There were three things Jean liked best in life: good food, good wine, and winning. If they’d been asked, the rest of the Valpari family would probably have said he didn’t have a competitive streak; compared to them, that was certainly true. The thrill of the chase was never quite enough, though, no matter what the game was. At the end of it, he had to be victorious.

And when it came to Yinn’s Carnival of Delight, Wonder and Potential Reward, he intended to be.

Rata Sum was in an uproar. The Carnival had arrived fully-formed, springing into existence as though it had emerged directly from the head of its creator. In truth, it must have taken months, perhaps years of planning, but Jean didn’t think Yinn would ever reveal that. Believing the Carnival had been built in a day made his work all the more impressive.

Not that Marissa seemed to agree. Jean’s older sister surveyed the festivities with disdain written across her perfect features. Leaning against a wall on the edge of the Creator’s Commons, she watched the tiny, free-wheeling golems, the sparkling lights, the extraordinary size of the crowd, and pursed her lips.

“You look troubled, dear sister.” Jean’s casualness didn’t quite work when he had to shout to make himself heard.

Marissa never seemed to have that problem; her voice could always be picked out, with crystalline clarity, across the most crowded room, and it wasn’t just because she was a mesmer. Jean had never quite learnt the skills of Valpari nobility – and arrogance, when it came to it – encapsulated by the rest of his family, but Marissa had it in spades. “I hadn’t expected so much competition.”

In all honesty, neither had Jean. The Carnival had been announced nearly a year ago, giving plenty of time for all these budding treasure hunters to gather their teams. Yinn had been remarkably guarded about exactly what the hunt would entail, though – and more importantly, the prize.

That hadn’t bothered the Valpari brood. Money was of little consequence for them, certainly when compared with the cachet of winning a tournament like this. There was a whiff of desperation about some of the potential competitors, though; some of the asura progeny in particular looked as though they were only after enough cash to fund their research projects.

Jean scanned the crowd again, searching for any familiar faces, and almost jumped out of his skin when the twins appeared in front of him. Oska and Auri Valpari had the enviable ability to melt out of a crowd as though stepping out of the air, despite the fact they turned heads wherever they went. On them, the grey hair that was so typical of the family had a silver sheen to it, and their huge eyes – one blue and one green, though on opposite sides, as though they were mirror images of one another – made them look almost like sylvari. So tiny, so delicate, and yet Jean knew you underestimated them at your peril. Auri’s elemental power was almost legendary, far greater than his own; Oska, on the other hand, liked his thief’s blades just a little too much.

“Where have you been?” Marissa chastised them, though it was clear she didn’t expect an answer. The twins liked their secrets, too.

“The fun–” Oska said.

“–is about to begin,” Auri finished. It always unnerved Jean a little how they finished one another’s sentences. Judging by the mischievous looks on their faces, they knew it perfectly well.

He looked out over the crowd again – and his heart almost stopped, though for an entirely different reason this time. He’d seen a face, a flash of red-blond hair that was painfully familiar–

Lights blazed, casting the crowd into silhouette even in the middle of the day. Doubt immediately crept into Jean’s mind – he hadn’t seen her, he couldn’t have – then was swept away by the spectacle unfolding before them.

The centre of the Creator’s Common was bathed in brilliance, a pure white pool of light covering a plaza that had mysteriously emptied. As Jean watched, a blocky shape began to emerge; he couldn’t be certain where it had appeared from, but it was definitely a golem, twice the height of a norn. It stopped in the very middle of the Common and raised its short arms to its head, which promptly unfolded downwards like the petals of an opening flower. From this unnerving creation, a much smaller figure drifted up out of the golem’s body; the asura was surely being lifted by some kind of mechanism, but the bright lights gave the eerie impression of him floating.

Finally, the golem ground to a halt, its head and hands now a wide platform. The asura strode from one side to the other, taking in the crowd – no, exhorting them to cheer, Jean realised. Swept up in the excitement, he almost opened his own mouth, but the rest of the family were stonily silent. It took a lot to impress a Valpari.

The lights went out, leaving them all blinking. It took Jean a moment to remember that it was still daylight, though the Commons was wreathed in so many coloured bulbs that it would have been just as bright if the sun had set. He finally got a good look at the asura – Yinn, surely – who now stood in the middle of the golem’s platform, resting both hands on an elaborate cane.

Marissa snorted in amusement. “Not quite so impressive now.”

Jean wasn’t sure he agreed. For all the asura’s small stature, he had a commanding air about him, and it was enough to make the whole Commons fall silent.

“Good people of Tyria.” Yinn’s voice was amplified, loud enough to be heard across half the city; Jean winced and stuck a finger in one ear. “It gladdens my heart to see so many of you here today. What an honour! What a privilege! To think that so many of you would gather here for my benefit…”

“A modest asura?” Marissa said. “What a novelty.”

