Chapter 235 - The Winter Festival
Sylvia had no idea what she was doing with all her free time. Some days, she spent running around town with her pet, while others involved little but watching over the snake as she tempered her magic and divinity. None of the events were particularly significant, and she could recall maybe a quarter at most. And yet, the days passed by at an alarming rate. The winter festival was upon them in the blink of an eye.
“Come on, everyone! Hurry up! We’re gonna be late!”
The tiny fairy had her arms around her mount’s wrists, tugging and pulling to the best of her ability, but the horse-moose-thing refused to budge. She continued to browse a roadside caravan without any of the urgency shared by her tiny companion.
“We’ll be fine,” said Claire.
“The competition doesn’t start until noon,” added Lia, who had joined her in sorting through the shop’s wares.
“Yeah, and that’s in like half an hour!” cried Sylvia. Her eyes were on the sun goddess, the nudity of which was hidden only by her blinding self-censor. “We’re not gonna make it in time if you guys keep shopping!”
“We’ll be fine,” repeated Claire. She ran her hands over a particularly expensive piece of armour as she dismissed the vulpine’s concern. It didn’t look like she was doing much, but the vertically-challenged elf could tell that she was taking her time committing its feel to memory.
Their other three companions looked over items of a similar make. Natalya was sorting the sword section, Arciel was waving wands around, and Matthais was inspecting sheathes for his arm-scythes. And they were not alone in inspecting the shop’s goods. Sellswords from all walks of life were taking their time carefully looking over its wares.
“Wait a second!” Sylvia darted over to the party’s catgirl, who was walking over to the counter with a two-meter-long broadsword in tow. “You’re actually buying something?” she asked, eyes wide. They went even wider when she spotted the thirty silver coins on its tag.
“I’ve been needing a new sword.”
“What’s wrong with yours? I thought it was supposed to be some super fancy super cool weapon that had a lot of history and stuff?”
The cat lowered one of her hands and touched the rapier hanging off her waist. “It’s more of a keepsake. I’m sure someone more graceful, like my sister, might be able to put it to good use, but I’m much better with something longer and more rigid.”
“Then why didn’t you replace it earlier?” asked the fairy.
The innocent question was met with an awkward smile. “Good swords are expensive. I wasn’t really comfortable with the state of our finances before, but we’ve been doing a lot better lately.”
“Mmmnnnn…” Still not looking satisfied, the fairy-shaped fox fluttered around the massive, two-handed blade that the bespeckled celestial-bait carried in her arms. “But why this one? It looks kinda cheap compared to the stuff at the weapon shop. And it’s more expensive too. Actually, why the heck are we here anyway? This place is shady as heck!” The claim earned her a dirty look from the owner, but she ignored it.
“It does?” Natalya raised the weapon again. “I picked it because it seemed a little bit lighter than usual, and that normally means there’s some mithril mixed in. It’s in the right price range for that too.”
“Let’s see…” Sylvia floated over to the blade and gave its handle a knock. “Excuse me! What are you made out of?”
There was a brief moment of silence, after which the tiny fairy responded with a slow blink. “Wait, but then how are you so light?”
Another pause.
“Oooohhhhhhh. Okay!”
“What did it tell you?”
Lia had carefully watched over the entire interaction, her eyes twinkling with feline curiosity. Few seers put any work into advancing their classes, and even fewer chose the path that provided the ability to interact with the spirits that lay in all things. It was precisely because they saw the future, and its many branching possibilities, that they so often avoided the path. The soul warden class was almost impossible to acquire. It was famously known for being an option that only aspects could select, and the world beheld by its possessors was one that left most wishing for blindness. That was precisely why the owner had dismissed the fox’s claims as would a prankster’s antics. Aspects were not the sorts of individuals that one could find casually hanging around random street stalls, after all.
“It said that it’s got a shell made of iron, but the inside is almost entirely aluminum. It might as well be hollow.”
“Really?” Lia raised the weapon to her head and gave it a knock. “I can’t tell from just messing with it. We’d probably have to open it up if we wanted to know for sure.”
“Mmmmnnn… gimme a sec. I think I can whip up a spell that’ll let you see through stuff,” said the fox.
Sylvia took a deep breath, “Don’t,” but a pinch stopped her before she could hum her tune. “She’s too much of a pervert to be trusted with anything like that.”
“I-I’m not a pervert, Claire!” shouted the cat. “I still don’t know where you managed to get that misconception in the first place.”
The claim of innocence was met with a silent, judging glare.
