Chapter ???

  Holidays

  Korrigan and Kyuuga are on the floor, on either side of a wooden panel painted with bright, colorful swirls. Drawn over the top of the colors is a labyrinth of ladders and slides, all piling against each other in a mess so elaborate that an adventurer can only take them one space at a time.

  The oni girl moves a stone for herself horizontally across the board, but gasps when she comes to a stop. “Oh no, that’s a slide!” To her credit, she honors the landing and slides her stone all the way to the bottom. Then she picks up the wooden cube, puts it in a cup, and sets it before the rabbit. “Your turn, Kyuuga!”

  The horned rabbit rears back and kicks the cup over, sending the cube skittering out, and then hurries over to stare intently at the other stone on the board. Obediently, the mage moves the second stone according to the number of dots on the top of the cube.

  “Congratulations, Kyuuga, you’ve taken the lead!”

  At the praise, the furry monster does a quick, tight lap of excitement.

  One end of the dining table has another panel on it, this one with the layout of a large manor drawn out across its surface and laid over a grid. Tassim, Benarou, Yorin, and Leuke sit around it, each holding a set of cards and keeping a notepad close by.

  “And I declare it was Lady Violet, with the Crossbow, in the Study,” Benarou states confidently after looking through his notes one last time.

  Tassim opens up the paper envelope in the middle of the board to check the cards stored inside it. “That’s another one for you. That’s your third, so you’re tied with Sacred Yorin now.”

  With her name mentioned, the white-haired elf gives a warm smile. “I quite appreciate the competition. Why, it is a pebble to my belt to know that I can hold my own against the Intellect of the Battlemage Hero. This game is a surprisingly engaging puzzle, as well.”

  The assassin chuckles. “You can just say you’re having fun. Priestesses are allowed to do that, right?”

  Leuke, meanwhile, lowers his head to the table with a heavy groan. “I haven’t been anywhere near winning even once! Can’t we go back to that property-buying game?! That one was way more fun!”

  Benarou pauses in shuffling the evidence cards to glare across the board at him over the upper rims of his glasses. “That would be because I was keeping track of your money for you.”

  The swordmaster gives a nervous laugh at that as he rubs at the back of his head. “Ah, I thought you were just doing that to be nice, Benny!”

  “I was doing it so that the game would move along,” the young nobleman corrects the former guard. “Every time you had to pay for anything, it took you an eternity to count your tins!” He gives the cards a tap as he finishes. “Honestly, I think that align-four token game might be more your type of experience.”

  Like a dog promised a treat, Leuke sits up sharply. “If I set it up, will you play it with me?”

  “No.”

  At the other end of the table, Empress Xuhitana, Seina, and Ayre also have their hands full of cards, but there is no board between them, only a pair of stacks of more cards. One sits face-up, revealing colorful faces with comically large Imperial numbers on them, while the other is face-down.

  Xuhi, who is, for once, devoid of imperial regalia and clothed in what passes for casual attire in the capital, takes her turn by placing one of her two cards atop the face-up pile. Unlike the number cards, this one has four different colors on it, and the Imperial symbol for four in the corners. “One,” she says calmly. “Red.”

  Seina doesn’t complain, simply proceeding to draw four cards from the face-down pile before taking her turn, but Ayre isn’t so quiet.

  “I can’t believe she keeps trouncing us … When I heard the Empress was going to be here for this, I was tossing, wondering if I could be executed for not throwing a game, but it hasn’t even come close to coming up!”

  Xuhitana gives a diplomatic chuckle, but her smile only raises up half of her face. “For the record, Ayre, the answer is no. I would be more upset if you did throw a game. However, if you want to defeat me, you will have to come at me with more fire than fretting over your own head.”

  That gets the elf to scowl as he gives his hefty hand a wave, showing off what is definitely over a dozen cards. “Fire?! What fire could catch under this much suffocation?!”

