Wyn took a deep gulp of the mead, letting the honeyed drink sit in his mouth a bit longer than usual. It was sweet and savory, a rare combination, like nothing he had experienced before. The small stall selling the mugs was quickly having people line up for more, and Wyn could see why. He paid the man behind the wooden counter and took his mug, making a mental note to bring it back in order to get a small refund. Not before getting another refill or two, of course.
The festival was about to kick off with the parade being the highlight of the evening. The markets and streets of Alestead had been busy all day, and after shopping for hours Wyn wanted to rest alone before he met back up with Tasha and John. He didn’t know if shopping in the busy crowds all day was worse than the tower or not, but he felt like it drained him more than fighting. He was used to his life being in danger and relying on his own merits, but going from store to store looking through endless amounts of things was another challenge entirely.
He had decided to experience some of the festival by himself to relax, wandering around the Alestead courtyards. Where it normally was outdoor training grounds and popular hangout spots - at least according to his map and information from Tasha - the open fields were now bustling with activities and a steadily growing large crowd. There were many stalls of food and items, events, and general things to do, and Wyn was enjoying simply walking around to take it all in. The crowd migrated from the streets and markets, hoping to end the night as the parade would snake its way through the festival and people alike. It was a fun way to enjoy the festivities and company, so he was told.
The fields had been transformed, with banners flying, jugglers juggling, and bards singing. There was merriment everywhere, with the chaos of the people cheering, laughing, or singing along to the different songs that played in different areas. Most people walked around with food or drink in hand, and children ran rampant with ribbons and toys.
The three rookies had decided to meet at the food court, a small area where tables were gathered and stalls sold all varieties of food and drink. Wyn was trying to scout out a good table spot early when his stomach growled, persuading him to find food and drink instead. That was when he noticed the stall selling the mead, and he wanted to try it.
He walked around the fields sipping his drink, enjoying himself. There was a small crowd around a series of games, where people could pay a small price to play. He settled on watching a young boy run up to an area with dozens of bottles lashed together, holding small rings in his hand. The boy then threw the rings at the bottles, trying to get a ring around a bottle neck. He threw and threw and threw, but after eight tries was unsuccessful.
A man, probably the boy’s father, walked up to the vendor and gave a few more coins. The woman gave out a handful more rings, and the man gave them to the boy. He instantly stopped crying and began laughing again, which made the father laugh, too. A woman then stepped beside them, dressed in combat gear with a sword sheathed on her waist. She put her arm around the boy’s father, and the two of them fondly watched their son play another round of the game, this time succeeding twice.
It was a funny contrast, watching a Climber dressed for combat interact with her civilian-dressed family. The more Wyn looked around, though, the more he realized this festival was also for the many Climber’s loved ones to join them. He assumed they would take the opportunity as family and friends to gather and celebrate what they’re doing, using the festival as a reminder of what they had and what they fought for.
It was heart warming, but also filled Wyn with a sense of anxiety. His own family was struggling, barely able to feed themselves and riddled with debt. He thought of his sister, how she had abandoned her life to help their father after their mom left. He thought of his father, his health ailing him after his family nearly fell apart, now relying on his children for his own mistakes and poor judgment.
Wyn took a long swig of his mead, or at least he tried. It was empty, and he had a strong urge to fill it.
Back at the mead stall he was dismayed to see a line wrapping around the far corner. He sadly knew he wouldn’t make it before they sold out. Instead, he opted to return the mug before looking for another source of drink.
Casually strolling back towards the food court, he saw Daniel and Wendy sitting at a table. They were smiling and laughing, giggling like they were children up to no good. Daniel had a mug in his hand and Wendy was eating an apple on a stick, and it was coated in something thick like syrup. It looked strangely delectable.
Daniel caught him staring and raised his mug to him, very subtly nodding his head in a greeting. Wyn waved but didn’t approach, wanting to be polite by saying hello but also not wanting to interrupt them. They seemed to be having a great time, and he didn’t want to spoil it.
