The Eve of the Festival
The nights in Silverion are dark. I don't mean that in some profound, philosophical sense—like "the night is dark." I mean it literally. To light up a room in Edenia, you have to use candles. I’ve heard of devices called magic lamps, but they aren't exactly common. Magic in this world isn't something you can just throw around carelessly. Regardless, you need fire to light the night, and keeping that fire burning costs money—whether it’s candles or torches. On top of that, the flickering light is inconsistent, and the direction of the glow shifts in ways that make it a pain to use for long periods. I tried it once, and I could genuinely feel the strain building up in my eyes as time passed. So, the nights in Silverion are dark. And that meant the night sky was bright.
It was a sky I rarely saw back on Earth due to light pollution. Stars were densely packed, casting their light, and in one corner, they clustered together to form a river-like flow. On Earth, we called it the Milky Way. Since the English term comes from mythology, I wondered if there was a specific name for it in Edenia. There were so many stars that the sky didn't look pitch black; it looked almost hazy. Yet, despite the abundance of stars, my heart turned toward the one place that felt empty. The celestial body that should have been boasting the greatest presence in the sky was missing. Today was a new moon. A night without a moon. And tomorrow, a very thin crescent moon would rise. It was the day the festival welcoming autumn would be held in Cresville—the day we had decided to go see the festival.
We had to move early in the morning, but sleep wouldn't come. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I was wide awake, like a child excited for a field trip. Could I cover the sorrow of parting with memories? I wasn't sure. But for now, I figured I should just enjoy the present.
"Hazel, you’re going to have trouble waking up tomorrow if you keep this up."
"Yes. I’ll go to sleep now."
I closed the window. The wooden shutter creaked as it blocked out the night sky.
We gathered in front of the guild in the early dawn. Meredith had arrived early again, waiting for us. This time, I didn't bother trying to be clever by saying, "You’re here early?" No matter what you talk about, it always ends up with the clock in the Academy Square—the most accurate timepiece in all of Edenia. I’ve been on the receiving end of that lecture more than once, let me tell you.
Going to see a festival, but meeting at the guild? That’s what I thought at first, but after hearing the protagonist’s explanation, I was convinced. We were being dispatched to the festival on security duty! That way, we could save on travel expenses, see the festival, and earn money—it was a win-win situation from every angle. You’re the type of person who meticulously takes care of every little detail, aren't you? Honestly, I saw you in a new light.
We were only on duty until the evening, so the pay wasn't huge, but apparently, the real festival starts at night, so the pay for that time slot is higher. A just society. If you do work others don't want to do, you should get paid more.
Even though it was still dawn, there were quite a few people at the guild. A peculiar thing was that many adventurers were paired up, men and women together. They all looked like they were full of plans to play around, using security as an excuse. When I asked, "With only people like this, can public order be maintained?" Meredith replied, "Who would dare commit a crime in a place crawling with armed adventurers who just finished their shifts? The village calculated all of that when they issued the quest."
Wait, were we the ones being used as unpaid, potential security guards! It was a shock. This feeling of having witnessed the back-alley power struggles of a society I shouldn't have known about... what was this...
While I was lost in such thoughts, it was our turn. Come to think of it, this was my first time standing in front of the reception desk myself. This, too, is the romance of fantasy...
"So, you’re the ones who accepted the Cresville security mission. Let’s see... Adventurer Jun, and Academy student Meredith..."
The receptionist, wearing round-rimmed glasses, spoke while checking the qualification badges and documents back and forth. "The person next to you isn't on the list. If they were omitted, on-site registration is a bit..."
The receptionist clasped her hands together and shook them near her chest. It was the typical gesture for soothing a difficult customer. So that gesture is universal, huh.
"No, she’s a slave."
"Pardon?"
At the protagonist’s words, the receptionist’s body stiffened. "She’s my slave. I’m certain I registered for three people."
"Ah, a slave... this person... I apologize. I didn't think that would be the case."
Whispers began to ripple through the surroundings. *A slave... she’s smaller than my younger sibling... Oh my, that little child... Poor thing...*
Eyes gathered. Curious eyes. It was malice without malice. Meredith opened the front of her robe and tucked me inside. The warmth trapped within her loose clothing welcomed me.
Unlike last time, the carriage was packed tight with people. Shoving people into such a cramped space made it feel like there wasn't enough oxygen. It was suffocating. Among the adventurers boarding the carriage, there was a familiar face.
