The Tempestive Kind of Festive

Watching the sky turn orange put Zaida on edge. "Can we hurry a little?" she requested with a note of desperation. "My date instructed me to pick them up at sundown."

"Instructed?" Edie echoed, bewildered. "Who are you taking out that 'instructed' you to follow a schedule?"

"Pay that no mind, Edie," Sergei advised. "Some people are just more open about pleasing their doms." He spoke flatly but Edie snickered at the remark.

Zaida was too troubled for the dig to affect her. She had not yet arrived at a solution regarding her logistic blunder. Dvorah had stated - not asked - that she meet her and sundown and walk her to the Festival grounds. Eposi and Marisol had only spoken of meeting at the event itself, which afforded Zaida some breathing room, but that was where the road ended in her mind. She could not conceive an arrangement in which she properly tended to each of the women all in one evening.

As they passed the Overgrowth Green, things went from eventful to crowded. The lively streets of Merridian were very nearly choked with commoners excited to begin the Festival. There was much to see, with some dressed in what were presumably the most garish outfits they owned, and others adorned in ways that suggested they were performers fresh out of an adult club.

"Fucking damn it!"

The exclamation captured the attention of all close enough to hear it over the clamour. Of all people, Cole was the cause of the disturbance. Migdalia was with him, the two of them facing Zaida, Edie, and Sergei. Cole had Zaida fixed with a very displeased expression. Upon seeing their confused and concerned response, he and Migdalia drew near enough to speak to the other knights.

"What's got your tits twisted?" Edie asked.

"I put down two-weeks pay against Sergei that you'd choose a tunic and pants instead of a gown," he jabbed an accusing finger at Zaida, as if she had betrayed him. "I was so bloody confident, and here you come along looking to loose me my coin." Cole shook his head. "I can already picture that tiny, smug smirk on Sergei's face when he comes to collect."

"What are you talking about? He's right here..." Zaida turned to find the man in question had vanished entirely. She lifted her gaze, scanning the milling crowd for him to no avail.

"Oh!" Cole exclaimed once again. "If he's not here, then there's still time! Quick, go change. Please? I'll swap with you if I have to."

"Give it a rest already," Migdalia insisted, tugging on the other knight. "Just have some integrity and make good on your bet, will you?"

It was then that Zaida noticed the way she and Cole had their arms linked like partners. "I didn't know you two were together."

"Oh, we're not," Cole corrected her. "We came as friends tonight."

"What?! You didn't tell me that!" Migdalia blurted out, looking quite unhappy at her not-date. "What the hell? Why'd you ask me then? I could have come with someone who did want a romantic date!"

"You can come as friends?" Zaida asked in a voice too small to register with the others. She thought her head might explode.

"I was looking to play the desired man," Cole said coolly, as if he were explaining some intuitive aspect of the natural world. "I've got my eyes on someone else, and I was going to make a whole thing out of leaving my date to swoop in when theirs inevitably falls through. Oh, how special I feel - to be so desired by that strapping buck of a man, Cole - that he would abandon his own date to spare me the devastation of being dumped by mine," he said in what could only be an impression of the heart he was purportedly after.

The others all looked amongst each other.

"The person you actually wanted to go to the Festival with already has a date, and you brought me along as a prop for your own drama?" Migdalia asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"You. Suck." She poked a stern finger into his collar. "Only you could have created a situation in which we're both cucks. Where am I going to find a real date now? Edie, come on."

"Nope, I'm taken." The curly haired woman rocked on heels and toes with a self-satisfied quality.

"Zaida?" Migdalia tried again.

"I'm already committed."

"Damn," she cursed. "Where'd Sergei get off to?" With that, she waded into the crowd, quickly swallowed by plethora of townsfolk in better moods than her.

"Not ideal, but I can still work with it," Cole stated. "Ladies, have a fun and safe evening. Oh! Before I forget: Zaida, new uniforms came in. Claim yours at the mess before they move it to the store house. Alright, be seeing you!" He too disappeared among the pedestrians.

"Should I be worried about those two?" Zaida asked Edie.

"No, not at all," she answered dismissively. "It would have been less characteristic of them to stick together through the night," she nodded. "Hey, wasn't there somewhere you were supposed to be?"

"Gah!" Zaida raced off as fast as the crowd would allow.

The Harvest Season Festival was a favoured event for Yorresie. Seven days of celebration usually came as a much-needed break away from her students. She loved them all, but there was no denying that teaching was work. The time away from the classroom, in the crisp air among merry peers toasting to the wellbeing of the community was rejuvenating.

This year was different though, and not on account of the relaxed morals of the church. The nun felt distracted, her mind still turning as it had been since recovering from the incursion with the demons; since learning Zaida's secret; since being saved by an enemy.