Wyn suddenly had an arm around his neck. He jerked away in response, then relaxed when he saw it was John.
“Easy, man. It’s just me!” He pulled his hands back and held them up innocently, but was smiling his big, charming smile.
Wyn figured he could probably get away with most things based on that smile. He sighed in relief. “I’m sorry. I’m still jumpy, I guess.”
“You’re telling me. If anyone should be jumpy around here it should be me!”
Wyn took a deep breath. “You’re right. But man, this festival is busy. It’s almost as bad the city.”
John laughed. “Well, aren’t most festivals busy? At least there are fun things to do.”
“Yea, I guess, but I didn’t imagine it would be quite like this. I thought some Climbers and their families would be here but it seems like it’s much bigger than that. The rumors didn’t do it justice.”
“Oh, yea. Plenty of people come out to see them and to watch the parade. It’s wild - just wait!”
“I take it you’ve seen it before?”
“Dozens of times. When my family would climb, seeing friends who were climbing, when I wanted a vacation - any excuse I could make to come and see it I would.”
Wyn looked around at the varying kinds of people, again marveling at how everyone meshed together despite their different backgrounds. Here they weren't a noble or a peasant, they were either a visitor to see the magical tower or a Climber to challenge it. Wyn had never seen such a cultural phenomenon, and had a feeling this barely scratched the surface of the wonder of both the city and tower. It was a refreshing break from the power struggle he was more familiar with.
“It’s an entirely different world, here,” Wyn said. “I had no idea.”
John patted him on the back. “It’s definitely different. But it grows on you in the best way.”
John began walking away, heading to a table. Wyn followed him and saw that Tasha was sitting down with food and drinks already prepared.
“About time you showed up, Wyn! I was hoping we weren’t going to have to find you in this crowd,” Tasha said between a mouthful of food. She may have come from a noble house but she was eating like the poor soldiers who never had a full, hot plate.
“I don’t think we ever would’ve found each other,” Wyn said as he sat down at the table to eat. He grabbed a clean plate and began adding food to it. “But I’m glad we did.”
“I’ll drink to that,” John said, raising a mug.
Wyn grabbed a cup, filled it with water from the pitcher and toasted along with John and Tasha.
“No ale?” John asked.
Stolen novel; please report.
“I already had a mug of the mead, and it was incredible," Wyn said. "Anything else wouldn’t be as good.”
“Not to mention we have to get back to climbing tomorrow, right?” Tasha asked. “It is the new season, after all. We might as well hop to it!”
John sat his mug down after a long drink and stared at it. “I’ve given a lot of thought to that. You're right, of course. Though we haven’t talked about what our plan is.”
“What do you mean?” Tasha asked, cramming a chicken leg into her mouth.
“Well, we are here to climb," John continued. "But are we going to go just the three of us?”
Tasha put her now-cleaned chicken leg down and thought about it, licking her fingers clean. Wyn had already been thinking about it too, and now was the best time to bring it up.
“I think we should,” Wyn said. “At least for now.”
Tasha wiped her hands on a dinner napkin. “That’s risky. I doubt we’d make it very far. I mean, no offense, but look at how you, Marcy, and Cedric did last night.”
Wyn clenched his jaw, but reluctantly nodded his head, agreeing. “I know, I know. I could make excuses but you’re right. I just am having a hard time trusting anyone right now.”
They sat in silent agreement, leaving their dinner for the moment. Wyn was right, they all had a hard time trusting anyone - but Tasha was right, too.
“Why the long faces?” A voice said at the end of the table while a mug of ale slammed down. Foam sloshed out of it, and the three rookies looked to see who rudely interrupted them.
Marcy stood there, one hand on her hip, wearing a tipsy smile and rosy cheeks.
