Edge Cases - 150 - Book 3: Chapter 15: Festival

It was remarkable, the degree to which the town of Mundane changed.

For one day and one day only, the shadows didn’t have to worry about keeping the town as plain and simple as possible; they could decorate and rearrange as much as they wished, and they seemed to take the opportunity to really let loose with their creativity. It almost made Sev a little sad to look at it. He wondered if this was the town they would build, if they had the opportunity. Maybe if they fixed whatever was wrong with reality…

Except you don’t know how to do that, a small voice whispered to him. And this entire reality is just an echo, isn’t it? They’re going to be gone once the bonus room ends.

Sev tried to ignore that voice. His past self had a plan. That much had to be true. Why else would his instincts be nudging him in all these distinct directions?

Instead, he tried to focus on what the citizens of Mundane had done to spruce up their town.

The observatory was, quite literally, inside-out. The expanse of stars floated in a projected dome around the building, a little less majestic than being within the building, but nevertheless a sight to behold. Constellations danced in the air, and Sev saw no small number of shadow elementals gathering near the observatory just to watch; he remembered what Belle had said before, about how it would be entirely crowded if they left it open to the public.

She hadn’t been lying — the throng of people gathered outside the observatory, both from Mundane and otherwise, was immense. But it was far from the only place people gathered.

The only festival Sev had been to in recent memory, if it could be called a festival at all, was the celebration that Misa’s parents had held in J’rokksur what felt like a year ago, though in practice it had only been a few months. That had been a small celebration, full of good food and good music and awkward dancing.

This was… different. There was an undertone of familiarity to it that Sev had come to associate with his own lost memories; he could only assume that he’d been to similar festivals back on Earth, though he could hardly remember what they were.

It wasn’t just the observatory that was decorated like this. The clothing store had a fantastical display just outside, where enchanted mannequins wore extravagant dresses and tailored suits and danced with impossible fluidity.

The bakery had its doors wide open, and the rich smell of freshly baked bread wafted out of it; just outside the door was an immense shelf that looked like it had been baked from bread, a baffling ode to the structural integrity of bread that Sev wasn’t entirely sure was actually accurate.

…Now that he looked more closely, he was fairly certain that that particular shadow had transformed her entire building into bread.

Which made Sev mildly uncomfortable for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. But it was cool.

Their chosen haunt — the Horizon cafe — had similarly thrown its doors wide open, allowing the rich smell of coffee to pervade the air just around it; unlike the bakery, there was no real display of their goods. Instead, the staff there had put out a number of tables and chairs for people to sit in and enjoy the atmosphere whenever they needed a break. It wasn’t the busiest place in the festival, but there were always people there, either stopping by to chat, to grab a snack, or to sit and watch the festival for a while.

It wasn’t just Mundane that had shows and displays up, either. Combat was here, too, and they had their own displays set up all over town — though the flavors of their shows were certainly very different. There were at least three wizards showing off feats of destructive magic, cast at a small scale so as to not destroy the entire town. One part of town flickered with forked lightning every few minutes, blasting apart the reflective panes in the sky; another had a heatless whirlwind of fire twirling through the crowd in a remarkable display of control and efficiency; still another was using earth magic to build complicated structures, in a rare example of combat magic turned to art.

That last one was the one that captured Vex’s attention the most, and the whole party had to stop for a few minutes while the lizard stood and gawked. Basalt — the wizard’s name, rather appropriately — had a series of small buildings set up next to one another. He would use his magic to fire a shot of earth at the largest one, and it would collapse in a way that built on the building just next to it, adding on to the detail and finesse rather than causing it to collapse as well.