“I know!” said Sylvia. “That’s why I’m customizing it so that she can only see through metal.”
She took another breath, but found herself interrupted yet again. The second disturbance was made not by one of her friends, but rather a very angry looking shopkeeper with a pair of bulky, shark-faced bodyguards in tow. Both kelpfins were dressed from head to toe in full plate and armed with heavy lances, but none of the party’s members paid them any mind until the merchant got right up in their faces.
“One thousand silver coins,” he said, in a low, husky voice.
“Huh?” Sylvia cocked her head.
“Your false accusations are damaging my shop’s reputation!” The armed men stepped forward at his behest, brandishing their weapons for the girls to see. “Admit that you were talking out of your ass and pay me one thousand silver coins!”
“Uhmmmm… no thanks?” said the fairy. She spun back around and pointed at the money-grubber. “See! Just look at how dumb and greedy he is! I told you this place was shady as heck!”
“I’m starting to see it now,” said the cat, with a wry smile.
“Why the heck are you so gullible anyway? I thought you were supposed to be a blademaster or something. Aren’t you supposed to be good at telling swords apart and stuff?”
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“I-I’m good at using them,” said the cat, with a cough. “I did think the weight distribution was a little weird, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’m fairly confident in my strength.”
“Perhaps the two of you ought to cast your eyes in the shopkeeper’s direction.” Arciel joined the conversation with an amused smile on her lips. She pointed her fan at the man in question, who was so red in the face that he could have put a tomato to shame.
“Uhmmm… is it just me, or is he about to have a stroke?” asked Sylvia.
“Get them!” he shouted.
His men, however, were a little less enthusiastic about the whole affair. After looking at the confident speakers, the pair exchanged a glance, holstered their weapons, and slowly backed away with their hands in the air.
“What the hell are you doing!?” cried the salesman. “I told you to get them!”
“Sorry, but no can do,” said one guard.
“This is out of our paygrade,” agreed the other. “Look around.”
There were certainly a few disquieted onlookers, but most were watching with more amusement than concern. Natalya had gained a bit of a reputation over the past few months, albeit one as a tamer instead of a swordsman. Being one of the few catgirls so far south of Paunse, she had been clearly identified as the crazy person responsible for the massive snake that would sometimes be seen slithering through the sky.
“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Blood dribbled from the man’s nose as he suddenly lost balance and fell onto his side. “I said get them, damn it! You’re supposed to get them!”
“Yeah, I’m like two hundred percent sure he’s having a stroke.” Sylvia flew over to the man and lightly prodded him in the forehead. “His brain might explode if we keep pissing him off. Anyway! Doesn’t matter, we gotta go!”
“Right…” Natalya put the weapon back on the shelf and bent over next to its owner. “Sorry sir, are you okay? Do you need us to call someone?”
“You can fuck right off and give me my silver!” The shopkeeper’s nose grew even bloodier as he shouted at the top of his lungs. He raised his arms and prepared to shout again, but a tiny foot landed square on his forehead and sent him tumbling. His eyes rolled back immediately, with all the strength leaving his body soon after.
“Stop worrying about him!” Sylvia zipped into the space in front of her feline friend and waved her arms wildly. “We don’t have any time to deal with this! The snow-thingy-building contest is already about to start!”
“Give me just one second.” Natalya lifted the man’s body and propped him against the side of his caravan. “I’m just going to leave him to you guys,” she said, to his guards.
“Yeah, we’ll get him home in a bit,” said one.
“Sorry about him. He’s gotten a little in over his head lately,” said the other.
“We should be the ones apologizing for making a scene,” said Lia.
“Nah. Krinn’s being an idiot again is all,” the second shark laughed as he threw his employer over his shoulder and carried him away, while his companion did the same with the cart.
“Alright! That’s finally done with!” shouted the excited fox. “Come on, let’s go, let’s go!”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” A smile on her face, the cat rounded up her companions and resumed the trek towards their destination.
The streets were much cleaner than they had been at the start of the week. Having finally blown their fill, the snowstorms had decided to return to their northerly domains and put an end to their harassment of the Vel’khanese. The local maintenance workers took the opportunity to clean off the roads and make them presentable again, just in time for the winter festival to begin. They were ploughed, polished, and finally drizzled with specks of salt. It was a standard operation, but Claire was left with her head tilted and her ever-neutral face almost twisted in confusion. In Cadria, the approach was untenable. The streets were laminated in a thick layer of rock salt when the end of fall approached. If pellets were used, like they were in Vel’khagan, some unsanitary horse or deer was likely to eat them right off the ground, but no such behaviour was observed.
