Chapter 443 - The Festival and the Skyward City III

Claire took a moment to scan the scenery as she emerged from her portal and stepped onto an empty bridge. Though polished like a work of art, it served no special interest or purpose. It stood simply as one of the many white-stoned walkways that guided the city’s denizens along to their destinations.

The polish stemmed from no additional effort on the citizens’ part. The conditions set by the terraformer were stable. No dirt or grime was allowed to persist for any longer than six hours. Filtered by the same cleaning system, the water that lay beneath the city was clear, glimmering beneath the moonlight as the fish skirted to and fro. Even the ugliest among them were prizes in every right. Their iridescent scales reflected the starry sky and sparkled like gemstones beneath the water. On an average night, their habitat would have been undisturbed, still as a statue, but one of the bards in the town square sent massive, undulating waves rippling its surface. Rather than using his voice, as did most others of his class, he drummed his gigantic belly instead, creating deep, reverberating booms that echoed throughout the darkness.

“Sylvia.”

“I’m u—ow!” The tiny fairy tried to get up and stretch as her name was called, but all she managed was to bang her head against the top of Claire’s headgear.

“Sorry.” Claire laughed before removing the uppermost part of her helm and allowing the vixen to climb out into the open.

“What the heck was that for!?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t think you’d get up so quickly.”

“I was bored and waiting,” huffed the foxgirl. “You took way longer than I thought you would.”

“Did you think I was just going to storm the castle?”

“...Maybe.”

“I might’ve. If I didn’t have to worry about Rubia.” The snoose removed the armour from her tail and petted her favourite dog with its fluffy tip. “How do you want me to make it up to you?”

“Mmmnnn… maybe you can start by buying me a drink?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why the heck not!?”

“Because you get drunk too easily and you immediately lose control every time you do.”

“That’s ‘cause cutting loose is fun.”

“You’re never not cutting loose.”

“Oh shush!”

“You first.” Smiling, Claire swung her legs over the bridge’s balustrade and turned her eyes upon the heavens. It was an awfully beautiful night, made even more entrancing by the storm raging beyond the city’s confines. At some point, it had turned from a light flurry to a full-on blizzard that perfectly obscured the world beyond it. “This place almost reminds me a little bit of Skyward Spire.”

“Now that you mention it… I think we could probably make one big tower if we grabbed all the pieces floating around in midair and shoved them together.”

“That’s… a great idea,” said Claire. She leaned further back and looked up at the city’s scattered platforms. “Especially if I did it overnight.”

“Uhmmm… Claire?” Sylvia blinked. “I was just kidding.”

“So was I.”

“Somehow, I seriously doubt that,” muttered the half-elf. “You looked like you were about to jump straight in the moment I said go.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you know that isn’t true.” Sylvia breathed a sigh before lying back down and spreading her arms as wide as they would go. “You really don’t need to make anything up to me. I’m happy enough already.”

“Then I won’t.”

“What the heck!? You were still supposed to offer!”

“Too bad.”

Claire suddenly spread her wings and started off into the sky. She scanned her surroundings again to make sure that no one was looking their way before removing her armour and donning a dress. It wasn’t the pure white halterneck that she had worn to Mariabelle’s party, but a long body wrap that went all the way down to her ankles.

“Uhmmm, are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Sylvia.

“We’ll be fine. No one’s looking.” Claire lifted the fox girl with a vector and pulled her into the air beside her. Though she didn’t say a word, Sylvia grew to her full size as soon as Claire extended her hand. Taking it in her own, the fox intertwined their fingers clasping them together even as her tail jittered to and fro.

And then, together, they fell up. Slowly, almost like a feather making its gradual descent, they drifted into the moon’s embrace. Never accelerating, they continued to meander until they reached the inn’s elevation. Claire spread her wings wide and slowly brought them to a stop while unlocking one of the balcony doors. It took the caldriess a moment to remember which room was hers, but she soon retrieved her wallet from her desk and fished out a fistfull of cash.

One flick later, and the dagger-shaped coins were gone. She sent them out the window and into the world so they could be replaced by a series of goods she’d spotted in town. For that, she had to leverage her divinity again. She pumped it back into her ears and traced the city in her mind. The resulting scenes were every bit as clear as they would have been had she been present in person to see them.

She watched as one of the street vendors tried to chase down the grilled steak that floated away on a plate, only to suddenly find himself struck by a coin. She watched as a particularly confused chef dropped to his knees and prayed to the god of death. And she watched as the owner of a panicked foot cart sprinted to the nearest guard station while screaming something about a brain-eating baboon.