Somehow the gargoyles, hanging off the sides in the first building, would land perfectly intact on the second, balanced all around the roof so that it looks like they were watching over it. By the third, they were crushed, but the stone cracked and broke in a distinct pattern, held in place by minute gaps and holes in the structure of the building…

And so on. That was just one detail out of a dozen, and Sev didn’t manage to catch most of them; even Vex, rapidly taking notes in his notebook, didn’t seem to capture them all. Basalt seemed to notice the little lizard, though, and grinned all the wider. The next couple of demolitions were just a little bit flashier, too, with sparks and flashes of light incorporated into the whole thing.

Sev thought Basalt was probably cheating, but Vex didn’t seem to think so, and he didn’t want to ruin it for his friend, anyway.

They did have to leave the demonstration eventually; they had to be present for the Glyph unveiling, and Vex had his own little demonstration of magic that he’d prepared. He’d asked a couple of times why they wanted him to give a presentation, and the answer each time was simple — he was from outside their culture, partaking in it, and they wanted to learn about how his interpretation of magic changed how it behaved. It was what they did with every newcomer they taught magic, even if Vex hadn’t been personally taught by them.

He’d very nervously agreed, and then shut himself in his room to practice, not allowing any of them to see what he’d prepared.

Sev was kind of excited, really. He was excited for the Glyph unveiling, too — Derivan hadn’t really explained much about what the Glyph did, even though he’d had the time to experiment and understand it fully by now.

It’d be a nice distraction from his own troubles.

“Okay. Um,” Vex said. He stood on his toes, wringing his hands together and looking nervous; he took a trembling breath, and Sev saw the way he glanced at Derivan, at the look that passed between them. Just that look and Vex’s trembling seemed to settle, and his breathing steadied. He gave them all a small smile. “I gotta go get ready for my presentation.”

“You’re gonna be fuckin’ great,” Misa said, giving him a thumbs up. “Give ’em hell.”

“I mean, that’s not exactly what I’m going for,” Vex said, laughing.

“Not literally, obviously.” Misa rolled her eyes at Vex’s bright grin, but couldn’t help smiling back. “You know what I meant.”

“Break a leg!” Sev said, and then when Vex looked at him, hurriedly added, “It’s a planeshifted saying!”

Vex snickered, then sobered up a bit. “Thanks, guys,” he said. “It feels… kinda weird to be doing all this? When the stakes are so high?”

“We’re going to need a break sometime, and a time-dilated bonus room is basically the best time to do it,” Sev said with a shrug. Misa nodded in agreement.

“Good luck,” Derivan said to Vex. His tone of voice was softer, more personal than when he spoke to the other two. Sev had seen the way he’d changed now whenever he spoke to Vex, even if it was a minor, barely noticeable thing. It still made him smile. “I look forward to your show.”

“I look forward to yours!” Vex grinned up at him and bounced up to peck him on the helmet, then disappeared behind the ‘stage’ that had been set up. Sev blinked a few times.

His friends had changed a lot, hadn’t they?

Vex wasn’t nearly as nervous as he had been a few months ago, when every little thing made him jump. It wasn’t his relationship with Derivan that had changed him, either, though it certainly seemed to help that they had each other. It was the confidence he had gained in his magic, the few messages he’d sent back and forth with members of his family.

Sev looked at him and saw a spark that wasn’t fear about what would happen to his brother, but determination to protect him. It made his heart glow — it made him feel like a great wrong had been righted.

Misa was alive. She’d been depressed for a few days after their defeat, but she’d bounced back with more attitude than ever. Sev was pretty sure she’d actually started putting on more muscle.

“Like what you see?” Misa grinned at him, flexing an arm, and Sev rolled his eyes.

“You’re very pretty, but no thank you,” he said politely.

Misa smirked at him. “Belle and her husbands are pretty into it.”

“…What?”

“I’ll see you later! Looking forward to Vex’s show!” Misa was, somehow, already leaving, heading straight towards one of the other Combat displays — she seemed eager to participate in a duel, against an arrogant-looking man that was looking for challengers. Sev stared after her, and Derivan just tilted his head at him in turn.

“Are you surprised?”

