[Coastal] Port Awanui

Finally, the last screech fades away, the echoes dying. The alley is silent apart from the sound of the heartbeat in my ears. I catch my breath and walk up to the urn. The familiar look of red corruption on a blue gem. I pocket it without further look and turn to the rotting paper on the altar. Just as I bow down to read, a faint sound flutters through the air. It's not the clatter of bones or slither of scales but – music? I circle the altar. On the far side, there is an opening in a wall. The air smells a little less rotten and I can hear more clearly. Carefully, I make my way down the duct. After a few turns, I see dancing lights against the night, the shadows of people moving, there is laughter and the smell of fried fish wafting towards me. An illuminated sign welcomes me to the Night Market. I stand and stare as someone tugs at my sleeve.
„Hey girl. Ya buyin' or sellin'?“. My bag slides from my shoulder and is taken away. Hands open buckles, untie straps and pull my armour off. Before I can protest, a woman grabs my arm.
„I am Lymnaea, come with me.“
She spirals me away, dancing to the music of an accordeon player. We pass through a sea of faces, not all entirely human, between stalls and tables. Suddendly, the crowd cheers and moves into the direction of the river. We are carried away and end up at a small but ornate dock. A procession of lights make their way down the water. As they approach, they become dozens of small boats accompanying a large barge. The people whistle and clap, then fall silent and bow down. With a clumsy attempt, I try to follow. I hear the barge being tied and people's feet on the wood of the dock. I look up as the steps get closer. The man at the center of attention seems to wear rather plain clothes. A tunic and pants in shades of blue and green, tied with a rope belt of sailor's knots. The crown on his head is made of driftwood, shells, pearls and corals.
As he approaches, his clothes look more like woven silver and spun metals before I realize that the patterns are made from fish scales. The light of the lanterns and torches gleams on the fabric and seems to set specks of gold in his eyes on fire as he gives me a passing glance.
The King and his entourage make their way to a pavillon on an elevated part of the bank. The King sits down, claps and the music, dancing and busy bartering resumes.

I don't know for how long I've been staring, captivated by the King's eyes when Lymnaea takes my hand and breaks the spell.
„See, this is where already the Vaal and the Azmeri have been wrong. The true ruler of Sarn has always been the River King.“

We return to wandering the market. Lymnaea waves and smiles to people, makes introductions and chats with merchants as we walk past rows and rows of tables and stalls with strange and exotic wares.

Finally, I'm too exhausted to take another step. I sit down and close my eyes for just a minu -

I slowly wake up. I have no idea how I ended up on the old planks of the small pier. When I manage to get up, the fisherman turns his head. He smiles and nods. Just before he turns back to his task, the sun catches his eyes, setting golden specks on fire. The ghost of a memory stirs but before I can grasp it, it's gone. I take my belongings and head back towards the center of the encampment.

In a private corner between the stalls, I open the bag. It smells of fish and the river and when I reach in, my hand returns full of pearls, strange shells and beads. There is a dagger with a driftwood hilt, decorated with mother of pearl patterns. A shawl made from a silky, golden fabric I have never seen before. Amulets made from smooth pebbles and bracelets with pearls and corals. My armour, weapons and other equipment have been repaired, cleaned and polished. Apart from my boots which are bent out of shape and caked with mud as if I had left them in water. I feel dizzy and confused.

I take a few of the pearls and shells to show them to Hargan. He just shakes his head.
„Can't take 'em, those shouldn't be sold or bought. But special rates on everything else for you from now on, girl.“

It has been a few weeks but tonight, I've found the opening again – and I remembered...