#enflarable

"Oh, Miss Columbina, do you remember this game?"

A different festival and a slightly different atmosphere, but still there are simularities with the last. One such instance was a simple festival game- last time manned by the little-dragon's story-book friends themselves, this one had naught but wooden pegs to its name.

Still, that doesn't dampen the dragon's excitement, eyes alight.

"Should we give it a try? We had pretty good luck last time, didn't we?"

If he was ignorant or innocent of their last encounter's help, or if he was simply playing the fool was anyone's guess, but either way the little-dragon trots up to the merchant's stand, already eager to begin.

"Do you want to go first?" Politeness came first, and he steps aside to give her room.

“Mhm. Quite well. A day like that would be rather hard for me to forget in even the smallest detail,” Both due to it being the best day of her life, while also marking beginning of some of the worst, but there’s no need to bring down the mood of the festival by dwelling on that. “But with you here, too, it’s like the even the memories of bits I did forget are flooding back. Almost as if we’re still there.”

It’s a far less fun sight this time around, with their littler paper friends replaced by silent wooden pegs without even the tiniest smile drawn onto their faces… but the very real, non-wood-adjacent and comparatively large dragon at her side more than makes up for whatever disappointment she may have felt upon approach.

Columbina nods at the offer, smiling as she steps past to offer her open palms to the game’s owner. “Sure. I’ll do my best.” Rings drop into her awaiting hands — one, two, three — with satisfying little clacks. Wooden, then, most likely. Yet another difference to the ones from Moon Prayer Night, but it was as he said. Their luck was good last time, why wouldn’t it be now?

Extracting one ring from the pile, the moon goddess then turns her attention to the pegs at last. Aiming at them was how she came to miss, before, so just a little ahead should be good, right? Winding an arm back, she takes a deep breath, and…

…The ring soars high over top the pegs, landing far beyond even the furthest one, and decidedly nowhere near close.

“…Ah.” Right, these ones don’t move. “Sorry, let me try again…” A second ring follows soon after the first: much closer this time, but still not quite near anything that could be considered a victory. The third closer still, yet bounces just off the edge of a peg before it can land. And the fourth…

“Hm. It seems I’m out of rings.” Columbina frowns down at her own now-empty hands (both of rings to throw and of prizes to have won), taking a step back from the designated ‘throwing spot’ with a soft sigh of defeat.

A little ways away from the city, the dragon-child holds an unfinished lantern. Unfinished, of course, not because he doesn't know how to, but because he doesn't know what to put inside. He isn't alone, but he doesn't realize it at first.

The lanterns released in the city rise up above the water, twinkling like little stars. The dragon-child sighs, and smiles, because he doesn't need to steal them anymore.

"Ack!" Upon noticing the other presence, Durin jumps to his feet, quickly brushing himself off. "I didn't notice you there…"

But there was something strange about this new arrival, and Durin blinks at him curiously. "Oh, are you releasing a lantern, too?"

From his attire, he seems like a native. "Um... could I ask- what are we supposed to put inside the lanterns? I'm trying to think of something that could fit, but..."

Like mother, like son- his writing was best suited as a story, and not a statement.

There was something… odd about the figure that now stood on the mountain where Xiao kept his usual vigil. Mondstadtian attire, draconic features, Abyssal energy… and yet there was an obvious attempt to assume the guise of a human, and he could detect no malice from them. Even so, he watched the figure from afar to deduce their intentions.

And after a long stretch of careful observation, Xiao concluded that said intentions were endless hemming and hawing about what to write in a lantern.

He teleported nearby and approached the figure, noting the startled reaction upon the other noticing his presence—then was subjected to multiple questions. Was he releasing a lantern? Xiao had already released one. What are you supposed to put inside it? 

The glittering of gold will always prove a temptation to some, even if the coins were not in the form of mora. They had their own value, after all, in trading with the self-proclaimed god of fortune, or, more accurately, whatever their keeper so decides.

"Do you think they'd mind if I keep one coin as a souvenir?" Durin asks idly to the Lightkeeper as they pass by one of many trees scattered through the city. As he does, child rifles through the branches, gathering a few more to share with her friends- with enough time and effort, they'll be able to exchange with Miss Pingxi by the docks.

Even in areas further from the festivities can you still find a potted treasure tree, and it is in their boughs that the coins have not yet all been gathered. A loop around the city reveals many such instances, their leaves still alternating with gold.

The next time they pass by one such plant, Durin's tail loops around one of the branches and gives it a shake. A few coins fall to the ground, and he scoops them up, holding out a few for the other to take.

"They're supposed to bring luck, I think. So here! As thanks for helping me out, back then."

Lantern Rite 2026 | accepting

"The people of this nation do strike me as the meticulous sort, but in my experience, such qualities often come second to merely enjoying the festival."

In other words, Flins doesn't believe that anyone would notice a missing coin from the auspicious trees, and likely one could take away a whole fistful of coins without repercussion. His eye had been drawn to them in much the same way that his draconic companion's had been - it'd crossed his mind that they would make simple but thoughtful souvenirs for Illuga and Nikita, both of whom could use a little extra fortune to carry with them into the dark - but for the meantime, Flins and Durin had a missing dog to find.

Besides, once dusk had fallen, it would be easier for a stray flame to slip by unnoticed and pilfer a few coins.

He doesn't count on Durin staying with him past the completion of the task for which he'd employed him though, not that he minds the company, and in fact, though he hardly shows it, he's delighted when the young man stops to shake loose a few coins from one of the trees after all.

"As thoughtful as always, Mr. Durin," he says appreciatively when Durin parts with a few of the golden treasures from his hoard. They aren't all that valuable, and it's likely they were made for this very festival, so what passes between hands is not so much payment as a blank slate onto which a memory will be imprinted. After all, Flins could have - and would have come back at some point to gather a few on his own, but as he holds one coin up to the lamplight, he thinks about the old man whose eyes had been nearly brimming with tears when he'd caught sight of the dog he thought would be lost forever. It etches features back into the time-blurred faces of all those once guided home to safety by the fabled Lantern Fae.

With a soft smile, he drops the coin back into his palm and pockets the small handful.

"With a few new silks, you could pass for a God of Fortune yourself. I suspect you have made that impression on a number of people today even without the gold and red finery."

The sun is hardly more than an ocher hue at the horizon, and overhead hundreds of lanterns blink and glimmer across the night sky. Flins turns from them to the lamp-lined street ahead, where laughter mingles with the hiss of frying food.