Yorresie had thought it was over when the other woman left her recovery room. The demon-knight seemed honest about her motivations, she was not going to threaten anyone in Merridian, and life could go on for everyone. That should have been the end of it. So why could she not get her mind off Zaida and the rest of demonkind?

It was not fear. She had seen too much of the oafish woman to feel any concern about what she might personally do, or whether she might still serve the Demon Lord.

It was not appreciation. A single act of benevolence did not offset years of harm and conflict. Not to mention there was little evidence that Zaida had not simply been defending herself.

However, it may have been curiosity. She had learned so much about demons, but so little of it seemed to fit together. It was almost as if Zaida stood in defiance of all the presumed knowledge of hellspawn. Was she an exception, or the rule?

All these thoughts roiled in the nun's head as she did her best to enjoy the festivities, but both matters were pushed aside when a troubled-looking confessor walked a beeline toward her.

"Yorresie, can I speak with you? It's important," said Broomi.

"Of course. Are you in danger? Shall I fetch a guard?" the teacher offered.

"No, no it's not that kind of issue." The confessor led the way to an edge of the Green where there were fewer townsfolk and less noise. "We're in trouble - all of Merridian."

"What? What happened?" Yorresie asked, alarmed.

"I overheard a conversation between Clara and Ursula. They were speaking of how weak the town barrier has grown."

"No, but... but how? It has always stood firm in our defense."

"The faith in Geod and the church has abated; that's what Clara and Ursula said, anyway." Broomi looked into the distance, a vaguely-pained expression on her face. "I think this whole initiative may have, erm... backfired."

Yorresie knew what she meant. In the first weeks, the church had grown wildly popular as the citizens of Merridian were sanctioned to act upon their fantasies regarding the clergy and laity - or at the very least try. However, following that initial boom, enthusiasm for the church and Geod had waned. Enrollment to join the church's ranks had fallen off, then attendance to general congregations had seen a decline. It was not news to her that the church was in a similar spot as it had been before all this madness, but she was rattled to learn that it was bad enough to worry High Priestess Fauxbright.

"Why are you telling me this?" the teacher asked. "Matters of this sort are beyond the scope of my influence."

"I know, I know," Broomi said apologetically. "But you were the first sister I found, and I need help setting things right. I didn't mean for things to go this far. I just wanted a bit of harmless fun." There was a shift in her voice as her throat grew choked. "You know how people are always down because they're afraid to try things and upset Geod. I thought that if they had an outlet... and we could... could..."

"No, sh-sh-sh-sh," Yorresie hushed the girl and took her in a comforting embrace. "It's not your fault. You would never have done something so risky if you knew it would endanger people." More honestly, she was a tad surprised to learn that the dear little confessor had had a hand in the raunchy development for the town, and found it at least a little suspect that she had taken things in the direction she had, but it was not the time to say as much. "It's all right. We can fix this. You said you overheard Clara speaking to Ursula? Then they're already working toward a solution. With help from you and myself, we can resolve this in no time. Until then, Merridian will simply have to be more careful. We can go to the knights and ask them to redouble their defenses."

Broomi looked at her. "The knights? You think it's a good idea to go to them? I mean, this whole business is essentially a contest between their order and our own. You trust that they wouldn't take advantage of our moment of weakness?"

"I trust that they will at least be responsible enough to put the safety of the city above all else, and that is what matters."

Broomi wore a glum expression, grappling with the idea that her innocent attempt at livening up things around Merridian would cost the church and all its members. She took calming breaths. Her eyes were reddened, but no tears fell. "Okay. I suppose we ought to find Dyna."

"Or perhaps it would be more prudent to speak to someone else?" Yorresie proposed. The girl only displayed her lack of comprehension.

"There you are," Dvorah observed with measured but genuine irritation. "And I was worried you had bowed out altogether."

Zaida pulled laboured breaths as she checked that her hair was still in place. Rushing to meet the first of her dates, she feared the arrangement had fallen out of place. That would be most regrettable as Edie had selflessly spent a good while experimenting on and styling it into a way that was, as she had put it, "cute and natural-looking, but distinct from how you usually wear it." The result was a legion of curled locks that hung closer to her head than typical, and placed all about to retain its voluminousness. Apparently, hair was a big deal to humans; they were worse about it than trolls. Additionally, Edie had insisted on touching her up with cosmetics on the lips and cheeks, but Zaida had firmly refused to allow the substances anywhere near her eyes.

"I'm sorry," the knight said, "there were so many people, and I couldn't..." She trailed off when she got a look at Dvorah.

The forewoman was dressed in a gown much like Zaida's own, except that she had found an agreeable corset; one that hugged rather than garroted her while still emphasising her hips and torso. Her hair had been cut, with the front done in a fringe that nearly reached her brow, and the rest tied back in a lengthy ponytail projecting off the back of her head with a hair cuff. She wore a corsage of vanda flowers - exactly as she had told Zaida she would. It complemented her purple-blue dress; a colour quite similar to Zaida's sash.