“I— No?” Sev managed. “Yes, but also, somehow no.”

Derivan chuckled. “Vex’s show will start in the evening, and mine will be at the Glyph revelation in the evening,” he said. “Would you like to explore on your own, or would you like to perhaps explore together? We do not speak alone often — I would like a moment with you, if you do not mind.”

“Oh,” Sev said, surprised. He didn’t know why he hadn’t expected that from Derivan — he’d somehow gotten used to fading into the background, for all that he was ostensibly their leader.

Derivan had changed a lot, too, though his changes weren’t nearly as obvious as Misa’s or Vex’s. He seemed to understand himself more, for lack of a better word — and he understood them more in turn. Always kind, always open; he knew exactly what to say most of the time to calm a person, or to get through to them.

Sev wondered, though, if the armor had found what he wanted for himself yet.

Derivan was still waiting for a response. Sev blinked a few times, then nodded, managing an awkward smile. “I’d like that,” he said.

They walked in silence for a while. The noise of the festival faded around them, and for a moment, Sev felt like he was left alone with his thoughts, for all that Derivan was walking next to him.

It was a quiet peace he hadn’t known he needed. It was companionable silence between him and a close friend, undisturbed by the world.

Eventually, though, he broke the silence. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?” he asked. “It sounded like you had something in mind.”

“Not in particular.” Derivan chuckled, the sound resonant in his armor. He slowed down slightly as he spoke, taking a moment to absorb the sights — they had just so happened to stop near the observatory, where the stars still flickered in the sky.

He watched in silence for a moment, and Sev felt compelled to join him.

The stars spun. One burst into fragments of color, likely an exaggeration for the display; it still brought forth gasps of shock and awe and joy from the crowd around them, muted though the sound was.

“Are you the one doing that?” Sev felt compelled to ask.

Derivan inclined his head. “The sound dampening?”

“Yeah.”

“It is an application of Shift,” Derivan said.

“Pretty useful, that.”

“Quite.” Derivan hummed. “I acquired Shift from Histre, when they planeshifted back to the divine plane, after that battle with Jerome… Do you suppose he is doing well?”

“Jerome?” Sev tilted his head. “I hope so. Last I saw him, he was trying. Maybe it’s worth checking in on him sometime, just to see how he’s doing.”

“I can accomplish that, now,” Derivan said.

“Can’t do that again unless necessary,” Sev said, shaking his head. “It’s going to be necessary again soon. We have a huge advantage helping with everything that’s happening out there as long as we’re in here, but…”

“But the use of Shift to access the world outside destabilizes this echo of reality,” Derivan completed the thought. “The more we learn, the more limited our options seem.”

“Do you feel like there isn’t hope?” Sev asked.

He felt that way sometimes, in the privacy of his own mind. He didn’t know if any of the others felt the same way. The universe had ended, and neither the gods nor the system nor the embodiment of all magic could fix it.

What hope did they have? They were just four people. A few more, perhaps, with their allies and the Guild, but…

“No,” Derivan answered, surprisingly easily. Sev looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not?” he asked, and Derivan paused for a moment to consider the question.

Another silence stretched, long. This time, the silence seemed oppressive; Sev felt his thoughts crowding in.

“I suppose I hope because I must,” Derivan mused. “If I did not, I would not be compelled to act; it would be self-fulfilling. And so I must believe that the world can be brighter than it is, that every spark I contribute to the flame of civilization helps. Because the good outcome — the outcome in which the world is fair and kind — can never exist if no one believes in it.”

“But the world isn’t going to be fair and kind,” Sev said. He felt once again almost familiar with this, like this was a conversation he’d had before. The sensation of floating underwater and a strange, sick feeling of claustrophobia clung to him. “By sheer stochastic probability.”

“That is true.” Derivan inclined his head, smiling slightly; Sev couldn’t understand why he was smiling. “But it will be kinder than it would be otherwise.

“That, I think, is sufficient.”