Affinity

Chapter 3

The next morning, stepping into the stone walls, I am greeted by the sight of the market in full swing. A smile creeps across my face, this is easily one of the reasons why Saturday is my favorite day of the week. Stalls line the cobblestone streets, vendors peddling their goods with enthusiastic shouts, drawing people from neighboring towns and even distant regions.

Children weave through the crowd, their playful squeals blending with that of a street musician playing his flute near the fountain. The scent of fresh bread and roasted pecans waft through the air, making my stomach rumble in anticipation. The market is a sensory feast, with vibrant displays of fruits and vegetables, shimmering fabrics, and an array of handmade crafts. It's a place where everyone knows each other, where stories are exchanged as readily as goods, and where the heart of the community beats strongest.

"Eva!", a familiar voice shouts from a nearby stall. I quickly head towards it, not bothering to hide my smile. "Morning, Garet," I say as he hands me some bread. Garet, the other reason why I love Saturdays. Being a son of one of the vendors, he attends the market every week. He is tall and lean, with tousled straw colored hair that always seems to catch the sunlight, making it look like a golden halo around his head. His sharp green eyes are lively, always filled with a hint of mischief.

"You're late," he teases, biting into his own warm, crusty loaf of bread. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about your favorite customer."

I laugh, taking a bite of the bread. "Never. Just had a bit of a late start this morning." A slight moan escaping my lips as I savor the warm taste.

He leans against the stall, watching me with a curious expression. "Another story done?"

I nod, pulling out a stack of freshly printed pages from my satchel. "Yep, and it's a good one. Mr. Whitfield already seems excited about it."

Garet's eyes light up. "Can't wait to read it. I would still love to know how you come up with these. One day you'll trust me enough with your secret, " he adds with a wink.

I smile at his praise, feeling a warmth in my chest. Garet has been one of my earliest and most supportive readers, always eager for the next installment.

"I still can't believe how this all started," Garet muses, pulling me back to the present. "You, a village storyteller, soon to be the talk of the town."

"Well, let's not be dramatic," I reply, a touch of sarcasm in my voice. "But it's nice to have people enjoy what I write. Maybe next I'll have to start signing autographs and hire an entourage.

Garet chuckles, "So, are you going to the festival tomorrow?" he asks, his tone casual but his eyes gleaming with excitement. The Harvest Moon Festival is an annual celebration held in the heart of the village, marking the end of the harvest season and honoring Thalor, the goddess of the harvest. It's a time when the entire community comes together to give thanks for the bountiful crops as well as the changing of the seasons. The festival is a riot of colors, sounds, and scents, transforming the village into a vibrant hub of activity and joy.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. "I might. Depends if Kendry needs me to help with his remedies."

Garet chuckles, his green eyes becoming more striking against the early afternoon sunlight. "Doesn't he always need help with those? How many times has he accidentally turned water into... what was it last time? Slime?"

I laugh, remembering Kendry's latest experiment gone wrong, the memory of his exasperated face as he tried to fix the mess. "That was an interesting day. But I think he's finally perfected the headache remedy, so he should be fine without me for a few hours."

"Good, because you need to come," Garet insists. "I even convinced my father to extend our stay an extra day just so we can go together. The festival won't be the same without you."