Chapter 18 – Festival Fun

"Father, please! I want to go. You promised me that I would be able to go," Morrigan held onto Alphegor's sleeve while he did his best to avoid her gaze.

"Morrigan, you know that we cannot take a stroll through the Festival. Our presence alone carries a lot of weight," he objected, gently trying to free his sleeve from her grasp. But Morrigan wrapped her hands around his waist and looked up at him with large, teary eyes.

"Please, please, please! I have never been to a festival so large," she continued. While there certainly were festivals on Earth she had experienced, it was never on such a scale and never together with her family. "And we should take Deziara and perhaps some of my other sisters with us!"

"No, that is completely out of the question. While I wish for all of my daughters to experience the festival, it will be from a safe distance guarded from all potential dangers. Or have you forgotten what happened when you left the castle under Azrael's watch," Alphegor scowled, but Morrigan was not deterred.

"That is different! This time I'd be together with you, Father. And there is no safer place than next to you," she said and then added in a hurry. "We could always just transform."

The King paused, considering the idea. Morrigan took it as a good sign and continued her onslaught.

"Please, Father! I really want to see it."

"Hmm… If we were to go transformed then our transformation has to be good enough not to arouse suspicion of even the most skilled mages. One slip up and they could sense who we really are," Alphegor said.

"Azrael said that my transformation skills are excellent. And if somebody does notice us, then you could quickly silence them, couldn't you, Father? You're the strongest demon in the world after all!"

"Do not think that flattery would work on me," Alphegor growled, and Morrigan released her hold on him. He then cleared his throat and continued. "But if you are confident about your transformation abilities, then I suppose we could go out for a little bit."

"I love you!" She cheered, but the King narrowed his eyes at her, making her pause.

"But it will come at a price."

"Price?"

What price could I possibly pay him? Perhaps he wants me to do something? Or promise that I won't do something – like never leave the castle? I wouldn't want to promise that, but if that's what it takes to go to the Festival…

Alphegor bent down and then tapped on his cheek with a smile. Morrigan giggled and pecked his cheek. He hummed with satisfaction and then his form began to change. A minute later he had changed into a shorter demon with darker skin and black, short hair. His horns had also become much shorter, making him look more like a lesser demon.

Morrigan began her transformation as well, adopting the same dark skin tone and black hair as him. She changed her hair into short curls and made her horns barely visible.

"Will this do?" she asked, and Alphegor nodded.

"Very good. And remember – you are not allowed to leave my side," He held up his finger in warning.

"I wouldn't dream of it!"

***

Morrigan looked in awe at the various stalls lining the streets. Foods, clothes, toys, trinkets of every size and shape. Her eyes eagerly darted from one stall to the next, unable to decide what she wanted to try out first. Disguised Alphegor meanwhile was cautiously scanning the surroundings, seemingly more concerned about the density of the crowd rather than the Festival's colorful offerings.

"Father, look at all these things! It's amazing," Morrigan cheered and walked up to the stall that had an array of colored potion bottles set out on the table. Alphegor quickly pulled her away, glaring at the stall owner who instinctually flinched back.

"Some of these things have no business being at a Festival," the King grumbled. "Perhaps, I should impose stricter policies on vendors."

"None of that work stuff now! We are here to enjoy ourselves," Morrigan reprimanded and dragged her father deeper into the festive crowd. As she scanned the stalls, she noticed some demons lining up in front of what looked like a game. There were little metallic rods set out in a triangular pattern while the player tossed an orange ring.

But the demons playing didn't hold onto the ring for long, instead throwing it before even properly lining up the shot.

"Father, what is that?" Morrigan asked and pointed at the game stall.

"Looks like a game of magma ring toss. If you manage to land a ring on the rod, you get a prize," he explained, looking rather bored by it.

"Can I try?"

"Absolutely not!"

"What? Why?" she whined, tugging on his sleeve.

