Sivima had been generous when describing what the painter had set up as a shop. It reminded Kaldalis of a farmer’s market stall, being just a handful of wooden boards arranged into a makeshift counter. There were a couple of open metal bins, filled with rows of paintings. A few paintings were sitting out, leaning against the sides of bins or hanging on the sides of the stall.

The paintings were of a variety of types and styles. Some were landscapes that looked familiar enough to Kaldalis to be recognizable as the jungle around Cotanaku. There were a couple of still life paintings of fruits that were native to the Ulun Islands. One painting was of Cotanaku itself, and was the familiar view from the end of the pier, looking back towards the island. The paintings were all in a very rough style that made them look very abstract and stylized. They were mostly curving strokes and evocative lines that made the intent clear enough, allowing the viewers’ imaginations to fill in the rest.

Some of the paintings were of indistinct purple figures in various states of undress. Or, at least, they were abstract purple curves with creative shading that very strongly suggested indistinct figures in various states of undress.

Though perhaps that comparison was because the Vathon sitting behind the stall was the same shade of purple.

As far as Kaldalis was aware, they were the picture of a traditionally attractive Vathon. Adrogynous and slim, with high cheekbones, a pointed chin, and thick horns that curved back, with their short black hair slicked back to mimic that curvature. They were so adrogynous-looking that Kaldalis could not judge their gender on sight.

“A connoisseur of the arts? Out here in the wilds?” they asked as Kaldalis and Heluna approached the stall. “Or a pair of them? Even rarer! What can I do for you?”

“I think ‘connoisseur’ is a stretch,” Kaldalis said, “but I was hoping for some information for a start.”

“Like could you do one of these in another color?” Heluna asked, looking at one of the paintings Kaldalis believed was a suggestive self portrait. “Maybe a slightly bluer shade?”

Kaldalis tried not to blush as the painter looked back and forth between Kaldalis and Heluna with a knowing smirk.

The heat in his face told him he wasn’t quite successful.

To distract from that, he produced the Lataxinan puzzle box and put it on the counter of the stall in front of the painter.

“I need help with this,” Kaldalis said. “I was told you might be able to help.”

The painter looked down and briefly did a double-take, starting to look back up at Kaldalis before their eyes snapped to the carved images on the tiles.

“I see,” the painter said. They leaned down to examine it more closely without touching it.

“So you can read the symbols?” Kaldalis asked.

“I can,” they confirmed. “Where did you find this?”

“I got it off an Enhydra,” Kaldalis said. “According to my quest, it’s Lataxinan.”

“I’ll be damned,” they said, straightening up with a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” Kaldalis asked. “Aren’t they just colors?”

“I always thought it was a marketing gimmick,” the painter said. “The Silverbit company claims to have been making paints and pigments since before the Calamity. They’re the only ones who use this marking system on their jars. I thought they were just decorative, but…”

They reached under the counter and produced a pair of paint-splattered jars. They still contained paint that sloshed about inside, but each one was labeled with a symbol just like the ones on the puzzle tiles. These were also labeled in plain English - or at least a readable language that looked like English to Kaldalis’s eyes - as Blue-Green and Orange-Red. The painter held the jars up to the corresponding tiles.

“Excellent,” Kaldalis said, suddenly finding the plan coming together. “Do you have all of these colors?” he asked, turning the hexagonal tube over, showing the painter all the tiles, one side at a time.

“You want me to paint over all of these?” the painter asked.

“Is that a problem?” Kaldalis asked.

“A little bit,” the painter said with a grimace. Cautiously, they grasped the jars of paint they’d pulled out, pulling them closer across the counter protectively. “Silverbit paints aren’t cheap.”

Kaldalis blindly pulled a handful of his stream-earned coins and dropped them on the counter. Most of them were crescents, but there were a few full doubloons in there.

“I mean, it’s no problem at all,” the painter quickly corrected themselves, scooping the coins towards them. “Should I start now? I can start now.”

Kaldalis looked over at Heluna. She had been mid-movement digging through one of the bins of paintings - holding one that looked more than just suggestive, but looked like an abstract representation of a fully-visible rear end - but had stopped dead with her eyebrows raised as she watched the money change hands.

“Now is good,” Kaldalis said. “Sooner is better.”

