Chapter 241 - The Winter Festival VII
Despite the interruption that marked its rocky start, the winter festival carried on without further issue. The party took the lack of developments in stride and merrily indulged in the festivities. They walked around in public without any disguises, but perhaps because the city guard was, for the most part, in Arciel’s pocket, or perhaps because it was difficult to pick one particular group out from all the others flooding the streets, Claire and co went completely unharassed. For the party’s members and mascots, the tentacle monster’s occasional nonpresence was the only reminder that they were up to anything at all.
Every day came with a new swath of events. They took part in the mounted races, enjoyed carnival games, and attended formal parties hosted by their acquaintances. But on the tenth day of the festival, and very last day in the year, they began with a task unlike any of the others. They travelled together in the early hours before dawn, joining the tens of thousands of solemn city goers as they slowly moved through the streets. There was no distinction between the classes. Nobles and beggars walked side by side like equals, with neither group so much as reacting to the other.
As the sun slowly peaked out from beneath the horizon, and marked the start of the shortest day, the faithful flooded into the temples dedicated to the gods of their worship. Volume was not a problem. Every holy building was ten times over capacity, but the deities expanded the interiors, warping them every time it was necessary so that their followers could say their prayers and make their offerings undisturbed. Exactly as they did every year.
It was for the holy ceremony that the party’s members went their separate ways. Natalya was off to sing the thunder god’s praises. Arciel visited the temple of the moon, and Matthias entered himself into Primrose’s garden. Even Marcelle was off to one place or another, though it was unclear exactly which god she showed her piety, or if she understood the concept at all. As for Claire, she eventually found herself just outside the temple of the flow. Flux was technically her patron, even if she had little to no faith in the goddess or her nebulous schemes.
“Are you sure you don’t want to be somewhere else?” The question was addressed to the fox on her head. It was too early for Sylvia. She was yawning and stretching at every opportunity, fighting to stay awake.
“Mmmnnn… not really. Some of the other foxes pray to the goddess of harvest and the god of the hunt, but I’ve never really seen the point. They don’t really get any say on what happens back home anyway.”
“What about Alfred?”
“He’s more like everyone’s grandpa, and it’s kinda hard to pray to people you know unless you’re some sort of weirdo.”
“Good point.”
Claire raised her head and took a moment to examine her sworn goddess’ grounds. The aura it aired was not quite as thorny as that of the surrounding temples. She could still feel it prodding against the divinity that lay dormant in her bones, but while certainly obnoxious, it was gentler, warmer, and more welcoming.
As far as aesthetics went, Flux’s place of worship was on the better end of the scale. Its grounds were larger than those of its competitors, and though made of wood, the building appeared just as if not more expensive than the stone-based competitors in its vicinity. Every pillar was finely crafted, made from planks of the highest quality; there was not a single blemish in any of the hundreds of pieces used to put the shrine together. The already fine saltwood was further bolstered with a layer of lacquer, used to preserve its deep, amber colour.
Far more curious than the material used in its construction was its acoustic landscape. The oceans were frozen solid; there wasn’t any exposed water for miles, but the temple came accompanied by the sounds of rolling waves, roaring and crashing against a distant shore.
Upon entering the building, she found herself greeted immediately by a giant clock. It was smack in the middle of the foyer, a grand display around which front desks were placed. On any other day, she likely would have approached them and asked to be taken to her destination. But on the solstice, she needed only to follow the crowd. Tens, hundreds, thousands funneled into the underground chamber. Flux was practically unknown in Cadria, but for those that lived their lives within the flowing water, she was as widely worshipped as the god of the depths.
Claire was half expecting the goddess to whisk her away when she assumed the position at the end of the infinitely long altar. But she remained where she was even after clasping her hands, placing her offering—a broken piece of the leviathan’s shell—and invoking a prayer. It was certainly a welcome change, but at the same time, she felt a mild irritation crawl down the back of her spine. It was very much like the goddess of the eternal flow not to be there, the one time she sat down to seek her.
Once she was done with the ceremony, Claire left the temple the very same way she entered. Following the flowing lines, she walked up the stairwell, thanked the priests and priestesses, and set her sights on the hotel once more.
“This is really weird,” said Sylvia, as they moved through the crowd.
“What is?” asked Claire.
