When the sun had hidden half of its body below the horizon, I arrived at the same inn where I had stayed when Fikar and I came to Carcathia to help with the harvest. Tussa-san glared at us, then turned around and left with a huff.
What’s up with that? What don’t you like this time? Is it that Fikar is carrying my bags? Or is it because Anemone-chan is running around with her head, or rather, her flower held high?
As I began to wonder if Tussa-san’s grumpy face was really just her default expression, I walked up to the reception counter, where the sharp-nosed innkeeper was tidying her papers.
“It’s quite late. Heat up the leftovers from dinner yourself. Your room is the same as last time.”
“Thank you very much, we’ll be in your care.”
I told Fikar that I would prepare dinner while he took our luggage to the room, but when I arrived at the dining area, a dark-colored stew was already being heated. There was bread too, sliced and laid out on a tray, but there was no one in sight.
In this world, people might call something like this the work of fairies. Unfortunately, the only fairies I knew of were too busy stalking people with their distasteful mushrooms. Then maybe it was Tussa-san who prepared all of this?
“She’s a demon when it comes to marriage hunting, but she really is a kind person…”
“I hope Tussa-san finds a husband soon,” I told Fikar as we sat down to eat.
The stew, with meat that tasted like a cross between chicken and fish, was so rich that I had to give half of my bread to Fikar. He, on the other hand, seemed to object to my success in losing weight and tried to feed me meat and sweets at every chance, but I resisted the temptation.
How can a person whose body doesn’t change no matter how little or how much they eat understand the pains of dieting?
The next morning, preparations for the evening festival were already in full swing by the time we showed up at the central plaza. Stalls were being erected and participants were meeting to discuss this and that. Carcathia’s town square, which was somewhat larger than Tortea’s, would soon have two circles of stalls, one close to the plaza perimeter facing outward and a slightly smaller one on the inside facing inward. That said, they were more like dashed circles since gaps were left between islands of stalls so that people could walk any which way they liked.
At the center, an altar and a stage had already been built, and the nearby empty space was where people would stand and watch. There were also a few three-story buildings, which were scarce in Tortea, and locals could also watch from the upper floors. Even now, small crowds formed and dissipated as locals walking by stopped to watch everyone’s progress.
“You’re late! Come on, Fikar, let me explain the steps of the ritual.”
When we walked up to the altar, Tussa-san was already waiting for us, her irritation on full display. She was dressed up for the rehearsal, letting her long, emerald-green hair cascade down over her pale, fluttery dress, and she was as beautiful as a goddess. A grumpy goddess, though.
I let out a heavy sigh as the 7:3-part-organizer-san and Tussa-san explained everything to Fikar. No amount of dieting could shake the unease I felt when standing next to this goddess. The fact that we were wearing nearly identical outfits made the difference painfully obvious.
Still, for the ceremony, my role as the sorceress required me to stand face-to-face with Tussa-san in order to receive the Star Stone’s blessing.
The evening festival would kick off with offerings to the Star Stone, followed by prayers of gratitude for the prosperity and fortunes of the past year. Then, further thanks are expressed for the coming year and blessings are conferred by the Star Stone. That night, two Star Stones would be present, temporarily loaned from their altars in the Tortean and Carcathian guild branches, and their new altar would be the site of the rest of the complicated ritual: offer a young branch to Saint Totu, burn incense, read the offerings, recite arcane prayers, and so on.
Tussa-san was in charge of reading the offerings and blessings and Fikar was tasked with the more complicated bits of the offering procedure, which was fortunate for him since he wasn’t the talkative type.
I quickly grew bored as I stood idly and waited for the ritual rehearsal to begin. The altar was eventually moved onto the stage with us, sitting on one side of the stage and leaving the rest for us to dance on unimpeded. The venue was steadily transforming into a lively and festive place, and from atop this raised platform at the center of it all, it felt terribly big.
The buzz of the crowd reached my ears from all directions, spreading evenly through the vast open space. I felt very uncomfortable, perhaps because this was the first time I’d seen such a big crowd ever since coming to this new world. I felt a great unease wash over me, as if I wanted to run away to a less crowded place asap.
Back when I was just a high school student, I didn’t use to feel uncomfortable in crowded places – I used to like them. And it’s not like my high school days were forever and a day ago, but I’d grown accustomed to my laid-back life in Tortea.
I felt a little intimidated by all the noise and my position above it all, and when I took a step back, I bumped into Fikar’s back.
Fikar, holding Saint Totu’s branch, turned around and cocked his head. His deep blue eyes were serene as usual, and just staring into them somehow calmed me down.
Not all of them are strangers. Fikar is here.
“Hey! What are you doing staring at each other?! Review the steps and practice your performance!”
Tussa-san’s wrath thundered and I bolted upright in a hurry. Fikar patted my head, and the thin leaves of Saint Totu’s branch rustled overhead. I wondered if Anemone-chan, who was staying behind at the inn, was behaving properly, and I finally felt my usual comfort return.
Fikar ran through his part of the ceremony once more, and I traced the choreography in my head. Time left until the evening festival: two days.