Not everyone was quite so attentive. The vast majority of the merchants she traded with were completely oblivious to the fact that they had made a sale. One particularly keen guard did notice that there were a few pieces of food floating mysteriously through the air, but Claire nipped the problem in the bud by way of concussive memory removal.

It took about ten minutes for her to finish assembling the meal. Most of it came from travel time; not all of the dishes could be mindlessly accelerated without being ruined.

“I didn’t feel like eating on the go with a helmet,” she said, as she neatly placed everything on an invisible table made of vectors. “I grabbed everything that seemed like it might be tasty.”

“They do look pretty good...” Sylvia took a seat on a chair as invisible as the table and immediately grabbed one of the fried fish off of the nearest plate. “Is it just me, or do these look kinda familiar?”

“They’re the same fish that live under the city,” said Claire. “A lot of them were harvested for the festival.”

“Oh, no wonder!” She gave the meal a tentative sniff before throwing it into her mouth. “These are pretty good. A lot better than I thought.”

“We’ll have fresh ones tomorrow,” said Claire. “We’re going fishing. Do you want to come?”

“Uhmnmm, is it okay for me to come?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I just thought that I should probably keep out of it, since you were meeting up with an old friend ‘n stuff.”

Claire rolled her eyes before floating over the table, grabbing the fox-elf’s cheeks, and stopping her midchew with a stretch. “Stupid, stupid fox.”

Sylvia opened her mouth to mount a defence, but a pinch of the nose cut her short.

“Stop setting weird boundaries. You’re invited because I said you are. Now stop worrying.”

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“Mmk.” The half-elf smiled shyly. “Then I guess I’ll tag along. Fishing sounds fun.”

“It’ll be a lot more fun than the fishing we did in Vel’khan, at least.”

“Yeah! Wait, really?”

Claire smiled.

“You’ll see.”

“Uhmmm… now I’m getting worried.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s nothing special.”

“You saying that only makes me more worried!”

Sylvia sent a pulse of mana through the air, but Claire rejected it with a simultaneous burst of divinity. “No. Bad dog. No mind reading allowed.”

“Oh, come on,” grumbled Sylvia. “How did you even know I was gonna do it?”

“You couldn’t have made it more obvious.”

“How!?”

“Let’s see…” Claire set down the skewer that she was half done eating and wiped off her face. “The biggest dead giveaway is your face. You always scrunch up your brow. Your ears start twitching and your tail stands as well. If we look at some of the more subtle things, a little bit of light always fades from your eyes, you’ll suddenly start holding your breath, and you always bite down on your tongue.”

“Wait, really!? I give that many hints!?”

“Yup,” said Claire. “And that’s without mentioning the way that your mana shifts.”

“Ugh…” Sylvia hung her head. “Wait a second! Those are all things that I do while I’m reading your mind. You’d have to know ahead of time if you wanted to stop it!”

“That part just comes from you being easy to read in general.”

“What the heck!?” Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. “You say it like you’re any better.”

“I am.”

“Yeah, right.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “You know it’s true.”

“Prove it then.”

“I don’t see why I should.”

“Because I said so.”

“That doesn’t mea—”

Sylvia’s eyes opened wide as she found her lips captured by a familiar softness. It was only for an instant. But she was so ill-prepared for the sudden stimulation that the instant was enough to completely shut down her system.

“Told you.” Claire, on the other hand, was perfectly nonchalant. She immediately returned to munching on her skewer without missing a beat.

“T-that was just unfair!” cried the foxgirl.

“That’s the point.”

“I-I know, but still.” Sylvia placed her head down on the table and buried it in her arms. “You should warn me next time.”

“And I should also try to avoid mealtimes. Your breath tasted a little too fishy.”

“Oh, shush!” Red as a beet, the fox opened up a portal beside the lyrkress and lightly thwacked her with her tail. “Meanie.”

“I’m going to eat the rest of the fish if you don’t stop complaining.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Sylvia shot right back up and reached for the fishiest platter, only to find that everything was exactly where she left it. “...You tricked me again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Claire!!”

With similar bits of teasing continuing throughout, it took the pair a little over an hour to finally wrap up the evening meal and another hour to clean up. Normally, such a task would be left to the inn’s staff, but just like most everyone else in town, they were away from their duties and indulging in recreation. Perhaps they may have elected to return to work had they been aware of their guest’s return, but Claire couldn’t be bothered to put in any notice. It wasn’t like she couldn’t take care of herself.

At least so long as she didn’t have to cook, that is.

“Whew! Finally!” Sylvia stifled a yawn as she placed the last dish on the rack. “Do maids really do this manually all the time?”

“They do. And they do it with elegant poise.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“They don’t let the water splash onto their clothes while they’re scrubbing and they never perform any sudden movements. Everything is careful, measured, and rhythmic.”

