Chapter 9
The Festival
“You’re crazy if you think we’re leaving tonight!”
Terrill was halfway off the campsite when Krysta’s yell turned him back. Walter, too, hadn’t moved, content to sit where he’d been the entire time. Terrill frowned, folding his arms at his companion’s assertion, not liking it one bit. He tapped his foot, the only sound in the silence brought on by Krysta, unless one counted the deadly falls or the crackling fire. “We don’t have time to waste. There’s no telling how many days it’s been, and if Valorda is on the brink of war-”
“Then one more night won’t make a difference.” Krysta was adamant about this. She was on her feet now, grabbing Terrill’s arm and trying to pull him back to the ground. He refused to budge. “Terrill, setting off now or in a few hours won’t change whatever’s going on between the two countries, but rest will make a vast amount of difference for you. Or have you forgotten your wounds?”
“You healed them, Krysta. And we don’t know if the night will make a difference.”
“I’d listen to the young lady,” Walter shared. He was playing with the coins, yawning while he did so, and appearing nonchalant about the whole affair. “Besides, I’m in no state to take off tonight, and as it’s me you’re paying, I make the rules.”
“I thought it was the customer that makes the rules,” Terrill argued back. Walter offered a toothy grin at that assertion.
“You’re the one that needs my help. The travel could turn into days longer than you hope for without my guidance. After all, you don’t seem like someone familiar with Gladius’s terrain.” To prove his point, Walter crossed his legs, his hands behind his head, looking ready to sleep. “By all means, if you want to leave, leave. I’ll refund you. But I prefer a good night’s rest. Though, please, continue your lover’s quarrel.”
“L-lover’s?!” Krysta said with a squeak. “N-no, we’re-” Whatever denial she planned to give, she stopped herself. Her ears turned red and her hands never let go of Terrill’s arm. When she managed to compose herself, Terrill felt her squeeze just a bit tighter. “Terrill, you can’t stop a war if you just keep marching into danger.”
It was the quietness of her voice that gave Terrill pause, and he searched her face for what she was feeling. It gave no indication but for the same pain she had expressed in the graveyard. “I have to try, don’t I?”
“And what do you think we’ll manage without Floyd?” she asked. “He’s our ambassador. Do you really think you’ll get anywhere without his credentials? One man can’t stop a war between nations.”
“I…” Terrill swallowed. The vulnerable side that Krysta was showing pained him, made him reconsider his actions, and he was willing to relent, if for a moment. “I know that I can’t, but I don’t want to give up without even trying. If there’s anything I can do to stop the Fiends from plunging the world into another war, I have to do it.”
“And what if you break before then?!” The sudden increase in her volume shocked Terrill to silence. She kept clinging to him, her head hung and her disheveled hair in wisps around her face. He watched her until she lifted it, pleading tears in her eyes. “You almost didn’t make it out of that battle with Blaise alive. You keep going and going until you break and I don’t…I don’t want that! I don’t want to see someone throw themselves away when it’s not their responsibility ever again!”
Terrill couldn’t formulate a response to that. He only stood there, watching Krysta until her hands slid away from him. She turned aside, wiping at her face with a sniffle. He wasn’t sure how to react, or what the right course was. The yearn to get to Valorda and do what he could was at war with the more personal stake of Krysta’s worry.
In the end, it was that side that won out. He exhaled.
“All right, Krysta, you win. We’ll leave in the morning.”
“Huh?” Before Krysta knew it, Terrill had embraced her, pulling her against his chest. He didn’t know why, exactly, only that it felt right. It must have to her, as well, because she fell into it, and the two stayed there a moment longer than they probably should. That was when they became aware that Walter was watching them, and the two separated. “Um, that was…mildly embarrassing. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You care about him, and he about you,” Walter commented, proving that he had been watching their intimate moment with uncomfortable interest. Terrill scratched at his cheek, nervously chuckling over the observation. “Hold on to that. You never know when something can come along and rip it away from you.”
Something about the way he said it told Terrill that Walter knew this from experience. He didn’t press the matter, however, preferring to smooth the bed roll out and take a seat upon it. Krysta joined him, though she put some distance between them so as to not give Walter any other ideas. Sleep didn’t visit any of them.
