SERENDIPITY
CHAPTER FOUR
THE MERCHANTS FESTIVAL
The Imperial City was a sight to see. It was far bigger than Cheydinhal, and far more impressive. A great tower rose from within and disappeared into the clouds. All around the water were flowers - praire-fires, pansies, violets - and the stable fences were buried beneath honeysuckle. The bridge into the city was a sea of people; every inch was full. Celeste could see colouful banners and ribbons hanging from the gates.
"Is it always like this?" she asked Lucien, finding herself having to yell to be heard. Lucien was looking ahead, brow furrowed. "No." he answered, and fell silent. He only spoke again once they were inside of the city, and it was not to Celeste.
"Is there a festival in town?" he asked a guard. "Yes, sir." the man answered. "It's the Merchants Festival today, tenth of Sun's Height." Lucien sighed, turning to look at the crowd filling the streets. Celeste gave a sly grin. "You promised." she said, taking him by the hand and pulling him along.
Every street was lined with stalls and wagons. Merchants called out, advertising their items and low prices. Celeste saw vendors selling soap, jewelry, hats, and all numbers of things. In the Market District, tables had been set up all around the square, and tables laden with food called out to the crowd. Overhead, vivid banners were strung between buildings and trees, and confetti and ribbons were being thrown about.
Celeste dragged Lucien through the crowd; she often heard him sigh, indirectly voicing his reluctance and annoyance. She chose to ignore him. She stopped once at a tea stall run by an Altmer woman whose smile was just a bit too wide. As Celeste surveyed the many bright, small boxes, she was all too aware of the slanted golden eyes fixed on her coinpurse.
Celeste ended up with a bar of soap that smelled of strawberries ("Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen you bathe," she said to Lucien), a surprisingly cheap pair of blue woolen socks, and a book on the flora and fauna of Cyrodiil, with alchemy recipes included.
When they finally reached the square with shops, Lucien's interests peaked. "Winter is only a few months away." he said. "Traveling clothes should be more affordable now than ever, with the lowered prices." Celeste felt a smile tugging at her lips. "Aren't you glad I dragged you with me now?" she teased.
Around noon, they had finished all of their shopping. Celeste was absorbed in her book, and Lucien was eating an apple pie. The square was quite full by that time; all of the tables were full, and some had to stand and eat, though everyone seemed to be having too great of a time to care much.
At one point, Celeste thought she heard a distant scream. She glanced up from her book, but no one else seemed to have noticed, so she dismissed it. A few mintues later, she heard it again, and now it was closer. Others had heard it too; a silence fell over the square. Celeste saw a crowd of people moving toward them; she couldn't make out their faces, but she saw one figure in the very back that appeared to be a troll, and two in front holding flaming rings.
A buzz started up in the square, everyone whispering to their neighbours. The figures were moving closer every second, and Celeste heard a roar of voices vocalizing and singing bawdy tavern songs. Finally, the crowd filed into the square.
Three women held rings that were alight with flickering orange-yellow flames. A tattooed Breton was juggling knives, and two veiled Redguard twins held woven baskets at arms length in front of them. There was a whole band of flutes, lutes, drums, lyres, and instruments that Celeste had never seen. A few acrobats - a Khajiit, Dunmer, and two Bosmer - danced in front. Two men came in fencing each other with long metallic sticks that quivered in the air, their faces hidden by masks depicting extreme expressions of joy and grief. There was a cloaked couple on stilts that danced together, and, finally, a troll whose wrists and ankles were iron-clad.
Celeste was speechless. She glanced at Lucien, who was staring straight ahead at the circus, his brow furrowed in something like disapproval. A woman dressed all in black, covered head-to-toe in tattoos and piercings, came out in front to address the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" she yelled, spreading her arms wide. "Welcome to our circus!" There was a bit of scattered applause; no one was quite sure how to react. "We hope you enjoy the show!" With that, she gave a dramatic bow and tipped her tall hat. She stomped both feet in a sort of jig, and fire erupted from her heels. By then, everyone had begun to clap.
Celeste had never been to a circus before, so naturally every act impressed her greatly. It started off with the four acrobats dancing through the flaming rings, though never burning themselves. Then, the knife-juggling Breton performed, while the ringmaster shot spells at him. The two Redguard women sat on the ground before their baskets, playing flutes. Green, poisonous-looking snakes rose from within, and at one point they were completely lifted into the air. The two men in masks sparred with each other, shouting at each other as if they were in a play, with the couple of stilts acting as their audience.
The very last act was the most interesting, and, reflecting on it, the most disturbing. The troll was made to fight conjured antronachs, still shackled. The crowd roared with applause. When that act was finished, the ringmaster returned and spoke a few words, then, with deadly precision, tossed her hat into the crowd like a boomerang. When it had returned to her, it was full to the brim with gold. She did her jig again, and fire rose from beneath her feet. The band played together as they processed out, while the crowd added to the din with their shouts, tossing septims at the retreating backs of the performers.
"That was..." Celeste began as she and Lucien left the square. "Very interesting, I have to say." She laughed, and Lucien smiled. They ended up renting a room at a small inn in the Talos Plaza District, called the Foaming Flask. They were up quite late, finally retiring around midnight. As Celeste crawled into the narrow bed, which had a very soft mattress but itchy sheets, she heard a bout of racous laughter from the bar. Behind her, Lucien chuckled. She fell asleep listening to that - his laugh and soft snores.
It was a hot night in Summer's Garde. A gentle rain fell from the sky, and thunder rumbled softly in the distance. The twin moons were crescents tonight, partially obscured by thin grey clouds moving southward across the sky.
In the baron's manor, one window was still alight on the uppermost floor. The baron had a congregation of townsfolk and his own guards gathered in his office. He paced behind his desk, hands clasped behind his back.
"I want you to search all of Cyrodiil, do whatever you can to find her." he commanded. "Go to Cheydinhal, get the Count's permission and ask for as many men and hounds as he's willing to give." The baron stopped and leaned over his desk, palms flat and fingers splayed out across the glossy wood. "Stop at nothing until you find my wife." His eyes searched the faces of every man in the room. "Did you hear that?"
"Kill the men that had the gall to take her from me. Make them regret ever laying a hand on my darling Celeste. Stop at nothing."
He was the owner of a prestigious tea shop in the Market District, and he was filth. He lived in a grand house in the west side of the Talos Plaza District. He was also a thief. There was a professional term for that, though - businessman. If he had been caught by the guards, he would have been charged with money laundering and tax evasion. But thankfully, he was caught by someone much worse.
Lucien left in the early hours of the morning. He hadn't meant to be up so late, but Celeste was particularly talkative that night, and it was hard to refuse her. So now, at four in the morning, Lucien was strolling the empty streets of the Plaza District. His dagger hit his thigh with each step he took.
He was a relatively easy kill. Lucien climbed the trellis beneath his window and slid open the window, which was unlatched. He slashed his throat, and the blood stained the white sheets beneath him. Lucien took the gold and the jewels, and left.
When he returned, Celeste was sleeping with her back to him. He watched her for a moment, then sighed, his fingertips ghosting across his dagger. "I'm sorry."