Ella watches Helletta with a look of intrigue as they sit on the edge of the bustling market street, her eyes darting over every detail, as if she’s trying to commit Helletta’s entire form to memory. After a moment, she clears her throat and says, “I heard the rumors about your catch this morning while I was passing by the welder’s shop. At first, I thought it was just another wild tale—you know how people talk around here. But now, looking at you…” she trails off, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully, “I can see the picture.”

  Helletta crosses her arms, her brow furrowing. “And what picture is that, exactly? We’ve only just met,” she replies, her voice edged with skepticism. “You don’t know anything about me, and that story could just be a rumor. A baseless, pointless rumor.”

  Ella raises her hands and squares her fingers, framing Helletta’s face through the gap as if capturing her in a camera lens. She peers through her fingers with exaggerated seriousness, a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, no, no. I see something very real, Helletta. I know strength when I see it.”

  Helletta raises an eyebrow, genuinely baffled. “And how, exactly, do you know that?” She leans in, crossing her arms and watching Ella with guarded curiosity.

  Ella’s grin widens, and she straightens, puffing her chest out proudly. “I’m a banker,” she declares with a flourish, as if that explains everything. “And bankers, well… we have an instinct for good investments. We’re trained to spot value when it walks right up to us. And you?” Her eyes glint, a mix of humor and something more serious. “You look like money.”

  Helletta blinks, momentarily taken aback. “Money?”

  Ella’s playful grin faded, and she leaned forward, her gaze turning serious. “Alright, let’s cut to the chase,” she said, a sharpness in her tone that hadn’t been there before. “You want to participate in the festival, don’t you? That’s what this is all about. That’s why you went after that sea beast, isn’t it?”

  Helletta sighed, feeling the frustration of the day settle back over her. “You’re right,” she admitted, “I do want to participate. But I wanted to do it the way my master told me to.” She paused, her voice taking on a resigned edge. “He said if I could catch six hundred fish, hand them over to the fishing guild, and get a receipt to prove it, he’d give me his approval. That was supposed to be my ticket into the festival.”

  She shook her head, her mind flashing back to the endless interruptions that had sabotaged her hunt. “The Servhal wasn’t part of the plan. I was just trying to pull in my catch, but every time I netted something, that beast would swoop in and eat it,” she said, her irritation clear. “It wouldn’t leave me alone, and eventually… it just pissed me off.”

  Ella cocked her head to the side, her brows knitting together in confusion. “But why do you need your master’s approval to enter the festival?”

  Helletta’s mind drifted back to the stranger’s words, echoing in her memory: You don’t need your master’s permission to join the festival. She felt a wave of heat creeping up her neck, her cheeks warming with embarrassment and frustration as the realization sank in.

  Ella caught the change in her expression and burst into laughter, loud and unrestrained, bending over as her shoulders shook. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, and she clutched her sides, struggling to catch her breath. “Oh, you poor thing,” she managed between laughs, “you really thought… you needed permission?”

  Helletta’s blush deepened, and she crossed her arms, her face set in a scowl. “It’s not funny,” she muttered, but the blush and the twinge of annoyance gave her away.

  Finally catching her breath, Ella wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened up, still chuckling. “I’m sorry, Helletta,” she said, a mischievous grin lingering on her face. “But on the contrary—anyone can enter the festival! There’s only one rule: you have to reach the specification. And that means becoming either a delegate or being delegated to.”

  Helletta’s brows knitted in confusion, and Ella continued, “To earn a place, you need to show everyone your strength. People need to see what you’re capable of. That’s the only permission you need.”

  Helletta fell silent for a moment, the stranger's words ringing fresh in her mind once more. “Then why,” she asked, her tone thoughtful and uncertain, “if strength can attract people, are they avoiding me for capturing that sea beast?”

  Ella tilted her head, a knowing smile flickering at the corners of her mouth. “Look, Helletta,” she said, her voice steady and matter-of-fact. “This city might pride itself on being edgy, full of tough customs and tougher people, but deep down, they’re scared of things they don’t understand. A young girl capturing a corrupted sea beast—that is something they can’t wrap their heads around.”

  Helletta’s face clouded with frustration as Ella continued, “Oh, they love to talk big about their fishing culture, about how wild and unrestrained they are. But the moment someone shows up with something truly deadly, they get squeamish. See, the fishers here? They stick to regular fish. The corrupted sea beasts? Those are left to the Hunters and the noble families who can afford to hunt or tame them.”

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  Ella’s gaze sharpened, and she looked directly at Helletta. “The truth is, the people here are small-minded. They like to think they’re bold and rough, but the second something bigger, scarier, or more impressive than them comes along, they shrink away. And that’s you, Helletta. You are that big thing they can’t handle.”

  She extended her hand, her eyes gleaming with excitement and determination. “Stick with me, and I’ll get you into the festival. We’ll show them all that your strength isn’t something to fear—it’s something they’ll have to reckon with.”

