In which Fred Maximillian and Clive attend the Budehuc spring festival and overhear an unfortunate conversation.
The contents of this chapter are loosely based off a post made April 2nd, 2005.
Taking a small holiday hiatus and will be posting again in January.
"Dammit, I should've listened to Cecile."
Clive sat with a scowl at the snack booth, his gun propped against the bench. He looked out of place in his cloak amidst the other residents dressed in their festival robes. The gunner peered into his wallet and grumbled to himself before tucking it back into his cloak.
Fred Maximillian offered a good-natured chuckle as he adjusted the obi belt of his own yukata. The sight of Clive sulking in black amidst a sea of festival-goers in colorful garb was like watching someone willingly trudging off to a funeral procession rather than participating in an occasion for merriment. But if Clive's sour expression and empty coin purse were any indication... his accuracy in his marksmanship was unmatched, but that obviously didn't extend to the festival races.
"Is this about the dog races, Sir Clive?" Fred asked.
"How'd you guess? The dog I bet my potch on didn't even make it across the starting line…"
"Ah, that would be… Connie, I believe?" the Maximillian Knight reached across the booth and handed Clive another skewered sweet. "Lady Cecile did mention she wasn't looking like herself lately, the poor pup…"
"Yeah, well, I should've bet on the other one," Clive ripped into the doughy desert and sighed again. "How's business here going?"
"Fantastic! This is my first time manning a festival booth," Fred said with a grin. The Budehuc courtyard was bustling with activity as residents milled about from stall to stall, sampling sweets and participating in games. Admittedly the turnout wasn't as high as during wartime, but with the steady uptick in new arrivals, Fred found himself pleasantly surprised by how much business he was conducting.
A proud assortment of skewered sweets in pastel hues were displayed in tidy row at the front of his booth, the treats courtesy of Mamie's baking. Each sale contributed towards much-needed repairs to the castle's crumbling perimeter walls, and stronger walls meant boosted defense. Just because it was peacetime didn't mean they could let their guard down. It was exactly the sort of endeavor Fred was keen to support. How could he not?
The duty of a Maximillian Knight is about more than just ridding the world of evil… it is also our calling to bring good into this world as well. And what better way than to bring joy through community service?
Fred smiled to himself. Yes, this must be precisely why he felt drawn to Budehuc after all the time spent away. A Maximillian always knew when there were people in need and couldn't help but seek out wherever they may best put their talents to work. What better need was there than to assist his former comrades in fortifying their home? And if another battle ever did reach Budehuc's doorstep once more, they'd be protected… partly in thanks to his own contributions, of course.
"I guess," Clive shrugged and took another bite from his skewer. "At least Cecile was enjoying herself, and the potch goes towards a decent cause. Too bad you weren't able to participate from your booth."
"That's quite all right, Sir Clive!" Fred said. "Provided I am doing some good, that is all I ask for! I am grateful Master Thomas assigned me this spot. I have a clear view of all the festivities from here…"
Fred trailed off as his eyes wandered. Standing only a few paces away was Yun, dressed in a deep green yukata and directing festival-goers with a smile as gentle as the evening breeze fluttering through her hair. She almost seemed to glow with an otherworldly presence. He suddenly found himself sticking one too many sweets on his next skewer and fumbled to realign the display.
"Heh," Clive grinned. Nothing seemed to escape the marksman's notice. "Real subtle."
"I...I beg your pardon?"
"Just warning you, she's not worth your time."
"Wh-what? I assure you—"
"Save it," Clive waved dismissively and polished off the rest of his pastry, "Cecile said the shaman is dating Luca Blight, of all people. I thought it was a joke, but…" he snapped the skewer in half and glowered.
The light, jubilant sensation that had only moments earlier filled Fred with weightless joy instantly evaporated. "Ah… yes, I recall him," Fred swallowed. How could he forget their encounter back in February? Although every fiber of his Maximillian heart was screaming out to vanquish evil, Yun's attachment to Luca was a bewildering development that left Fred feeling powerless to intervene. It didn't help that the man bore the same name as the very villain from the stories his grandfather often recounted.
In fact… I daresay he is probably the same man. How many Luca Blights can there possibly be?
He slowly exhaled, partly to calm his nerves but mostly to avoid losing composure in Clive's company. Somewhere underneath the bravado, Fred couldn't deny his grandfather's stories surrounding the Dunan Unification War were possibly even more grim than the old man let on. It was easy to imagine his grandfather bravely leading a charge into battle. But even old Maximillian himself struggled to recount some of the atrocities. Fred knew his grandfather joined the war effort after Luca Blight was defeated, yet his tales of the Highland prince's campaign of terror across the city-states and the desolation of Muse were always recounted with solemnity.