“This whole day! Everyone’s acting really weird, and foot traffic is like going impossibly smoothly. You see how like, everyone’s going in different directions but no one’s running into each other? And it’s not like anyone’s consciously trying to avoid anyone else either. It’s just kinda working even though it really shouldn’t.”
“Flitzegarde’s handiwork, no doubt,” said the lyrkress. She certainly would have agreed had it been any other day, but such was the norm on the Day of Devotion, be it on Cadrian or Vel’khanese soil.
“Probably, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel wrong,” said Sylvia, with her lips pursed into a frown. “I dunno, I just didn’t really like it. It kinda creeped me out.”
“Hardly matters if it only happens twice a year.” The lyrkress floated up onto her balcony. The door was locked, and she didn’t have any keys on her, but a quick vector was all she needed to open it from the inside.
“Yeah, but still!”
“Save your buts for later. Hurry up and get dressed. The party’s starting within the hour.” Claire was already standing in front of the mirror with her outfit rapidly changing. The magical cloak cycled between the gowns she had owned, the dresses she saw in the stores nearby, and a few of her own creations.
“Hurrying’s not gonna make a difference! It’s only gonna take a second anyway.”
Sylvia leapt off her vehicle’s head and assumed her humanoid form. She was in the usual elven outfit, a revealing green dress layered with golden embroidery, by the time her body finished morphing. It looked perfectly ironed despite having come straight out of her tail, but Claire met it with a frown. She walked a circle around the fox, who nervously straightened up, before moving over to the wardrobe and rummaging around.
“What happened to the gown Arciel brought you yesterday?”
“It’s still sitting around in my tail, but I don’t really wanna wear it ‘cause all the extra stuff makes it super stuffy.”
“Stop complaining and put it on.”
“Ughhhhh… do I really have to?”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Yes.”
Claire approached the fox, which naturally led her to shrink away. And the lyrkress to continue shortening the distance. The back and forth continued until the forest critter was pinned to the wall. She tried darting off to one side, but the snake glomped her before she could run and tackled her to the ground. She immediately reached for the base of her companion’s tail and began rummaging around.
“Wait, Claire! Hold on! Stop, please!”
“No.”
But no matter where her hand went, she found nothing but fistfulls of hair.
“Where’s your stuff?”
“It’s in a separate dimension, dummy! Did you really think I actually kept stuff inside my tail!?”
“Yes.”
“But there’s like, no way that’s even remotely possible!”
“You can talk to swords and sing trees to life.”
“Well I mean… yeah, but my tail is just a normal tail! It’s obviously not going to have anything inside of it!”
“There’s nothing obvious about it.” Claire let go of the fox’s feather duster and moved half a step back. “Now hurry up and change. We don’t have much time.”
“Oh, fine… But you have to help me put it on. It’s got way too many fancy strings and I have no idea how I’m supposed to tie any of them up.” The fox reluctantly retrieved the bright purple gown and set it down on her lap. She had initially picked out a lime green outfit instead, but everyone else had rejected it on the grounds that it was too similar to her usual attire.
“Fine,” said Claire.
Though it would have been easy to assemble the outfit with her vectors, Claire decided to go about the ordeal with the hands instead. Her ladies in waiting had always loved dressing her up, but she had never quite seen the fun. Being on the other end, she suspected, would perhaps reveal some new insight.
“Come here.” She pulled up a chair and placed it right in front of the mirror, positioning herself behind it in the way that Beatrice and Mary always had. When the fox complied, she started first by removing the dress already sitting on her shoulders. It was quite easy to unstrap, having been fastened in place by only a few thin buckles. The step that came right after, however, gave the lady a moment of pause.
“Why are you naked?”
“Huh? You’re the one that took my clothes off!”
Claire could feel her brow twitching. “I only removed your dress. Where are your undergarments?”
“Huh? Why would I wear those?” The fox’s curious head tilt was met with a smack. “Ow!”
“It’s basic decency.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone’s gonna see anything. I can just pin my dress down with some vectors if it starts getting windy.”
Claire sighed. “At least make some with magic or something.”
“Oh, fine.” The vixen puffed up her cheeks as she thumped her tail against the chair and covered herself with an imaginary negligee. “There, happy?”
“Not really.” The lyrkress pinched the other girl’s cheeks. “At least pretend you have a sense of shame.”