“What the heck!? That’s super strict for literally no reason!”

“It’s not for no reason. They’re professionals. Keeping up appearances is important.”

“I’m pretty sure real professionals try to get things done as quickly as possible.”

Claire shook her head as she pushed her way out of the kitchen and led her fox down the hall. “Speed doesn’t matter as much. You can always just hire more maids. They’re basically just status symbols anyway.”

“Uhmmm…”

“Maids are expensive. Everyone knows that people with large gaggles have deep pockets.”

“I guess Cadrians just have way too many babies and nothing to do with them or something.”

“Cottontails, lamias, and thorae do,” said Claire. “But elves and centaurian subspecies don’t really have as many children at once.”

“If that’s the case, then how come most of the country isn’t just a bunch of rabbits, snakes, and bees?”

“Centaurs tend to live longer, both on and off the battlefield. Elves are more or less a minority. Most of them immigrate because Cadria doesn’t persecute them for their… beliefs.”

“Oh, no wonder we’ve been seeing so many of them,” said Sylvia. “Where are we headed anyway?”

“The baths.”

“Oh, okay!”

“Of course you would agree right away.” The lyrkress prodded the fox’s side with her tail. “Pervert.”

“Huh? Where the heck did that come from!?”

“I always knew Alfred raised you wrong.”

“Is it just me, or are you making fun of me more than usual today?”

“I’m just making up for lost time.”

“It wasn’t even that long!”

“I know what I said.”

Claire smiled as she opened a door and ushered her fox inside. The bathroom was split into two distinct sections. The piece closer to the door was almost styled like a public changeroom. There were three sinks in front of the mirror and a bunch of smaller, individual closets for people to place and hang their clothes.

The only thing that was missing was a place to change in private, not that Claire was particularly concerned. She removed her clothing in a heartbeat and threw the runecloak, which had been returned to its usual form, onto the counter by the giant mirror.

Sylvia threw off her own clothes just as quickly and dove into the bath, only to leap back up with a squeak.

“What the heck!? It’s freezing cold!”

“What were you expecting?” Claire laughed as she walked up to one of the knobs on the wall and gave it a solid twist. “You didn’t turn on the heater.”

“Is that how that works?”

“Did you think the bath would just heat itself?”

“No. Er, actually… maybe…?”

“Well it doesn’t.” Claire took Sylvia’s hand and led her back towards the water.

“Uhmmm… are you sure it’s warmed up already?”

“It’s fine. Stop fussing.” Claire pulled the fox into the water, which had instantly started to steam. “See?”

“That was kinda quick.”

“It’s an artifact,” said Claire. “It doesn’t exactly heat the water the normal way. It uses magic to set its temperature. Silly fox.” She pushed Sylvia in front of her and wrapped her arms around her stomach as they settled into the water. She made liberal use of her tail as well and coiled it around their intertwined legs, locking them in place.

“Uhmmm…”

“What?”

“This feels a bit awkward,” said Sylvia. “I’m taller, so I think we should probably switch.”

“That’s a fixable problem.”

Claire grew to her full size. She still fit in the tub, but she displaced a bunch of water at once and put the bathroom’s drainage system—another artifact that sucked up all of the water—to work. Her long, scaled body was coiled around the fox’s, positioning Sylvia as would a piece of prey. Though, of course, Claire was much gentler. She gave just enough slack for the serpentine embrace to feel more like a gentle hug than an attempt at strangulation.

Curiously, not even in the position they were in did her moose senses go off. Though already in the palm of her hand, Sylvia continued to be marked as unkillable. Not that she wanted to try.

“See? Problem solved.”

“This feels super weird,” said Sylvia. “The water is really warm, but your scales are kinda cool, so I feel hot and cold at the same.”

“You just have to complain about every little thing.” Claire rolled her eyes before turning back into a person.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” said Sylvia. “It was still nice, just weird nice.”

“Mhm. I’m sure it was.”

“Oh, come on… I already told you I didn’t mean it that way,” huffed the fox.

“I know. I was just messing wi—” Her words were briefly interrupted by a deformation of the lips. “With you. What was that for? Are you low on ultimate charges?”

“I did use a few while I was doing that one trial, but that’s not what that was for! I was trying to catch you off guard,” said a very flushed Sylvia. “How come it didn’t work? I literally did the same thing you did earlier!”

“I don’t see why it would,” said Claire. “Even if it did work, you’d be doing more damage to yourself than you are to me.”

“Huh? Why?”

Claire blinked. “You do realise we’re naked, right?”

Sylvia froze. Her face slowly ripened, turning redder and redder with every moment that passed.

“Stupid fox.” A giggle on her lips, Claire sank back into the bath and enjoyed the moment of peace.