They all remained staring at the fire, listening to the rapids below for what seemed to be hours. Terrill wondered if they were already too late and armies were marching to war, but he hid that from Krysta until, finally, she fell into a sleep with her head drooping on Terrill’s lap with a light snore. When she had, Walter leaned forward, planting his spear in the dirt and leaning on it to observe Terrill closer.
“So, Terrill, tell me, what’s your interest in stopping a war? Beyond the obvious, of course,” the older man asked. The twinkle in his eyes revealed that he wasn’t going to be letting this matter go any time soon. Careful not to move his lower body in fear of waking Krysta, Terrill frowned at the man. “You must have a reason. We all have simple reasons for why we want to do things. Unless you’re one of those types that does things without thinking.”
“What’s your reason?”
“Heh, my reason for my hunt, you mean? Even that’s simple, but I’m not trying to stop a war.” Terrill still waited until Walter had drawn back, his face now cloaked in shadow. “Revenge. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just a pure and unyielding want for vengeance.”
“Because of the war?”
“Before the war. But that’s nothing you need to know. A young man like you, though, dashing headlong into danger to stop a war. That’s what interests me.”
Terrill considered not speaking further, but Walter’s candid conversation made him open up, and before he knew it, Terrill was spilling his thoughts out. “I don’t want to see anyone else die. I lost my parents to the war fifteen years ago, when the people of the world were actually united. So, knowing that these countries are willing to run right into another one, forgetting those deaths of the past… I can’t let it happen.”
“Ah, the altruistic heroic type. Not many of you left.”
Terrill scowled at that. Hero. His fist clenched the dirt just thinking it. “I just want to do what I can.”
“I can understand it. I might even agree with it, but my own passions come first.” Another yawn escaped Walter’s lips before he inclined his head in the direction of Krysta. “And her? Pretty girl like her doesn’t just leave home for nothing on a foolhardy quest to stop a war of sorts. Or are you…?”
“No,” Terrill said to cut him off. “I don’t know why Krysta’s along. Not really. But I don’t think she wants a war either, and she’s a damn good healer.”
“Don’t I know it! Saw her sew those burns of yours up to nary a scar!”
“Yeah, she’s the best.” Walter’s knowing wink caused Terrill to roll his eyes, but neither said a thing. Terrill tipped his head back. “I’ll try to get some sleep. We’ll leave at dawn.”
Walter didn’t argue, and his snoring could be heard minutes later. Terrill could never say if any of them had fallen asleep that night, but he knew of his own difficulties in doing so, his shoulder and arm aching horribly. Perhaps, he began to figure, Krysta had prevented him from storming off to avoid aggravating those wounds, but by the time he’d awoken after only a few-hours nap, Terrill felt they hadn’t improved at all.
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The morning proved to Terrill that he hadn’t been imagining the overcast weather of the day before. According to Walter, it was even quite common around these parts, along with the occasional rain. Terrill hoped they wouldn’t have to deal with that, given the tattered state of the clothes he and Krysta wore. Walter was nonplussed about that predicament when he dismantled his camp, hoisted his bag high and began to lead them out of the valley.
To their usual lack of luck, there was a shower on the rocky plains northward, the direction in which the capital city of Valorda lay (a capital that took the name of its country). The only positive aspect of that journey was that there was no mud to bar their path or make their journey more difficult than it already was. Just wet stones that soon became dried grass, dead and withered. There were no towns around, and Walter’s words the day before about the nearest town being a whole day’s march ahead of them began to make sense; there was no way to eke a living out on those grasslands.
“Valorda, mostly, covers the entire southern half of the continent, which makes it probably the largest country in the world,” Walter chose to explain when they saw a large building on a set of hills where the grass looked more fertile. The way the sunset hit it gave it a beautiful glow, despite its imposing features. “Invaria does have land on the northern continent, but they’re mostly a naval country. Valorda is land-based, which is why their premier fortress, Fort Tierial, lies south of the capital. If the line was ever pushed to the badlands, it’s very possible Valorda could be lost, especially with the lands north of the capital being borderline uninhabitable since the war.”