“What the heck! Why’s it my fault? You’re not flustered either!” huffed the fox.
“I am,” said Claire. She pointed at her lips. “Look. I’m having a hard time keeping a straight face.”
“You are?” Sylvia leaned forward and squinted at the mirror. “Oh, you are! That’s weird. I’m pretty much naked all the time, aren’t I?”
“Weren’t you the one that said it wasn’t indecent while you were a fox?”
“Uhhh… did I say that?”
“Right after Borrok Peak exploded.”
“Oh… ohhh… yeah, I guess I did.” Sylvia stuck out her tongue and scratched the back of her head. “I don’t really think it’s that bad if I’m a person either. It’s not like I’m constantly leaking like a succubus or anything, and most of the time I’m really small so you can’t really see much anyway.”
“So that’s what happens when Alfred corrupts your sensibilities,” muttered the lyrkress.
“Wait, wait! That was a joke!” cried the fox, her face finally reddening. “You weren’t supposed to take it seriously!”
“Too late. No take backs.”
“I already took it back before you said that!”
“That’s not how that works.”
“Yes it is! And plus, I like, barely ever grow big anyway! It doesn’t even feel like it’s really my body, so I don’t care if people see!”
“I’m sure.”
“Claire! You meanie! Dummy! I hate you!” Sylvia grabbed the other girl by the shoulders and shook her back and forth. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite wobble the grin off her mount’s lips. “Wait a second! You’re naked half the time too!”
The claim was met with a confused blink.
“You know, how you turn super long and stuff?”
“I’m never naked,” said Claire. “I always wear something over my ears.” She spun the fox back around and continued stringing up her outfit.
“That doesn’t count! Those are just accessories!”
Claire faced the other direction. “My ears are the only parts that need covering.”
“Yeah, but you’re just decorating them! That’s like putting on a pair of super cute panties and saying you’re dressed!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re just mad ‘cause you’re totally a streaker.” Sylvia stuck out her tongue. “That’s probably why you’ve got a whole church of pervs after your ears.” The moose continued to keep her eyes away from the mirror, but to little effect. The fully gowned fox appeared directly in her line of sight with a teasing grin. “Y’know, it’s totally your fault there are so many of them! I still can’t believe you put on that whole show that one time you ran into them.”
“It was worth it. My divinity ballooned.”
“Reaaaaally?” The fox narrowed her eyes, eyes that Claire, of course, was still unwilling to meet.
“Let’s go. Everyone else headed straight for the venue.”
“You can’t just change the subject the moment I beat you in an argument!” cried the fox.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Claire grabbed the taller girl by the scruff and dragged her towards the door. “Now come on. We need to leave.”
“Wait! What about Boris and Marc?”
“What about them?”
“Shouldn’t we dress them up too?”
The manatee in question appeared in the window frame as if on cue, her big derpy eyes shining as she undoubtedly envisioned herself in some sort of dress or other.
“Don’t be silly.” But her hopes were immediately dashed. “Marcelle is staying outside in the stables with all the other mounts.”
“Huh!? That’s so unfair! Why’s she gotta be stuck out there all by herself?”
“Are you even listening? I just said she won’t be by herself. There’ll be plenty of turberi and horses.” Claire rolled her eyes. “But if you’re really worried…” The lyrkress opened the window with her tail and beckoned the cow to approach. “Choose. Left or right.” One hand contained a fistful of seaweed, while the other was occupied by a fancy dress. Both, of course, were made of ice, models she had quickly sculpted by molding her magic.
Marcelle lazily looked between the two of them, her flippers flapping against her belly. After a rather lengthy delay, she eventually turned towards the dress and nudged it with her nose.
“See! Marc totally wants to come with us!”
“I doubt it,” said Claire. “Marcelle.”
The manatee barked, made eye contact, and cocked her head.
“Would you change your mind if it was real seaweed?”
The manatee took another moment to pause before nodding vigorously and pointing at the other option.
“See?” said Claire. “She only picked the dress because the food wasn’t real.”
“Huh!?”
“She wants food more than dresses.”
“But she’s gonna be out there all by herself! You totally weren’t being fair!” Sylvia puffed up her cheeks.
“It seems plenty fair to me,” said Claire, as she watched the manatee happily chew on the icy seaweed sculpture. “Now let’s go. Everyone else is waiting.”