It was not just the roads that were maintained, but the aqueducts as well. The ice that covered their topmost layers was broken up, and government workers were stationed by common exits to ensure that they were not blocked by an excess of clutter.
Their destination, however, had received no such treatment. The winter art contest was to take place in a suburban park just outside the barrier. Despite lying beyond the walls, it was generally considered a safe place where one could stroll without having to be concerned with the forest’s monsters. Of course, there were rarely any powerful beasts that lurked right next to the settlement, but many appreciated how unguarded its denizens could be, especially in such a wide, open area.
“Whew! We barely made it!” Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief as she floated back to the group with a wooden tag in tow. “The lady at the desk said that we can start heading to our places and start as soon as some important guy gives a speech.”
She grew to her full, humanoid size and planted her feet in the snow as she walked towards the stage. Unlike most of the others, she was dressed in her usual summer attire. The elven tunic alone was obviously not enough to keep the cold away, so she hummed a quick tune that allowed her to stay warm, even as her bare feet trod across the snow. Claire was the only other one to dress so lightly. Lia and Arciel were wearing enchanted scarves, and Matthias had a large fuzzy cloak strapped around his lanky green shoulders. Even Marc was wearing a sweater, namely one that Lia had knitted for her in her spare time. It wasn’t the prettiest thing, but neither was the sea cow, so it all worked out in the end.
“Do we have to watch this?” Claire grabbed the foxgirl’s cheeks and tugged them as she cast her eyes on the production. There were a few men standing on the stage, but none of them were dressed well enough to be the important individual described by the receptionist. Much less clear, however, was whether the individuals in question were supposed to be on stage. They were clearly drunk out of their minds, and their singing voices were awful enough to make some of the children cry.
“I think so,” said Sylvia. “They’re gonna tell us the rules and stuff.”
Surely enough, a few moments of waiting confirmed that the three bald dwarves were not officially commissioned performers. One of the organisers, a golem covered in moss, stomped his way over and shooed them off before droning on in a boring, monotonous voice.
“Thank you all for attending our seventeenth annual winter art contest. We are grateful to have you here with us today and thank the great gods and goddesses above for the clear weather with which we may mark the opening of this glorious winter festival.” If there was anything interesting about the speech, it was how many words he could say in a row. It was a racial trait, one that arose as a function of not needing to breathe. “Our judging panel this year features a special guest, who I would like to introduce to you now.”
A bulky centaur stepped onto the stage and greeted the crowd with a wave.
“Please send your regards to the honoured and kind Marquis Timaios Pollux for having flown across the sky to grace us today with his presence. This honoured guest has purchased Serenity Colosseum with several changes in mind such that he may remodel its features in the way of his countrymen and reopen it for a grand ceremony on the day of the solstice. His kindness has allowed us to grant all participants an extra reward in addition to any cash prices or vouchers that may be received based on your standing.”
He went on and on, stretching what could have easily been summarised in just a few words into a ten minute-long presentation.
“Mmk… so basically, we have two hours, we’re not allowed to use any magic that’ll shape it directly, and the final product can’t be made of anything but ice and snow.” Having listened intently, Sylvia quickly summarized the regulations for those that couldn’t be bothered.
“It sounds like it,” said Natalya.
They headed towards their lot as soon as the presentation came to an end. Like most of the others, the 49th was a relatively barren space with a large pile of snow packed into one of its corners. Though it had been lifted straight off the city streets, it was surprisingly clean, sporting none of the dirt, salt, or other impurities that one would expect to see.
“So what are we going to make?” asked Lia. She was the only one that had volunteered to aid the fox in crafting their award-winning masterpiece, while everyone else was there mostly to enjoy the other attractions placed around the festival grounds. Claire had more or less agreed to join in after a bit of coaxing, but the organiser’s speech had sent her straight to dreamland.
“I’m not really sure anymore,” replied the fox. “I was gonna make a castle, but this spot looks a bit too bumpy for that.”
“We might still be able to build one if you give it a moat.”
“Mmnnnn… I dunno.” Sylvia frowned for a moment before lighting up. “Hey Ciel, are you sure you wanna sit out? ‘Cause I just had a great idea.”
“I am positive,” said the squid. “I would prefer to refrain from any activities likely to encourage sweating in such cold weather.”
“Awww…”
“What’s this great idea?” asked Lia.
Sylvia’s droopy tail straightened. “Right! So I had this thought…” She clapped her hands and crafted an illusory model of a certain familiar creature. “We should make a giant snow Claire!”