"Those are magma rings. You will burn your fingers."

"Wait… you mean like real magma?" Morrigan shuddered, remembering the heat she experienced near the lava river.

Although, I am resistant to fire now. Perhaps the magma rings wouldn't even burn me if their temperatures weren't too extreme.

"Yes. It starts off cool but quickly heats up so the player doesn't have a lot of time to take aim. It's borderline illegal," Alphegor huffed.

"But I am resistant to fire. Could I at least try? Look, they have all sorts of prizes," Morrigan said, pointing at the shelf lined with various prizes clearly meant for children.

"I can buy thousands of such prizes and then a hundred thousand more on top of that," Alphegor said and tried to drag Morrigan away.

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"But it's the experience of how you got it that matters! Please, Father," Morrigan whined, and some of the demons passing by chuckled at their display. Alphegor rubbed his temples and sighed.

"Alright, but I'll be playing. I don't want you burning your fingers," he said and strode up to the booth. Morrigan wanted to protest at first but then paused to think about it.

Wouldn't it be fun to see Father play a game? How often does one see a king fumble at a silly carnival game? I cannot let this chance slip by.

Morrigan ran to stand by his side, as they waited for their turn at the game. Alphegor tapped his foot impatiently as one after another the demons failed to land the magma ring on the rods. Most just dropped it after a few seconds while a few more resilient individuals were fast enough to toss it, but not lucky enough to actually land it on the targets.

"Would you like to give your daughter a try, sir?" the cheeky, red-skinned demon man behind the counter said. He clearly felt some sort of satisfaction from watching all the people fail, children walking away from the stall sullen or even crying.

That nasty guy needs to be taught a lesson.

"I'll give it a try," Alphegor said and threw a silver coin at the demon. He caught it swiftly in the air without missing a beat and then slid three magma rings towards him.

"You win a prize for each ring that you manage to land on the rods. Doesn't matter which one. And if you somehow manage to land all three then you get to choose from the special prize pool."

"Special prize pool?" Morrigan asked, leaning on the counter.

"Yes. Some of the rarest treasures the Demon Kingdom has ever seen can be found among them. Just feast your eyes," the vendor said and pulled out a large transparent case. Inside it sat three objects – a potion that sparkled like a nebula, a pinkish gem, and a tube of paint from the looks of it.

"What are those?" Morrigan asked, not seeing any value in any one of them. Except the paint perhaps.

"This is a Potion of Farsight. Drink and you'll be able to see any faraway place you wish. Next is a Pink Tourmaline – said to give its user the ability to charm their enemies. And finally – a tube of golden magic paint."

"Magic paint? How is it magic?" Morrigan's eyes lit up and she reached out her hand towards the case. The vendor pulled it back and then hid it below the counter.

"If you want to see what it does, then you'll have to try it out for yourself!" The demonic vendor teased. Morrigan looked at her Father with pleading eyes, but his gaze was already focused on the metallic rods.

He took the first magma ring and it instantly began glowing like a hot raging flame. However, the King wasn't bothered in the slightest, instead aiming it and tossing it straight onto the closest rod. The vendor blinked in disbelief and raised his finger to say something. But Alphegor already grabbed the second ring and without hesitation threw it onto the second rod.

"How?" the man uttered, his mouth agape in shock. Then Alphegor took the last ring and just as seamlessly threw it onto the last rod.

"Magic paint, please!" Alphegor slapped his hand down on the counter, a victorious smile on his face.

"You cheated!" the demon protested, but the King glared so hard that even in his rather soft-looking disguise, the vendor took a step back.

"Are you implying that the game is impossible to win?" Alphegor glowered. Morrigan could almost see the dark, menacing aura coming out of him.

"N-no! Of course not. Go ahead and take your prize," the vendor shakily retrieved the case and unlocked it with a wave of his hand. Morrigan instantly grabbed the paint and clutched it close to her chest.