"I don't remember telling you to improvise with your outfit. Hm... fortunately for you, it fits quite nicely with our style."

Zaida promised herself she would do something nice for Edie and Sergei.

"Enough ado. Walk me to the Festival before we miss the events." Dvorah thread her arm around Zaida's and took her side, ready to go.

The way over was more of the same: streets dense with the sounds and smells of celebration with the energy to match. Zaida spent much of the time fretting over her gown and whether or not passersby were dirtying its hem. Things were slightly better upon the Green itself; at least the woman could raise her arm without knocking against someone, anyway.

The whole of the gathered crowd faced the large stage. Several of Merridian's most important figures stood upon it, including Montague and Fauxbright. The elevated figures were made visible by a cluster of illumination orbs cast by magicians in the wings. The final rays from the sun were slipping over the horizon. Chatter melded into a single cacophony until a city official stepped to the front of the stage and hollered for quiet on the part of the crowd.

They gave a brief oration praising the farmers and everyone else for their hard work in keeping the heart of the town beating strong. They thanked the townsfolk for the laudable Festival setup, made some minor announcements, then stepped back for other community leaders to share their own words.

High Priestess Fauxbright claimed the figurative spotlight to - of all reactions - scattered cheers from the audience. There were traces of an appreciative grin on her face, but there was something else too; something that conflicted with it. "Good citizens of Merridian, you are wholly deserving of the praise you have heard tonight. The evidence of your capacity for community and creation stands all around us in a beauteous monument for all to enjoy." More cheers arose; these self-congratulatory in nature. "I ask that when you look about yourself and drink in the well-earned fruits of the laborious and virtuous lives you lead, you think not only to celebrate Geod's gifts, but also to reflect on the road that delivered you to these joys. The future ought to be viewed optimistically, but the past ought to be viewed thankfully." Clara almost sounded morose with her final words. The claps that saw her back to her place among the other leaders were less enthusiastic.

Other prominent figures spoke with Captain Montague closing out the speeches.

"Okay look, I know you're all eager to get the party started so I'll keep it quick." She spoke with a tone of sympathetic exasperation. "You're all great and thanks to you, the knight corps has never been stronger. There's no bunch I'd rather swear to protect. In that vein, only drink as much as you can handle, be sure to have someone to guarantee you make it home safe, blah, blah, you know the routine. Now let's get to celebrating!"

Dyna threw up her arms and the crowd erupted in an excited roar. The official stepped back in front to deliver the official opening to the Festival, but their words went largely unheard as everyone was happy to take the small woman's exclamation as the cue.

Amidst the clamour, Zaida could swear she heard her name being called. Sweeping the sea of humans, her eyes snagged on a face aimed directly at her. Damn... It was Marisol, calling and waving to her as she did her best to wade through an army of people all heading in different directions.

"Ah... um, pardon me for one moment," she said to Dvorah, pulling her arm free.

The forewoman caught it before she could slip away. "And just where are you off to?"

"I'm... needing to use a restroom."

"Fine, but be quick about it. I don't intend to miss out on the fair foods because we dallied."

"Oh, then don't wait for me. It may be a while." Zaida offered a weak apologetic smile.

Dvorah gave her a hard look and an unhappy sigh. "Fine. Just remember that you are my date tonight and as such, I should be the focus of your evening. Meet me near the confectionary stalls the moment you're finished. And be warned: I'm still counting this as a strike against you. Now hurry off. You're already looking distressed."

Zaida complied. She was indeed eager to get away from the woman, though not for the reason she assumed. She pushed her way through as politely as she could manage. Marisol had disappeared in the mass, leaving the knight to search anxiously.

"Zaida."

"Ah!" the demon-knight jumped at the voice very stoically and impressively.

Marisol recoiled in surprise of the surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"No, no that's all right," Zaida assured her. "I was stressed that I could not find you."

"Aw, that's sweet. I suppose that's my fault. I asked you on this date and didn't even think to specify where to meet."

The knight was perfectly comfortable with allowing the courier to interpret the statement as she had. "No need to dwell on it."

"Yes, you're right. Let me say that you look lovely," Marisol complimented. The woman herself wore a tunic-and-breeches ensemble of similar oranges which, oddly enough, were somewhat complementary to Zaida's blue and purple. Her hair, usually worn wavy and to one side, was left to fall around her head freely, making it appear to have more body. Her face was done up, enhancing the beauty of her eyes and contours.

Zaida returned the compliment. "What do we do now?"

Marisol chuckled at the frank naivete. "I was thinking we'd start with some of the games, if that suits you."