# **Early in the day** The market square thrummed with vibrant energy, stalls overflowing with colorful trinkets, rich aromas drifting from food vendors, and lively music weaving through the crowds. Bright banners fluttered in the afternoon sunlight, celebrating the inaugural Founding of Rivermarch Festival—a day filled with excitement and promise. At the bustling heart of it all, Linzi stood hunched over a wide wooden table, cluttered with delicate alchemical vials, hastily inked sketches, and pages covered in frantic notes. Her fingers traced anxiously over her parchments, her expressive eyes darting with both excitement and apprehension. Beside her, Mirielle moved with practiced grace, blending a fine emerald powder with shimmering silver dust, her raven-black hair escaping from its messy ponytail in charmingly chaotic strands. “After Pitax’s obscenely gaudy arrival,” Linzi murmured mischievously, a conspiratorial gleam lighting her gaze, "I realized subtlety just won't do. This performance has to be unforgettable—something to really put them in their place." Mirielle’s lips curved into a sly, teasing smile, violet eyes glittering with delight. "Provocation and spectacle? Oh Linzi, darling, you know exactly how to win my heart. Tell me more." Linzi’s excitement built quickly, brightening her face as she eagerly explained. "Well, first I thought fireworks—but then I realized we need more drama, more narrative, a real story! Something they’ll whisper about long after they've flown away on their ridiculous airship." Mirielle tilted her head coyly, gently swirling the contents of her vial as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. "A full theatrical experience, then? How delightfully ambitious of you. But who exactly do you envision holding center stage for this little spectacle? It sounds demanding, even exhausting..." Linzi gave Mirielle an impish grin, eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, please. You’re fishing for compliments, Mirielle. Who else has your flair, your dramatic intensity—the perfect voice to command attention and leave Pitax stunned?" Mirielle raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise even as her smile widened knowingly. "Me? On stage, captivating the masses? You're not just stirring the pot, Linzi—you're kicking it over entirely." Linzi laughed lightly, pushing another parchment toward Mirielle, her eyes shining with fervor. "I learned from the best. This performance starts slow, deceptive in its subtlety, then bursts into defiant spectacle. It'll mock their arrogance, capture Rivermarch’s struggle, and crescendo triumphantly. With your voice and my fireworks, we’ll etch a message across the heavens themselves." Mirielle chuckled warmly, leaning closer still, her voice playful and provocative. "You truly know how to flatter a lady, Linzi. A tempting offer. Reckless, defiant—exactly my style." "That's the spirit!" Linzi enthused, barely able to contain her growing excitement. "Now, we just need more hands to pull it off perfectly." As if conjured by their need, a loud, exuberant cry burst through the festival's hum. "LINZI? MIRIELLE?" Linzi spun around in delighted surprise, immediately recognizing the dramatic entrance. Sparkfang barreled through the crowd toward them, vibrant red-orange scales gleaming, soot-black streaks highlighting his animated gestures. Mismatched armor pieces rattled impressively with each energetic stride, and his ragged yet regal sash fluttered dramatically behind him as he nearly collided with their table. "Sparkfang has found you!" the kobold announced grandly, narrowly avoiding toppling a precarious stack of papers. "Sparkfang the Mighty never doubted you'd survive, but seeing you is a victory all the same!" Linzi laughed brightly, tension visibly draining from her shoulders. "Sparkfang! Your timing is impeccable as always." Sparkfang proudly puffed out his chest, his tiny frame radiating outsized confidence. "Sparkfang’s timing is legendary! What thrilling peril awaits Sparkfang’s heroics this time? Danger? Glory? Explosions?" Mirielle tilted her head with a playful smirk, voice dripping with amusement. "All three, actually. Linzi here has concocted quite the daring plan. Fireworks, music, and perhaps a dash of chaos for tonight’s performance. Think you’re brave enough to assist?" Sparkfang’s eyes lit up instantly, his scales practically shimmering with excitement. "Brave enough? Sparkfang is bravery itself! Has Sparkfang recounted his epic duel against the dreaded owlbear?" Linzi chuckled affectionately, placing a gentle hand on Sparkfang’s shoulder. "Oh, only about a dozen times. But tonight will require careful attention—it might get unpredictable. Are you truly prepared?" "PREPARED?" Sparkfang roared enthusiastically, leaping dramatically, causing Mirielle to swiftly secure several wobbling vials. "Sparkfang the Fearless laughs in the face of unpredictability! No task too daunting, no danger too dire!" Mirielle laughed, a genuine, flirtatious