“And what about the south? Past Seaman’s Trough?” Terrill asked, throwing his gaze back in the direction they came from. A mission they may have been on, but Terrill was more than willing to absorb all of the geo-political information that Walter was giving.
“The O’Della Canyon and then…no one knows. Most are turned away or get lost in the canyon,” was the response. Their trio was climbing up the hills now, ever-closer to the imposing fort with its country’s flags waving high in the sky. They were red, with some kind of bird in gold on the front, a shield and sword painted behind it. “There are some legends, but the country doesn’t care for them. Be careful not to mention them. At least we’ll be able to get by Fort Tierial without issue; there may be a war incoming, but the flags are flying in a way that suggests the king isn’t holed up in there.”
“The king, huh?” Terrill mused, sharing a gaze with Krysta. They both knew he was their best shot, but without Floyd, any chance of meeting him would get much trickier.
“Wise man, King Phillip is,” Walter continued. They were now on the hills, the rain fully behind them. Their pace quickened with the effort of arriving at the nearby town before night could officially fall. The presence of monsters was low, Terrill could tell, but he preferred not be caught on the unknown plains at night. “He inherited the mantle from his father, though the war happened in his relative youth, and possibly tempered him. Good man. Not afraid to get in with the people and the soldiers, and he always inspired his nobles to do the same, from House Frost to House Lyten. I’d imagine a similar situation is happening in Invaria with Crown Prince Ricardo. Young boy with a good head on his shoulders, but I’d imagine the growing tensions are testing him.”
“You seem to know an awful lot,” Krysta said, though the smile indicated she was in a better mood than last night.
“A traveler must always know the news of the road ahead, lest he be caught between a rock and monster. I’ve no intent of either until I see my task through.” Terrill made no comment, watching the dark shadow flutter across Walter’s face before he replaced it with his gruff geniality. “In any case, let’s press onward. The capital is still a three day’s walk from here, and we’ll want strength at the end of it.”
That strength, Terrill came to realize, was derived from their silence. While the town they stayed in that night was comfortable enough, there was little in the way of settlements between there and the capital city. Even the shoreline was invisible to their party, with Walter explaining that it would take double the time to walk from coast to coast. That distance put all their efforts into the road ahead, only a small outpost with a platoon of alert soldiers interrupting the doldrums of their journey.
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The worst part about it was how much the silence and monotony of the march made Terrill think, his shoulder still remembering the searing ache that Blaise had caused it. And his death. Terrill couldn’t forget the way Winifred had so coolly finished him off. It continually brought his mind back around to the Fiends, their seeming disappearance from his life for those four days reminding him of that waiting period after Devil’s Haven.
With how fast they struck afterwards, Terrill feared for what they were planning next.
Whatever it was, said plan had not yet visited Valorda on the cool, crisp morning of their fifth day of walking. The banner of the largest kingdom in the world still flew high atop an alabaster castle that could be seen for miles. They weren’t anywhere near the wall that surrounded Valorda when they saw it in all of its glory. With every step towards it, more of the city was revealed and it was an absolute marvel to Terrill.
In his lifetime, he could only remember Sayn as the very heart of their kingdom, and it had always amazed him how large it was. Now, however, he was seeing something that dwarfed Sayn by comparison.
The closest to describe it was as a citadel, with turrets stretching high to the sky and pointed roofs with the flag of Valorda flapping about in the fair breeze. With his eyes traveling down, Terrill could see the buildings and houses, a great many of them, that made up the city. It looked like a place that to pass from one end to the other could take almost a day to traverse, though he couldn’t truly estimate; Valorda was just too big.
There was no dock, either, but four well-constructed gates that were letting people in as they came from the shores with carts or just the bags on their backs. There was a moat surrounding the city, as well, along with numerous tributaries that trickled down. One of these rivers came near the trio on their approach. Terrill found his steps quickening, excited to see the heart of this beautiful place, only to be amazed by the giant wall that surrounded the city. It was beautiful and unblemished, save for some wear and tear of the ages, but the state of it being maintained so wonderfully told Terrill it was considered priceless to these people. It was well-defended, too, with the soldiers on it alert and prepared for any confrontation.