  That’s about when I step in from the kitchen, a tray in each hand. The house is an open concept between the kitchen and dining room, but after teaching them how to play the assorted games and making sure they knew each one had the instructions written down on a sheet of paper in Imperial Common, I’ve been busying myself in the kitchen. Aside from the occasional need for a ruling or clarification, they’ve all pretty much tuned me out, so I might as well have been in a completely separate room.

  “Cookies are ready, everyone! Sorry about the wait! Everyone having fun?”

  Almost everyone looks up from their games expectantly at that, and at the aroma coming off of the platters I brought with me. Not Benarou, though. He looks up, and he frowns.

  “Remmi, I’ve been meaning to ask, is there some … intent behind that garment you are wearing?”

  Well, if that isn’t diplomatic noble-speak for, ‘Why are you wearing that hideous thing,’ then I don’t know what is. I’ll let him off the hook, though, because at least he’s trying to be nice about it.

  Instead, I look down at the outfit for myself. It’s a mini dress in bright red fabric, trimmed at the collar and hem with poofy, white fluff designed to resemble fur. I’ve got matching white poof bracelets, a capelet in the same style as the dress, and matching slipper-boots for indoor wear. I know it’s not the coverage that bothers him, because that aspect isn’t much different from my normal wear, and is actually quite common for the region. It’s probably the color, then.

  “It’s traditional,” I chirp in reply. “I tried asking Ayre to dress up, too, but my best friend wouldn’t do it for me!”

  The elf in question sighs as he sets his cards down. “You didn’t try to ask, Remmi. You cornered me with something bright green and a manic look on your face, then tried to tie it to me with a twisted, red-and-white rope.”

  “You would have looked so cute in it!”

  “I would have looked like a heretical pine tree!”

  “Well, anyway,” I carry on as if his objection doesn’t matter, and begin setting down mugs of steaming, hot, brown liquid before people. “I didn’t just make cookies! I brought drinks, too! Creamy, sweet hot chocolate! With marshmallows!”

  Xuhitana takes a deep inhalation through her nose from over the cup I set before her. “Remmi, I absolutely adore this substance you call chocolate, and I’ve never thought to melt it down as a drink, but did you say marshmallows?”

  “Yup!” I point to the little white globs floating atop the blend of cocoa, milk, sugar, and vanilla. “Right there! They add a little more sweetness to the drink, and are a very popular addition! I actually had to use real mallow, too, since I can’t exactly get essence gelatin.”

  Ayre gives one of the baby marshmallows a poke with his finger. “Remmi, these aren’t marshmallows. They’re nothing like marshmallows.”

  I lean in close to his cup with a frown to confirm what I already know to be there. “What are you talking about? They’re exactly like marshmallows! What else would they be?”

  “Too heavy to float?” the elf suggests.

  “They're full of air, air floats!” I wave him off.

  “I-”

  “Yes, that's how it works!”

  It’s Seina’s voice that gently lifts up into the argument. “Um, it’s probably not my place to say anything, but are you sure you aren’t talking about two different things? Because it sounds like you’re each expecting something very different from the other.”

  I look at her, but then I sigh and settle my voice into a softer register. “I would absolutely agree with you, that’s exactly what it sounds like, except it’s not possible. I don’t speak Imperial Common, remember? I can learn to write it, but Essence Translation basically makes it impossible for me to learn how to speak it.” I motion to my elvish friend. “When I say marshmallow, Ayre hears marshmallow, regardless of what I’m saying. When Ayre says marshmallow, I hear the very concept of marshmallow. Miscommunication based on the concept of something we both know is thereby impossible.”

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  Xuhitana takes a satisfied sip from her mug as the others each come and get theirs. “Then we are faced with an impossible fact.” She smiles with nostalgia. “Mmm, Master Yorin put many such puzzles before me when I studied under her. Let’s examine this one. You each have a concept of a ‘marshmallow.’ That is undeniable, as it is a necessary prerequisite for Heroic translation. Clearly, however, they are not the same concept. They must differ along some line or another.”