Tasha jumped up and hugged her without a word, spilling Marcy's drink. The mug flew out onto the grass beside them as the Ranger couldn't hold onto it well enough. John stood up, too, and hugged her when Tasha let go.
“Yea, yea, settle down, settle down,” Marcy said, her words slurring.
Wyn thought of Daniel and how drunk and depressed he was at the start of yesterday. He seemed to be wanting to sober up, though, to Wyn's delight. Marcy seemed to be going in the opposite direction, wanting to get drunk instead. Wyn understood her sentiment, though, as he likely would've kept drinking mug after mug of mead if John and Tasha hadn't found him first.
Wyn stood up and reached out his hand for a handshake. Marcy sized him up and firmly shook his hand before forcefully embracing him in a hug. She held him tight, squeezing him. He warmly hugged her back.
The four Climbers sat. After several awkward seconds of silence, Tasha was the one bold enough to ask what the others were thinking. “How’s Cedric?”
Marcy grabbed a cup and poured water from the pitcher. She drank it and made a sour face. “Water? That’s not what I want right now.”
“It’s probably what’s best right now,” John whispered to Wyn. Wyn kicked him under the table.
The rookies waited patiently for an answer. They didn’t know if they should push the subject, but they were desperately wanting to know. Their curiosity didn't eclipse their disrespect, though, and waited for her to respond when she was ready.
“He’s alive,” Marcy quickly said. “So there’s that.”
A collective sigh was let out at the table. Leave it to a drunk Climber to answer promptly.
Wyn smiled and closed his eyes. Cedric was alive, and his effort to save him paid off.
“But he lost his left arm. They can’t do anything about that.” Marcy ripped off a piece of chicken and ate it sloppily.
Tasha held a hand over her mouth. John looked away, finding it hard to look at Marcy’s face. Wyn knew he lost his arm. He remembered seeing it left behind, lying on the ground in the midst of the mushroom monsters who were still trying to kill them. What he didn’t know, though, was if the medics could do anything about it with their magical healing.
Apparently they couldn’t.
“Oh, and our group kicked us out.”
“WHAT?!” Collectively was shouted at the table, the young Climbers yelling in unison.
“Why?” “How!” Saying it out loud more than asking the question, they were baffled. Why in the hells would they do that?
“Cedric isn’t really useful without an arm, so they say. They voted to leave him behind.” Marcy banged her fist on the table, startling them. “I refused to do that. I will never leave anyone behind. So they kicked me out, too.”
“Marcy,” Tasha said softly, taking her hand into her own. “I’m so sorry. But hear me when I say this. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you and Cedric.”
“I feel the same way,” John said. This time he did look her in the eyes as his began to water. “I owe my life to Cedric. You, too.”
Marcy sniffled as she wiped away tears that began to roll down her cheeks.
Wyn just couldn’t believe it. They must’ve been a pretty pathetic group to simply cast away a member like that after something so horrible. But is that what Climbers do here? Are they so cutthroat to secure any advantage possible, that when a disadvantage rises they purge it right away?
A thought clicked inside Wyn that seemed to fall into place. It made sense, and was a perfect solution. “Marcy,” Wyn said. “We’re all thankful. Truly. And I have a proposal for you.”
“What is it?”
Wyn looked at Tasha and John, who both tearfully smiled back, knowing exactly what he wanted to ask.
“Would you want to join our group? And Cedric, too, of course, when he’s ready.”
Marcy stared at them, dumbfounded. Then she laughed. It was small and quick, like a chirp, but then she laughed harder and harder, nearly falling out of her seat.
Wyn had a look of concern cross his face, hoping he didn’t just insult her.
“I can’t believe it,” she said, wiping her hands on her shirt, smearing it with chicken grease. “A bunch of rookies wanting to pair up with a bum Wizard and an outcast Ranger.”
“It’s only fitting, considering I’m an outcast, too,” Wyn replied. “But we work well together. You know that personally.”