twinkle in her eyes as she steadied her supplies. "How could we possibly manage without your boundless courage, Sparkfang?" Linzi nodded with warm amusement, delighted by the turn of events. "Then it’s settled. With you on our side, Sparkfang, tonight will be unforgettable. Pitax won’t know what hit them." Sparkfang stood even taller, puffing out his chest with heroic pride, eyes darting eagerly over the intriguing alchemical components. Around them, the festival pulsed with life, blissfully unaware that soon, at its heart, a spectacular display of drama, chaos, and undeniable brilliance was about to unfold. # **Before the Event** Backstage, shielded from the vibrant festival chaos by a fluttering canvas tent, Linzi paced anxiously, a bundle of fabrics and sketches clutched tightly in her hands. Nearby, Mirielle stood with an amused, indulgent expression, casually adjusting the sleeves of a sleek black leather jacket that hugged her form perfectly. Beneath the jacket, a strip of shimmering gold cloth wrapped strategically around her chest, catching the flickering glow from the lanterns. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, daring and mischievous. Several spellcasters bustled around them, their fingers tracing delicate patterns in the air as soft whispers of prestidigitation magic fluttered across the fabric. Colors shifted, sparkles faded in and out, and minor adjustments swiftly altered the garments to Linzi’s exact specifications. Linzi paused, eyeing Mirielle critically. "You know," she began nervously, "I insisted on the gold cloth because if something goes wrong with the illusionary elements, we don't want any... unfortunate incidents on stage." Mirielle’s lips curled into a teasing smirk as she leaned forward slightly, allowing the leather jacket to fall open just enough to flash more gold. "Oh, darling Linzi, live a little dangerously. A little scandal might just make this performance even more unforgettable." Linzi flushed brightly, half amused, half scandalized. "Mirielle! The goal is to scandalize Pitax, not our own citizens." Laughing lightly, Mirielle rolled her eyes playfully. "You're adorable when you're flustered, you know that? Fine, fine, safety first," she teased, waving one hand dramatically. "Though I do hope your spellcasters are as skilled as you promise." Linzi bit her lip anxiously but couldn't hide a small smile. "They are, and besides, we've rehearsed this—several times. It’ll be perfect. It has to be." "And if not?" Mirielle purred, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Then at least Rivermarch will have a performance they'll never forget, hm?" Before Linzi could respond, Sparkfang burst energetically into the tent, nearly tripping over himself in excitement. "The great Sparkfang is ready!" he declared, striking a heroic pose. "All arrangements are secure." Linzi shook her head with affectionate exasperation, quickly regaining her composure. "Thank you, Sparkfang. Please, help make sure everyone else is ready." Sparkfang saluted sharply, his eyes flickering to Mirielle’s daring outfit, scales flushing a brighter shade of crimson. "Very impressive, Mirielle! Sparkfang is inspired by your bravery!" "Careful, little hero," Mirielle teased with a playful wink. "Keep your focus on the fireworks—or you might set something else ablaze." Sparkfang chuckled nervously, puffed up proudly, and hurried out, leaving Linzi shaking her head with gentle amusement. As the tent flap fluttered closed again, Linzi’s anxious expression returned. She turned back to Mirielle, lowering her voice and stepping closer. "Mirielle, be honest with me—just how safe are these alchemical concoctions? I'm used to illusions, not... actual explosions." Mirielle smiled reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on Linzi's shoulder. "My dear Linzi, have a little faith. I've handled far worse. These mixtures are perfectly stable—well, mostly," she teased gently. "But isn't a touch of unpredictability half the fun?" Linzi gave Mirielle a skeptical glance, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "That's exactly what worries me." Mirielle laughed softly, her eyes warm and confident. "Trust me. I'll make sure the only thing that truly ignites tonight is the audience’s amazement." Linzi drew a deep, steadying breath and managed a small, brave smile. "All right. If anyone can pull this off, it's you. Let’s give Rivermarch a night to remember." "Precisely," Mirielle affirmed, adjusting her jacket one final time with a wicked grin. "Now, let's give them a show worth talking about for decades." Linzi nodded, her anxiety still present but now mingled with excitement. She glanced toward the spellcasters, who were finishing their delicate enchantments, and whispered softly, almost to herself, "History is being written tonight." Mirielle tilted her head, catching Linzi’s quiet remark. She reached out and gently squeezed Linzi's hand, her voice firm yet soothing. "And you, my dear Linzi, will be the one writing it."