  She turns first to me. “Hero Remmi, answer me thus: What is a marshmallow?”

  I give a slow blink as I process the unexpected question. “Well, it’s a confection made from mallow, a marsh plant, hence the name.”

  Beside me, Ayre gives a vehement nod of agreement.

  Xuhitana raises a finger - the long nail painted olive green, I notice - and taps it against her chin. “On the surface, then, the definition is the same, but we know its properties differ, as you consider it light enough to float, while Ayre considers it heavy enough to sink. In that case, a confection differs according to its ingredients. Besides mallow, what are the ingredients in a marshmallow?”

  “Well, sugar and vanilla, mostly,” I answer. It doesn’t take me long to come up with it, since I just made them today.

  But this time, Ayre doesn’t nod. His neck stiffens, and his head jerks toward me like he’s unsure what he just heard. “Honey and nuts,” he corrects me after a moment, as if he had to process reality’s diversion from his expectations.

  Xuhitana’s face just splits into a smug smile, and she takes another sip of her cocoa.

  I stare back at Ayre as I try to trace back in my head where he could have come up with the idea that honey and nuts go in marshmallows. Then my eyes widen and my jaw falls open as I hit on it.

  “Ayre, that’s an Egyptian marshmallow!”

  “I don’t know what that word means,” he smugly replies. “It’s a real marshmallow.”

  I wheel to the other end of the table. “Guys, tell the thigh elf they’re crazy!”

  But the other end of the table isn’t what I expect to see. Benarou, Tassim, and Yorin are all very much ignoring my existence as they continue playing their game.

  Leuke seems to have been left out of this round … on account of being completely distracted by the cookie platter, where he is rushing to shove iced sugar cookies shaped like trees, canes, and ornaments and butter cookies shaped like bows and snowflakes into his mouth like a starving man who was just placed before a buffet.

  The sudden silence spreads across the room until even those ignoring me turn to see the problem, and even when all eyes in the room are upon him, it takes him several more long moments to realize it, himself. The shoveling slows, he looks around the room, and he goes through the complex process of swallowing everything already in his mouth.

  “I … sorry … Your cookies are just so good, Rem!”

  The first thought that comes to my mind comes out of my mouth. “... It’s a good thing Anara makes more as a Captain than an average guardsman. She’s going to need it to keep you fed.”

  Several scoffs and chuckles come from around the room, some of them from directions I wouldn’t expect, as Leuke starts to look as red as his hair.

  I then grin smugly. “Maybe you should take some cookies to her as a gift for putting up with you for all these years.”

  The way his face innocently lights up with excitement completely kills the vibe, though. “Can I?!”

  “Of course,” I go with instead. “I’ll even send a thermos of hot chocolate as my way of saying I’m sorry she was too busy to make it. I’m sure one of us has a spare time stop bag to stuff it in.” I motion to Benarou when he raises his hand. “There you go. And I made an absolute mass of cookies in case everyone tore into them, so don’t worry about eating so many that there won’t be enough. That would be a Heroic feat even for you.”

  Before the conversation can go much further, I feel a heavy thump against my leg, and I look down to see a very cross-looking rabbit staring up at me.

  “Oh, don’t worry, Kyuuga, I didn’t forget you!” I reach for a wide, shallow bowl that had been among all of the mugs. “Unfortunately, chocolate’s bad for rabbits, and I didn’t want to risk it on you, so I made you something special!” And I set the bowl of hot malted milk down before him, along with a tray of butter cookies.

  As I come back up, Yorin is turning one of the iced trees back and forth in her fingers, lazily examining it as her head rests on her other propped arm. “I have been wondering, Remmi, what, exactly, is the purpose of this celebration? It has certainly been refreshing to spend such time with everyone, but why were you so insistent upon this?

  My arms empty of trays, I’m free to cross them as I tilt my head in consideration of the question. “Well, that’s a very complex topic, and the two things you’re asking about are only tangentially related. Part of it’s that, what with my whole reason for even being here over with the destruction of the Corruption, I’ve had a whole lot of time to feel really lonely as everyone else drifted back to the lives waiting for them. I guess I just really didn’t want to spend this day, of all days, alone in my workshop.”