"Well, look who it is! If it isn't the little nun!"
A bald giant with a large scar on his jaw greeted me. He looked menacing, but I remembered him as a devout man who often participated in regular prayer sessions. "Oh, hello."
From the side, I heard Meredith mutter to herself, "Little nun?" Ah, another layer of my dark past was being revealed to the world.
"I heard the temple was closing for a while after the nun left, so I was worried about where you’d gone, but here you are. Are you going to Cresville to see the festival?"
"Yes. To save on travel costs and see the sights."
"Haha! How clever of you!"
It was a boisterous laugh. Seeing the surrounding adventurers not feeling uncomfortable and joining in, I wondered if he was someone famous in the adventurer world. Just then, another adventurer sitting nearby whispered something to him. *'That kid is a slave. That slave, the man sitting next to her.'* It was a small voice, but because the distance was close, I heard it clearly.
The giant’s brow furrowed. His mouth pushed out, and wrinkles formed on his chin. Yet, he stroked his chin with his hand, looking like he was deep in thought. After scanning the protagonist a few times, the giant spoke up. "Hey, what’s your name?"
"Jun."
The protagonist replied with a stiff expression, perhaps feeling a bit tense himself.
"How long have you been with the little nun?"
"We knew each other before I left her at the temple."
"Ho."
The giant, looking impressed, turned his head and asked me, "The nun isn't here, aren't you lonely?" The nun—he must mean Ameryel.
"No, I have my family."
I said that and gripped the protagonist’s sleeve tightly.
"Haha! Family! I see! Hey, brother, I’m Baikin."
He extended a hand the size of a pot lid toward the protagonist. The protagonist didn't refuse and shook it lightly. "Take good care of the nun, and if you ever have a hard time, look for me. If you ask around the guild, someone will know where I am."
"It’s an honor."
"Honor, shmonor. Just serve her well."
Baikin then crossed his arms and leaned against the carriage wall to catch some sleep. He was a true hero. "Hazel, what’s this about being a 'little nun'?" Meredith immediately started asking persistently. I had no choice but to tell her about the time I spent at the temple. The conversation continued even after the carriage departed. It wasn't until the carriage arrived in Cresville that I realized Baikin and the protagonist had avoided using the word "slave" and had spoken around it.
Cresville wasn't the compact size that usually comes to mind when you think of a village. It looked several times larger than I had imagined. No wonder the scenery outside had changed to wheat fields a long time ago, yet it hadn't changed much since. They said the village was tucked snugly into the embrace of a large river that curved in the shape of a crescent moon. While the area itself was wide, it seemed to have remained a quiet farming village because the massive city of Silverion was right nearby. Since you could go to Silverion and back within a day and still have half a day left, they didn't seem to feel much inconvenience. Young people with ambitions other than farming headed to Silverion, so the village had no choice but to stay at this level.
The buildings in the village were at most three stories tall, giving it a strong pastoral feel. Among them, there were things that caught the eye: windmills and waterwheels. I had already seen waterwheels in Silverion, so the impact was less, but I was looking forward to seeing how big the windmills were up close, even though I was looking at them from afar. However, setting all those things aside, there was one place my gaze was drawn to. It was a tall wooden tower erected in an empty field that had finished its early harvest. The tower was made by stacking twigs. It wasn't neatly processed wood, but rather had the leaves still attached, making it look like a giant Christmas tree. This must be the star of the festival. I was looking forward to the night.
Security duty wasn't difficult. Perhaps out of consideration from the organizers, they had gathered the female adventurers in a place where people wouldn't even walk, so there was nothing to do but chat. It was difficult, if anything, dealing with the adventurers who kept trying to talk to me for no reason. I had slipped away to the meeting spot first, waiting for Meredith, who was in the middle of handing over her duties, and the protagonist, who I didn't know where he had been dragged off to. Since female adventurers would talk to me every time they saw me, I ran away quickly.
I was enjoying the atmosphere, slightly away from the crowd. That was when a child popped out from the crowd and bumped into me. Both the child and I lost our balance and rolled on the ground.
"S-sorry..."
The other party offered an apology first. I brushed off the dust and looked at the person. It was a wolf beastkin with light gray hair. Their hair was messy, sticking out in all directions, and there was a scar cutting across their left eye. The voice was also somewhat familiar. The other person also looked surprised when our eyes met. And slowly, their face twisted. It was the leader of the group that had tormented me in that cramped cage.