything.”

Alexa tightened her grip on his arm. “You can’t even handle a drink.”

Yet her gaze remained wary, scanning the rooftops, the corners, the silent windows that watched without faces.

Something in Thermyra pulsed beneath the revelry, a heartbeat too loud, too steady. The goddess had vanished, yet her presence lingered like smoke, clinging to every stone. Alexa felt it pressing on her chest, heavy, suffocating.

And though Daniel stumbled along, drunk and foolish, even he must have felt it. His laughter faltered at times, fading into uneasy silence before he forced it back.

Behind them, the bonfire roared higher, sparks scattering into the night sky. The people cheered, their voices wild, their joy too sharp.

Alexa did not cheer. She only walked, dragging her companion forward, her jaw set, her eyes hard.

For she knew the truth: no festival, no feast, no goddess’s smile could mask the chains hidden beneath Thermyra’s fire.