“It is a beauty,” Walter said, stopping at the crest of a hill right before the descent to the drawbridge. “Only place more beautiful would be the Invarian Palace. That’s a sight from what I remember, but there’s none better when it comes to cities than Valorda.”
“You could fit two or three Sayns in there!” Terrill shouted out, feeling like a kid that had just discovered his favorite food. Krysta giggled at Terrill’s response, and for a glorious moment, they had forgotten about why they had come here, soaking in the new atmosphere. Walter liked that side of him, slapping him on the back to continue their journey towards the gates.
There were some soldiers there, waving through caravans and checking the occasional papers, but they appeared a jovial enough bunch. Alert, but not oppressive. It seemed exactly like what the king had been described as. The fact the soldiers waved them through without an incident made Terrill want to meet this King Phillip all the more, but he was soon waylaid by the sounds of a flute and big band from deep in the city.
“Ah! The Midsummer Festival!” Walter said with a cheer, clapping his hands together. The three crossed the drawbridge, entering Valorda proper, and Terrill was taken aback by how gorgeous it was. “Valorda could be considered to sit at the center of the world, so it experiences all four seasons, with a festival for each. It’s nice to see that even in the tense times, the people can relax.”
Terrill had to admit that the festivities around him were making even him feel rather cozy.
Garlands of flowers were strung from rooftop to rooftop, winding their ways between lampposts that glittered despite the daylight. The smoothly paved roads provided an easy path for merchants and other carts to travel from place to place. People bustled up and down the lanes, with some in a hurry, and one almost bumping into Terrill and apologizing before darting down a clean alleyway with bread held in their baskets. Streamers and banners hung where the flowers were not, creating that warm vibe of a festival. A yell from a window above startled Terrill, a sack of something being tossed between the rows of houses. A grin came to his face.
“It’s something remarkable, indeed. This way,” Walter called. Terrill and Krysta stuck close to him while he turned down a smaller road. This one was less congested, but fed out to another major street. Once there, Terrill looked down to the end to see a large construction project that was abandoned. “They were going to build a watchtower, until…”
That sobering detail brought Terrill back to reality, his glee leaving him.
He no longer noticed the happy sights of the Midsummer Festival, but instead all of the greater signs that Valorda was preparing for war. Soldiers stalked the streets in pairs, and some posters were plastered on the sides of walls, calling for people to serve their country. There were no weapons in the street, at least none from civilians, but Terrill could now feel the tension rolling off them at the coming war, and the news that resulted from it. Or perhaps it was his own tension. Terrill couldn’t be sure.
Walter diverted them again, this time coming remarkably close to what looked like Valorda’s main square. The music roared back into his ears and smell of heavenly food wafted over to his nostrils. Krysta began to drool until Walter stopped them just before entering the plaza.
“Now this is the Kingdom of Valorda!” He stepped aside and the sight of the festival before them flourished!
The duo stood there, soaking in the great excitement that was present in the square. Hawkers sold their goods to anyone who walked by, bakers served up loaves, and the local tavern had seats and tables set outside for everyone to watch the dancers in the square, synchronized with the band that was lending its lively atmosphere. Krysta got sucked into it, beginning to clap along with the tune, a light laugh leaving her lips. Terrill almost gave in, himself, when he felt a small bag pressed into his hands, courtesy of Walter. It jingled in his hold, revealing coins, and Terrill blinked.
“Think of it as a parting gift,” the hunter said. He was starting to walk away, stretching his arms to the sky while he made for the tavern. “You two look to need new clothes, so have some fun. Couple out on the town deserves some.”
“So that’s it, then?” Terrill asked, ignoring Walter’s favorite topic about he and Krysta.
“Did the job, yeah? Be seeing you, Terrill, Krysta. I have me a knight to find.” Terrill huffed, air blowing out his nostrils, but let the man go, watching him walk straight into the inn. Terrill supposed they would end up meeting again sooner or later.
“He’s a kind man. Kinder than he wants to be, I think,” Krysta said. Terrill nodded, and soon felt a tug on his arm, with the blonde pulling him into the square. “Come on!”