If Luca Blight was alive and well, Budehuc's walls would need more than reinforcements. And the Highland prince seemed very alive and very well, even if he was also very much in jail for the time being. So then why—
Yun turned and caught his eye from across the courtyard. She smiled and offered a little wave. Something lurched in his stomach at the sight. He half-raised a hand, still holding a skewer, but her attention was already elsewhere as she glided across the festival grounds, ushering participants to a nearby fishing game.
Lady Yun is a gentle soul… she must see something in the man I cannot see for myself.
Everything about Luca Blight set Fred's nerves on edge, but if a shaman of the Alma Kinan deemed him worthy...
A loud clatter from the adjacent booth startled Fred out of his thoughts. He craned his neck, peering past the corner of the stall.
"I-I don't understand… why?"
Fred knew the voice before even setting eyes on the spectacle. An empty, upturned basket laid at the feet of Budehuc's castle master, but the young man's attention was transfixed on the figure standing opposite him. Thomas wrung his hands, his face pale and panicked. Unlike the other festival-goers, he was still dressed in his standard clothes, his rust-colored jacket slung over his shoulder.
"Look, Thomas… I'm sorry. But I think it's for the best."
The second voice was vaguely familiar… Fred didn't like to eavesdrop, but—
"Hn." Clive apparently had no qualms eavesdropping and was already pulling his cloak over his head.
S-Sir Clive!? So brazen… but if I simply happen to accidentally overhear...it can't be helped, right?
"Kinnison… I… I think I deserve a better answer than that."
The young archer stood opposite Thomas dressed in his hunting gear with his bow slung across his back, Shiro patiently waiting at his side. The wolf sniffed the air, no doubt enjoying all the scents of the festival. Kinnison placed his hand on Thomas's shoulder and offered a small smile. "It was a lot of fun, but I just don't think we're suited for each other. And I can't stay here… I need to get moving again. There's something I have to do."
"S… something you have to do?"
"Yes. I need to return to the forest. There's something amiss, something I can feel," Kinnison's hold on Thomas's shoulder tightened. "Shiro feels it too. And I need to find out if it has to do with how I arrived here in the first place."
Ah, that's right. Sir Kinnison is among the transported.
Another wave of guilt washed over Fred as he watched Thomas's nervous fidgeting. This was clearly not a conversation he was meant to hear. And even worse, Fred couldn't help but agree with Kinnison. He had no qualms with the archer's residence at Budehuc, but if there was a way to solve the mysteries surrounding the new arrivals, that meant…
If he can find the answers for himself, maybe those same answers will extend to Luca Blight as well.
"T-then can't you just stay here and search for the answers? I mean, it would make the most sense!"
"I've tried, Thomas. Really, I have. I still have no idea how Viki sent me here or why. I need to broaden my search, and the forest… well, we aren't usually away from the forest this long anyways."
"I can come with you! I promise not to be a burden…"
"It's not about that. Your place is here, Thomas. I've heard how you talk about the people here. This is your calling in life. Don't let me take that away from you."
"Kinnison… But…"
"I've been selfish, I guess. My problems… they're my own. It's not right to keep getting other people involved."
Fred and Clive exchanged glances. The corner of the gunner's mouth twitched.
This is…
"Do you have to go?"
Kinnison nodded. "It's unusual for us to stay put for very long anyways, and… I don't think Viki is going to send Shiro and I back home any time soon."
"I just… I don't understand," Thomas mumbled, his hands folded.
"I had a lot of fun here. With everyone. With you. But I need to go, I'm sorry."
...a goodbye.
Thomas lowered his head, then silently crouched to retrieve the fallen basket as Kinnison withdrew his hand.
"You have a lot to live for, Thomas. Cherish the people around you and enjoy every moment. And… you really should read Cecile's letters," the archer added and offered one last gentle smile.
Thomas turned around and walked away with the basket in hand. Kinnison leaned over and gave Shiro a quiet pat, then set off in the opposite direction. Their somber departure painted a starkly different scene compared to the joyous sounds of the festival surrounding them.
Oh dear...
"Well." Clive spun back around on his bench and set the broken pieces of his skewer atop the snack booth. "Guess that's over with."
"S-Sir Clive, how can you be so casual!? Poor Master Thomas… I feel guilty witnessing such a vulnerable moment."
"Rejection is part of growing up," the gunner shrugged and removed his hood. "They weren't suited for each other anyways."
"How can you be so sure?"
"If it's any consolation, Fred, I can guarantee that Yun and Luca aren't suited for each other either."
The Maximillian Knight swallowed and tried to stifle the heat rising to his face. "I-I don't see how that's even remotely related. Besides, we shouldn't be prying into the private lives of others!"
"Didn't stop you from listening in, did it?"
Urk. Of course Sir Clive hits his mark.