The painter went to work right away, quickly producing a dozen jars of paint, starting to mark the tiles with the corresponding colors. It only took a few minutes of work to get each tile painted over with only a brief pause to try and decipher the symbol on one of the more damaged tiles. The work was messy, but Kaldalis didn’t need it to look good. He just needed it to be usable.

“I think that’s all of them?” the paint-splattered purple Vathon said when it was done. They turned it over again to confirm. “Silverbit paint should be dry enough to touch on most of these by now. Just don’t let it get wet and you should be good.”

“Perfect,” Kaldalis said. He looked to Heluna. “Did you want to get one of those, or were you just browsing?”

Heluna had gone through all the paintings in the bin by the time the work was done, and she quickly returned the one she was holding and gave Kaldalis a sheepish look. “Nah, I wouldn’t know what to do with one of these fuckin’ things. I just like lookin’.”

“I’ll see if I can get Garyung to start building an art museum for you,” Kaldalis said to her with a smirk. He turned back to the painter with a grateful smile and a nod. “I appreciate your help.”

“No problem,” the purple Vathon said with a grin, putting the paint jars away before taking a moment to count the fistful of coins Kaldalis had handed over. “Anything for a patron of the arts like yourself, sir.”

“Now we circle back around,” Kaldalis said to Heluna, taking the now-colorful hexagonal tube. He briefly checked to confirm he wasn’t getting paint all over his hands. True to the painter’s word, his hand came away clean.

“We just gonna fuckin’ fiddle with it for a few hours?” Heluna asked.

“No, of course not, that would be a waste of our time,” Kaldalis said, turning and leading her back towards the southeastern part of town. “We’re going to make Bastijn do it. Let him prove if he’s as smart as he thinks he is.”

Heluna laughed at that, quickly taking his hand. Kaldalis had only known the rough direction, and so he let her take the lead to get them there when they drew closer to the bar. It was inching towards mid-afternoon now, and the bar was a little more active.

And as they entered, the greeting call of “Hey, Heluna!” was a few more voices strong and a little less slurred.

Bastijn, Jorarre and Arnaud were still seated around the same table, but the two chairs they’d left empty - including the one Heluna had dragged over - were now occupied by another Vathon and a Bhogad. As they approached, Heluna grabbed another chair on the way, dragging it over so that she had a place to sit.

“Alright, we got that shit figured out,” she announced as she sat down.

“You did?” Bastijn asked.

“Yeah, we figured out that you could figure it out,” she said with a toothy grin. “You asshole.”

Kaldalis thought that was as good a time as any to present the painted puzzle. The way Bastijn’s face fell at the sight of the thing made the whole table erupt in laughter. Kaldalis could already read the energy here. Every friend group had a punching bag, and this one’s was Bastijn. He had picked up on the man being a bit of a know-it-all, and forcing him to put his money where his mouth was did a good job to fit Kaldalis into the group.

“You gonna grab a fuckin’ chair, Kal?” Heluna asked.

“Nah, don’t worry, man,” Jorarre said, her voice slurred from drink. “We’re all friends here. Just sit your ass right on her lap!”

“I’d consider it,” Kaldalis said, “if I wasn’t wearing all this armor.”

Kaldalis realized, belatedly, that his attempt to earnestly dismiss the comment had instead suggested something even more inappropriate.

Even Heluna turned red as the group dissolved into a new gale of laughter.

Kaldalis fetched a chair as Bastijn grumpily went to work on the puzzle, sliding the tiles around and trying to group them by color.

As he worked, the group went back to their conversation. Despite Kaldalis’s presence, they were happy to complain about the latest snags in building the Persimmon II and gossip about the goings-on in the wake of Garyung’s return to town. Someone had constructed an elaborate tale about Onirioago’s trial, but it didn’t involve Kaldalis at all, and portrayed her in a very negative light, so he wasn’t afraid to just let the rumor circulate. Especially since he couldn’t very well tell them the truth about what happened.

Honestly he was happy to just be a quiet observer, sitting next to Heluna and having a drink.

Despite his despair at being put to the task, Bastijn seemed strangely competent when it came to the puzzle. It only took about an hour of sliding the tiles around before the device made a clicking sound so loud it silenced the discussion around the table.