"Thank you, Father! You're the best!" she cheered.

"Of course I am! Let's go see what other things this Festival has to offer," Alphegor outstretched his hand towards Morrigan, and she grabbed onto it, clutching the magic paint in the other hand.

Hand in hand they strode through the crowd, enjoying the festive atmosphere and admiring all the hard work people had put into the stalls, be it merchandise, food or games. They bought two crepes – one with a savory, meaty filling and the other with a sweet, creamy filling – which they both shared.

The day went on and Morrigan was beginning to feel tired when she noticed a demon child run by with a face that was painted to resemble a dragon. She watched him with awe and then saw a few more children with painted faces weave through the crowd.

"Excuse me, where did you get that face paint?" Morrigan asked one of the children passing by.

"A lady in the stall over there is coloring the faces of anybody who asks," the child pointed towards one of the stalls, and then continued on his way.

"Father, can I?" she looked pleadingly at Alphegor, who chuckled in response.

"Sure. We still have a bit of time."

Morrigan ran towards the stall and saw how a rather lanky woman with unusual pink hair swept on one side was painting a red dragon on a little demon girl's face. She went up to them and watched in awe, how she smoothly and precisely drew lines on the child's face, turning her skin into a canvas.

The woman didn't even notice Morrigan at first, that's how engrossed she was in her work. After a moment, she caught her watching, but chuckled at her enthusiasm, "Want to have your face painted next?"

Morrigan continued staring at her brush strokes, not even daring to reply, lest she missed something. The artist took it as an agreement and continued working on her current client. Less than ten minutes later, the demon girl's face had been turned to look like a marvelous dragon. The woman gave the girl a mirror, and she cheered at her reflection.

"Thank you so much," she called out and then sprinted away towards her parents, who smiled at the girl.

"So you're next? What color would you like?" the artist asked, pointing to the trays of paint she had laid out on a table next to her.

"Could I do the painting?" Morrigan asked as she admired the bright colors. The woman looked a bit shocked for a moment, but quickly regained her composure and smiled.

"We'd have to find someone who'd be willing to have you paint on them."

Oh, you're hoping that nobody would be crazy enough to allow a child to draw on them. You're out of luck!

Morrigan turned towards her father who took a cautious step back.

"Father! Please!" she put her hands together and looked at him with the saddest eyes she could muster. Alphegor sighed and with a resigned look on his face, sat down on the small stool where the girl had sat before.

"Looks like I have no choice."

The vendor laughed, then pulled out a clean apron and put it on Morrigan, "Always nice to see children be interested in art. There are too few artists in the Demon Kingdom."

"Do I need to set a base layer paint first?" Morrigan asked, eagerly looking over the paints and brushes.

"Oh, not a beginner? Now I am curious as to what your little hands will create. Please, put this clear base coat first. It'll protect the skin from harm and also allow the paint to remain vibrant and unsmudged."

Morrigan nodded and took the large soft brush. Alphegor closed his eyes and she began to gently cover his face with the base layer, making sure not to miss a single spot.

"Very good! Now you can choose a base color and start painting on your father's face."

Morrigan took the black color, setting it as a base, then used gray to set up highlights, not even listening to the artist's instructions anymore. Once the basics were laid down to her satisfaction, she took the gold color and began drawing in scales.

Alphegor sat unflinching the whole time, while the artist watched Morrigan's work. After about twenty minutes, she announced, "I'm done!"

Alphegor opened his eyes, while the artist whistled in amazement. She handed the mirror to Alphegor who looked at his face in amazement. The black and golden colors contrasted each other, bringing out Alphegor's shifted facial features and making him look like a dragonoid being rather than a demon.

"You've got real talent on your hands. I suggest you invest in educating your daughter in art. She'd go far."

Morrigan's shoulders slumped at this proclamation.

But I can never be an artist… My duty is to become the next queen. I can't abandon that just to frolic around and draw pretty pictures.