  Helletta looked down, her fingers toying absently with the edge of her sleeve. “How exactly do you plan to get me into the festival if even hunting a sea beast isn’t impressive enough for them?”

  Ella’s grin widened, her confidence radiating as she leaned in closer. “There are plenty of ways, trust me,” she said, her tone reassuring. “The first thing we need is money. With that, reputation comes easier. Hunting sea beasts may not have made the splash you wanted here, but in other places—especially the Island cities—people know the value of that kind of power.”

  Helletta glanced up, intrigued but skeptical. “So… money and reputation. And how do we get those?”

  Ella’s eyes sparkled as she explained, “Simple. We start taking on local missions, right here in the city. Maybe these fishers don’t appreciate what you’re capable of, but there’s no shortage of people here who need help. And if we play it right, we can make a real name for you, bit by bit. This city has its undercurrents, its own problems, and every mission we take will build your reputation and bring us the coin we need.”

  Helletta’s interest sparked, and she felt a glimmer of excitement despite herself. “So we’ll just… take on missions? Build from the ground up?”

  “Exactly,” Ella replied. “There’s no end to opportunities here. We’ll exploit whatever comes our way, and by the time the festival rolls around, they’ll have no choice but to acknowledge your strength.”

  The proposal made a surprising amount of sense, and Helletta felt the weight of it settle into something that felt almost like hope. She looked down at Ella’s hand, still extended toward her, and after a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and clasped it. Ella’s face broke into a grin of relief and triumph; she’d held her hand out so long that her arm was beginning to go sore.

  “Finally!” Ella laughed, giving Helletta’s hand a hearty shake. “I promise, you won’t regret this. Once we’ve built enough of a name, we’ll get people wanting to be part of what we’re doing. They’ll be lining up to be our delegates.” Ella’s eyes gleamed, her excitement boundless. “That’s the part I’m most excited for.”

  But even as Ella’s enthusiasm washed over her, Helletta felt a tug of doubt, and she withdrew her hand slowly. Her master’s words echoed in her mind, woven with the haunting warning of the stranger. Her master had told her, time and again, of the Great Empire and its glittering promise—a world of gleaming wealth, of boundless opportunity, a world that seemed to shine with the allure of possibility. But he’d spoken of a darker price, a silent cost of submission and bondage, an endless chain hidden behind the Empire’s polished facade.

  The words felt like stones in her chest, weighing on her even as she stood on the brink of this new beginning.

  Her master’s words echoed deeply within her, growing louder with each thought: Never, ever become a part of that system, or you’ll lose yourself. She had heard him say it countless times, the warnings woven into every story he told her of the Empire’s boundless power and influence. And yet, mingling with those words were the stranger’s—urging her forward, to fight, to grow stronger, to claim her place by seeking out delegates or by binding herself to another’s cause. His words stirred her still, an insistent push toward something larger, something beyond the quiet limits her master had set.

  Helletta’s gaze drifted back to Ella, who watched her eagerly, full of anticipation. But after a tense silence, Helletta shook her head, her expression resolute. “I won’t enter the festival if that’s what it takes,” she said, her voice steady.

  Ella’s jaw dropped, her surprise giving way to disbelief. “You’re serious?” She blinked, as if expecting Helletta to change her mind. “But… if you’re strong, you wouldn’t waste this chance!”

  Helletta only looked at her, then turned, setting her shoulders as she began to walk down the path toward the docks, her mind a tangle of frustration and confusion. She could feel the conflicting voices pulling at her, each one demanding her loyalty. The stranger’s promise of power and recognition; her master’s unshakable warnings, the subtle threat of the Empire’s chains. The weight of her own ambition warred with a nagging fear of losing something precious, something unnamed but vital.

  She kept walking, her fists clenched, pushing forward with only the thought of her Helsuk to guide her steps.

  Helletta’s thoughts churned as she walked, her footsteps steady but her mind anything but settled. She knew her master had chosen this path for her, shaping her direction with his own choices, his own fears and warnings. And that choice, his choice, had kept her from the things she craved most: food enough to fill her belly, the money to see the world beyond the southern docks, and the freedom to claim a life unbound by another’s rules.

  But, strangely, as she replayed her decision in her mind, she felt no regret. It felt right—like she had found some hidden truth about herself in that refusal, even if it made no sense. This lack of regret disturbed her, made her question everything she thought she knew. How could she feel so certain when she understood so little about the world she longed to dive into?

  Behind her, Ella’s footsteps echoed her own. Ever the pragmatist, Ella wasn’t the type to let an investment walk away without a fight. A sly grin tugged at the corner of her mouth as she trailed Helletta, eyes gleaming with determination. She knew potential when she saw it, and Helletta had it in spades. The girl might not see it herself, not yet, but Ella was more than willing to stick around until she did.