“Agh, Krysta, where-?” She made very apparent where, as the seller they found themselves in front of sold any number of dresses and traveling clothes. Terrill blanched at thought of having to shop, but one sniff of his own shirt told him he needed something more for the road ahead, as well as a bag.
“What do you think?” Krysta asked, holding up a pink shirt against her red jacket. He wasn’t sure what she was asking, at least not until she trod upon his foot.
“Ow…looks…nice?”
“You’re not good at this, are you?”
“Good at what?” Terrill asked, but never received an answer. Krysta paid the woman in charge of the shop for the shirt and a pair of pants, similar in style to the ones she was wearing, but with a distinctive floral pattern running up the side. Terrill opted for a simple white shirt, finding no need for further clothing so long as he could wash the ones he had on.
“Here!” a small voice chirped, catching Terrill’s attention. With a blink, he noted a young girl that measured up to his waist talking to him. He bent low to see what she was holding out to him, and noticed it was a small bracelet of flowers that she slipped on. “Mama says it’s free! The pretty lady can have one for her head!”
“You think it would look good on me?” Krysta said from next to Terrill. The girl’s response was to place the crown of flowers upon her head and give an enthusiastic “mmhmm!”. This time, Krysta gave a twirl and repeated her question. “What do you think?”
“You look good, Krysta. Like a real summer maiden.” She punched his shoulder for the perceived insult. “Hey, I wasn’t joking.”
“Oh…well…” Her embarrassed mutters were drowned by the band picking up in full swing. People started to gather in the square as the dancers dispersed, with parents dancing alongside their children and couples taking to their feet. Those waiting on the sides joined in by clapping and singing a song that sounded both rhythmically off yet went right with the notes being played. The little girl who had given the two their flowers grabbed Krysta’s wrist with a beaming grin.
“Come on, pretty lady! I wanna dance!” Krysta couldn’t say no, and found herself being dragged into the square by the little girl. Terrill gave a full-tilt laugh, seeing her struggle to keep up with this little force of nature. After a few moments, Krysta managed to get the hang of things, swapping with the girl and numerous partners while they proceeded with the dance steps.
“Aye, that’s a beautiful girl you got there,” chortled one of the men at a table. He was with some of the others, holding to tankards while they tapped their feet to the beat. Terrill realized they were talking to him, and tore his eyes away from Krysta. She looked happy. “You two newlyweds out on a journey to home?”
“Nothing like that,” he assured the man, but the men at the table didn’t believe him. He didn’t feel like correcting them; too many people seemed to assume that of him and Krysta (with good reason, he supposed, given their closeness) that trying to change all of their minds was an exercise in futility. Instead, Terrill enjoyed the dancing, watching Krysta twirl with the little girl by lifting her up. Her blonde hair flew around her face, and her gray eyes sparkled, bringing her red cheeks into prominence.
In that moment, as Krysta danced through the square, with all her worries gone away, Terrill came to see that she was, in fact, quite the beautiful woman. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, of course, and it was just for a moment, but the smile she wore and glitter in her eyes made him want to go out and dance.
“I know that look… You’d best run to her before some other man snatches her up.”
“No, I’m saying-” Terrill’s head turned, and his eyes finally narrowed on the paper that sat atop the men’s table, with the word “Ardoris” splashed across its front. Terrill moved to look at it, only for his wrist to be caught.
“Come on, Terrill, no more sitting on the sidelines. Dance with me!” Terrill was torn away, taken up into Krysta’s arms as she roped him into the plaza. The men at the tavern snickered, clapping to cheer him on. He would have snapped at these unknown men to cut it out, but Krysta had brought him into her whirlwind, the two spinning.
Terrill’s feet almost fell over one another until he righted himself and managed to find the way to fall in step with her. It would hardly be considered elegant by any stretch, but Terrill found his rhythm, and joined his hands with Krysta’s. He held her up, letting her spin as they danced around the plaza with never a thought but to the person in front of them.
The war. The Fiends. Their missing friends. For one happy, hopeful moment, it all fell away, and it was just the two of them dancing in the Valordan plaza.