Jean ignored her. Despite his words, he didn’t think Yinn was the slightest bit modest. Why should he be? This was a spectacle to be proud of.

“…will all have received your invitations,” Yinn was saying. “If you are without one, and have come here today merely for the pleasure of witnessing this momentous day, I must say thank you most sincerely – and good-bye!”

Jean had glanced at the invitation in Marissa’s hand – which, for all her insouciance, she was clutching rather tightly – and when he looked up, a score of golems were pushing through the crowd. There were outraged cries as the golems began bundling people away from the Commons, down ramps and towards Rata Sum’s many asura gates. By the time they were done, the crowd was significantly less full.

“There. That’s better.” Yinn’s voice fell a little, and Jean found himself straining to hear. Given the renewed silence on the Commons everyone else was doing the same. “You see, a little discernment was called for in this operation. Magnanimous I might be, but I cannot simply let anyone partake of these amusements. Your applications were scrutinised most thoroughly.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. Applications? Marissa might look disinterested, but if she’d actually had to apply for them to be here, she was more invested in this than he’d thought.

Yinn spread one arm wide, the other remaining fixed firmly on his cane; Jean sensed it wasn’t just for show. “And now here we are, fine folk of Tyria, all gathered together for one extraordinary occasion: a Treasure Hunt.”

The emphasis on those two words was as clear as if Yinn had spelt them out in fiery letters. He waved his spread arm, warming to his subject. “Not just any treasure hunt, either. This will be an occasion of great magnitude, of extraordinary trials – and of significant danger, too. But then, you all know that. That, quite possibly, is half the fun.”

Was it? Jean noticed that Marissa ignored his pointed look. What had she dragged them into? He could feel his skin flushed, and not just with the heat of a tropical night. If there was danger… did he even care?

Yinn’s arm had stilled, and abruptly he snapped his fingers. The card in Marissa’s hand lit up and she raised it to chest level, allowing them all to see the odd symbols now swirling across its creamy surface. Whatever standard invitation had been there before was gone.

There were mutters across the Commons. Jean could see a dozen such cards flickering to life, could see a dozen faces tilting them this way and that, trying to make sense of the symbols. Jean would leave that up to Marissa; he kept his eyes on the crowd.

And there, just once more, he caught a flash of red hair, swiftly hidden behind the bulk of an unusually large charr. Jean almost took off running, but Yinn was talking again. Besides, even if it was her, what could he say? He’d only end up making a fool of himself. Again.

“…the first clue,” Yinn said. “You may decipher it at your leisure – I place no time limit on this endeavour. However, be aware that there are twelve teams present here. Unless some should be lost, eaten or otherwise mislaid along the way, that means eleven other sets of eyes are competing alongside you. I would suggest a certain alacrity might be in order.”

Indeed, Marissa was already studying the card intently, and Jean could see heads bent over many of the others.

“There will be five sections to the hunt, of varying style and complexity, with interludes – rest periods, you might say – between them,” Yinn said. “They will test your ingenuity, your martial skill, your wit and your nerve… and that’s only the interludes. I will take great pleasure in seeing what you make of my little diversions.

“And now I bid you fair winds and good fortune,” the asura finished. For all his earlier fanfare, Yinn’s speech was rapidly coming to a close. “May the Eternal Alchemy be in your favour – and let it begin.”

There was a puff of smoke from the centre of the Commons. Jean noted idly that, when it vanished, both Yinn and the golem were gone, without having given any sign of walking away. He ignored that, though. Just games and trickery, when there was a more important matter at hand.

“You did notice,” he said, “that he didn’t say anything about a prize?”

The twins were staring at one another fixedly, as they did when they communicated without words. Marissa spared him a single glance, and said brusquely, “Do you even care?”

Jean found that he didn’t, and that, surprisingly, most of the other teams didn’t look like they did either. Indeed, when Marissa flipped over the card, there were twelve glowing circles, each one quartered. Tiny names were written under each one, including ‘The Family Valpari’.

“The other teams,” she said. “Should any of them forfeit or be otherwise defeated, I would imagine these lights will go out.”

And none of them had. Money or no money, prize or no prize, the teams that Yinn had picked out were all still here. This, Jean thought, was now about the challenge, not the reward.

Marissa bent to show the card to the twins, and Jean stared over their heads. The teams were dispersing with surreptitious glances at one another. If any of them had figured out the first clue, they weren’t about to give that away by rushing anywhere. He tried to pick out the large charr and her companions, but that particular team seemed to be already gone.

Marissa gave a low laugh. “Well, I won’t be the only one to have worked it out, but I know where we’re going. Are you ready?”

The twins nodded, with matched expressions of eagerness. Jean did the same. Yinn had been absolutely right: it had begun.