Battier, the Fool's Troupe's best fisherman, ran into trouble one day on what was supposed to be an ordinary fishing trip. With only his trusted harpoon, he fought against an aquatic Tacet Discord so ferocious that it soon dragged him beneath the waves. Luckily, Roccia sensed something was off when Battier didn't return as expected and quickly rallied troupe members to form a small rescue team. They searched the nearby waters and finally pulled a drenched, beleaguered Battier ashore. However, his well-worn harpoon hadn't fared as well—it was wedged tight in the Tacet Discord's side, and both were swallowed by a whirlpool in the sea.
Without his harpoon, Battier felt like he'd lost part of his spirit. He'd spend hours baiting traps and coming up empty, as if the fish sensed his missing piece, too. Some days, he'd just lie in the black sand of the Strand, staring at the dim sky. Even the clouds seemed to taunt him, shaping themselves into fish that drifted further and further away.
"Aaaaah—!" he shouted at the sky in helpless frustration.
As if to ease his mind, the clouds began to part, layer by layer, and beams of light spilled down, turning the sky into a shimmering sea. Right in the center, his lost harpoon appeared, descending like a divine gift from the heavens, gleaming in golden sunlight. It landed straight into his hand as if it had never left. In the meantime, fish swarmed to him once more, dancing through the air and across the water.
Heartened by this wonder, Battier hauled in a full net to bring back to the troupe. Roccia and Pero used the catch to whip up a feast—roasted squid, creamy clam chowder, peppered fish steaks, and so on. The air was filled with the rich aroma of seafood as everyone gathered by the fire, laughing and eating together. Someone even wielded a fish skewer as a sword, putting on a little show that had people in stitches. Looking at the jolly crowd, Battier felt a warm feeling inside—it's the simple joy of being needed and the thrill of fishing for those who truly appreciated him.
While the others were enjoying the feast, Roccia exchanged a quick smile with Pero before hiding the Cloudcaster they'd used earlier into a haystack. As a prop master, she knew how much meaning certain objects held for people. No matter how difficult, she'd always find a way to retrieve what was lost—whether from the sea or the sky. After giving them a good polish, she'd plan a heartwarming, dramatic reunion, just as she'd done with Battier's golden harpoon.
From that day on, the troupe had a new show: Battier and the Golden Harpoon. The crew enjoyed re-enacting this enchanting story with grilled fish in hand and hearts full of laughter.
To become the troupe's first mate, one must prove they can face down any storm the sea can throw at them. That's why every first mate must pass a trial—a perilous voyage led by the troupe's best helmsperson. For Roccia, her helmsperson was none other than Tina.
Even with young Roccia onboard, Tina held firm, steering the ship straight into the heart of a brewing storm with steady hands, unflinching as she faced the dark, roiling waves.
Roccia didn't seem fazed at first. She calmly pulled out one of Pero's scripts, reading as if she were back under the troupe's tent instead of on a ship pitching wildly in the storm. She dabbed seawater from her face, reading plays prepared by Pero as though it were all a practiced routine. Years of crafting props and performing on stage had made her adaptable, and her time with Pero had taught her to understand and respond to the subtle frequencies of the Echo ship.
But as they reached the depths of the storm, faint, glowing eyes began to surface in the dark waters, and ominous whispers carried on the wind. Roccia's steady demeanor seemed to falter—her hand wavered as she tucked the script away and gripped the edge of the cabin. Eventually, even the hardened Tina noticed Roccia's trembling. At a loss on how to comfort her, Tina instead raised her voice in song, her voice strong and steady, resonating with the Echo ship. All she could do in this situation was to hold the ship steady through the rough waters, which required absolute focus.
Then, a softer voice joined her. Tina looked back to see Roccia huddled near the cabin, singing along with a light quaver to her voice. Though fear glinted in her eyes, Roccia hadn't forgotten her duty. She took out her telescope, scanning the dark horizon for their course. Tina's voice rose stronger, blending with Roccia's softer notes, overpowering the ominous whispers around them. Catching the right current, the ship surged forward, breaking through the storm into the first light of dawn.
Back on shore, Roccia's face was as calm and collected as ever. From that day on, First Mate Roccia guided every voyage with a steady hand, always bringing people safely home.
"Roccia?" Tina, known for her blunt honesty, was asked later. She grinned, a glint of pride in her eyes. "She's tough and dependable—a good girl who deserves love and care. As for her pitch… well, let's just say it may not be perfect, but it's got heart."
Besides the twinkling star, little Luca's most cherished item is an old ticket.
Luca remembers the day Roccia handed it to her after she'd been rescued from the Strand. Roccia was calm and steady, even though she couldn't have been much older than Luca herself. She could handle anything—helping lost pilgrims who drifted ashore, cooking meals for the troupe, recording funny moments, collecting seashells and Luceanites, even refilling the confetti pistol. And of course, cheering up homesick little newcomers like Luca was all part of her role.
One day, Luca looked up at Roccia with a sniffle, holding the ticket tightly in her little hand. "I miss my Mama, Roccia… I want to go home and see her. But I only have a one-way ticket, and I lost it…"