The little girl that had prodded them into it was jumping up and down, gleefully tossing flower petals into the air before her mother had a chance to scold her. In that same instant, some of the other dancers changed position to dance in a circle around them. They were the center of that world, at least for them, and Terrill felt a euphoria he hadn’t felt in too long a time. That rush and affection for the people around them came pouring out, and his grin came to match Krysta’s, soon letting a foreign laugh out.
Yes, he thought to himself, catching sight of the cajoling men and the soldiers that stood near them, appreciating the dance the two shared, these people are worth protecting.
The music increased in tempo, its finale incoming, and the ring around Terrill and Krysta broke off into a mess of citizens stomping their feet. Terrill tried to mimic them alongside Krysta, but he wasn’t all that successful. He almost fell into her, but she held him up, placing a hand on his waist as they danced a little longer. Soon the violins and flute reached their end, a large crescendo that signaled the end, and Terrill spun Krysta one last time to catch her by her back, their dance ended.
The crowd erupted into cheer for the great dance of their festival, and Terrill found himself out of breath from their exercise, but feeling content. He lifted Krysta, both descending into states of chortles and giggles over their ridiculous presentation. Another song started up, this one a little slower, but they chose to sit it out, walking back over to where the men were clapping and cheering.
“You two were a sight out there!” the bearded one called, banging his mug on the table. The nearby soldier glared at him, but it didn’t deter them. “Bit unnatural at first, but you got your feet moving right.”
“Better than that kid the first day of the festival,” snarked a man with scraggly hair and a tooth missing. He seemed kind enough, but was rather clumsy with his drink, the ale spilling across the table.
“Oi, watch it!” the bearded man called, swiping his paper from the table. This time, Terrill got a better look, and his moment faded back to reality.
“Can I see that?” Terrill asked, receiving a grunt. He took the paper, and Krysta leaned in to read it with him, some of her flower petals dropping onto the pages. Sure enough, it was information he hadn’t wanted to hear.
“Weapons shipments from Xactan to Invaria found at the Resort almost two weeks ago…” she muttered. “They’ve been busy while we were out of touch.”
“No surprise. There may be a festival now, but if that’s the case, this is a powder keg away from setting both countries in flames.” Terrill looked up, realizing he was attracting the looks of the nearby soldiers. All he managed was a smile before the drunkards at the table continued with their reminiscence.
“So, like…so, like I was sayin’…”
“You weren’t ‘saying’ anything. Go home, Beasley, you’re drunk.”
“Ain’t a festival the best time to be drunk? Least I’m not a stick in the mud,” Toothless said, almost falling off his chair until a soldier tipped him back over. “I know we’re on the cusp of war and all, but we gots to remember our youths. Dancing and…and singin’…”
“Yes, we’re all glad these young ones can show us how to do that.”
“Right. So’s like I was sayin’, they’re better than that kid who seemed to treat it like some sorta castle waltz.”
“That ‘kid’ was able to meet with the king, Beasley. I think there’s a reason he’s so serious,” another man said. He was joined by a burlier fellow that pushed Beasley into his seat to avoid any further incidents of chair tipping.
“Oh yeah, Loooony was his name, off lookin’ for that stupid Wind Fortress. Hic, like it’ll change a thing. Hallucinations can’t change anythin’.”
“That’s right, Beasley, hallucinations is what you’re having,” the bearded man snapped. His mug came crashing down on the drunk’s head, knocking him out. “And you know not to go mentionin’ that. We’re gearing up for war, and mentioning that is akin to saying you’re a spy with Invaria.”
“That?” Krysta asked, tilting her head to the side.
“Wind Fortress?” Terrill added, but the bearded man clammed up, shaking his head rapidly. Terrill thought about the words spoken, piecing them together, until it all clicked, including the name. “Wait, was this kid’s name Lumen? You said he saw the king? And he was after this Wind Fortress?”
Click.
Terrill was unsure what had happened. One moment he was speaking, and the next his arm was yanked up (though at least, he reasoned, it was his better arm). He soon found his wrist was bound to Krysta’s by a pair of very familiar looking handcuffs, and between them was a soldier.
“Questions about the Wind Fortress, is it? For Invarian spies, you’re not very good at staying hidden. I think a visit to the dungeon will help. You’re under arrest.”