Marcy smiled. “I know. Yes, of course I will. Thank you for considering me.”
Marcy barely got the words out before Tasha yelled in excitement and reached across the table to grab her arms. John and Wyn both exhaled in relief.
“What’s the plan, then?” Marcy asked. “No offense, but I’m done being the responsible one for the time being. Don’t want that burden for this coming season.”
They all looked at each other and eventually their eyes settled on Wyn. He was wondering that very thing, but had a feeling he would be their leader until someone else wanted to take the role or he messed up bad enough for them to take over. For now, though, he relished the thought of leading a group of warriors into combat.
Wyn made a personal vow to not make the same mistakes he’d made before. This time would be different. They’d be successful and meet whatever goals they set.
He took a deep breath.
“Let’s figure it out tomorrow,” Wyn said. “We can meet at lunch to prepare to tackle the first floor the next day. No rushing this time.” He smiled, and genuinely felt happy.
They toasted in agreement and continued their meal as the night went on.
As a group, they made their way through the still-growing crowd to prepare for the parade. The people naturally separated into two sides, the middle being where the actual parade would take place. Everyone around seemed hopeful, joyous, and curious to see the actual display.
Wyn looked through the crowd at the people. He noticed some people were laughing and cheering, but some were serious or anxious. Several people, likely Climbers, had their weapons out and formally presented, like soldiers paying respects to officers passing by.
Or, which was likely the case here, respecting the memorial of a fallen ally.
Wyn remembered that the parade honored those that had fallen in the tower over the current season. He wondered how many precious Climbers had died, and how many more would die this coming cycle to the trials of the tower.
Interrupting his thoughts, the parade began with a pop of celebration as streamers of magic and toys began to fly through the air. The noise of the crowd instantly seemed to double. The parade itself was made up of various groups, some funny and some extravagant, all trying to entertain in different ways. All were succeeding based on the crowd reaction.
In the midst of some guild officials walking in the parade, waving and cheering back at the crowd, Wyn saw a strange figure on the other side of the crowd. The person was tall, robed, and wore a mask. Despite the flashing lights it wasn't easy to make out specific details, but the mask looked porcelain with a white blank face except for holes at the eyes.
Wyn's heart raced. It felt like the figure was looking right at him, unbothered by the crowd and parade.
Something felt strangely familiar but also foreign about the person, though a sinister emotion seemed to be pouring out of him. Wyn decided to act quickly, and he moved through the crowd, pushing people away but keeping an eye on the robed figure.
People called out in annoyance at being pushed away and interrupting the parade, but Wyn didn't care.
“Wyn?” John called out, but he was ignored.
The person was just on the other side of the parade, and Wyn knew he could get there quickly but he stopped his pursuit. He didn't want to make a scene and draw attention, and they stared at each other for only a second.
When a large, fake dragon passed by, actors underneath making it seem alive and roaring in the air, the crowd went wild. It blocked Wyn’s view, though, and he tried to move around it to see. In seconds the dragon passed by, and then the figure was gone.
“Wyn, what’s wrong?" John asked.
Wyn turned and saw his three teammates standing there, looks of confusion spread across their faces.
"I thought I saw something, but I guess not," Wyn said. "I’m sorry."
He tried laughing it off as a woman scolded him for blocking her view of the parade, and the others began laughing, too. Thankfully his friends didn't press him about it again, and he was grateful he didn't have to explain it further. He was sure he saw someone there, but he didn't want them to worry, especially if it was nothing.
The four Climbers continued their night, enjoying the parade and festivities in celebration before a new journey inside the tower began. It likely would be fraught with challenges both in the tower and out, but at least they would face them together.
As the parade finished and they began their walk back to their rooms, a lone figure in a porcelain mask watched them from afar. At their side was a familiar sword with an ornate hilt and sheath with gold trim, runes etched along the side. They tightened their grip on the weapon and widened their eyes under the mask, content on watching and waiting. For now.