  Oh, gosh, now I’ve gone and done it. Everyone’s looking at me like I just told them my dog has cancer.

  “You have my deepest sympathy, truly,” Yorin assures me after a moment, “and you are always welcome to pay me a visit when you are feeling lonely. But what of the day itself? Why is it special?”

  I give my hand a wiggle. “Eh, that’s where it starts to get complicated. There’s actually a lot of holidays going on at once, all month long, in fact, to the point it’s called the holiday season, and some people will even just say, ‘Happy holidays,’ instead of naming a specific one. Usually, it’s about renewal, but there’s a day about charity and helping the poor. Another holiday is actually eight days long and celebrates a miracle where temple lantern oil that should have lasted only a single night lasted for eight days and nights until more could be prepared."

  I motion to one side for emphasis. "I know the Tolestean year starts on the first day of Spring, but our calendar year reaches its end less than a week from today, and the eve of the new year is a time of festivities celebrating everything good in the past year and all of the open opportunities of the new one. Many faiths just focus on the Winter Solstice for being the shortest day of the year, because it means that every day after it, the long darkness of night will be a little shorter.”

  I’d been ticking off on my fingers to help me keep track of them all, but now I thumb to my own chest. “In the faith I was brought up in, today in particular is a celebration of the coming of a divine Savior, and the day’s named after Him. However, it’s big enough that it’s celebrated by just about everyone, whether they’re believers or not, as a time of family and friends coming together and showing their appreciation for each other!”

  Leuke is also trying to tick through his cookie-crumb-coated fingers, but he’s clearly not keeping up. “Wow, that really is a lot of holidays! How do you fit them all in?!”

  I shrug. “Most people don’t actively celebrate all of them, and more than a few are redundant with each other or end up getting merged together for convenience. You might have three important days in one week, but scheduling conflicts make it easier to celebrate them all at once. Do that often enough, and the all-at-once approach just becomes the new normal.”

  Of all those present, while I have all of their attention, Yorin looks particularly perplexed. “Remmi, am I to understand that your people practice multiple different faiths concurrently?”

  I give a bit of a grimace, though not because I think she’s going to be mad. It’s because it’s another complex answer. “Individually, no, not usually. While someone might change faiths over their lifetime, the one they practice at the time, they do so because they believe it to be the correct one. Across the world, though? The number of religions we practice is in the thousands.” I pause to consider that statement and how it could be misleading to my friends. “Though all but a tiny handful of those are extremely niche and isolated. Almost all believers in the world hold to just one of four.”

  She lets out a tired sigh as the cookie in her grasp droops. “I suppose we can return to why you felt it necessary to use believers as a qualifier at some later date, or perhaps it will be answered by my next question: Why is there so much uncertainty about the nature of the Heavens in your world?”

  “No evidence,” I reply without hesitation. “We don’t have an Essence System, after all. We’ve got lots of stories about the actions of the Divine, and some of them make more sense than others, but none of them have definitive proof. Every faith’s got an answer for why this is, usually centering around the withdrawal of gods from the lives of mortals as their intervention became less essential for our survival, like how a parent has to allow their kid to grow more independent so that they can eventually move out and become a successful adult in their own right."

  My finger goes up practically of its own accord as I continue. "Ironically, belief itself is also often a big motivator. If a deity is super blatant about their presence, it takes very little effort to believe that deity exists. If they’re distant and work through limited miracles and coincidental positioning, your spiritual labor becomes heavier, and there is considered to be a direct correlation between the strength of one’s faith and the spiritual power they can call upon.”

  Benarou adjusts his glasses as he finally deigns to contribute to the conversation. “I remain astounded at the sheer breadth of knowledge you consider normal, Remmi. You speak of familiarity with the myths of countless people to whom you hold no ties, as if you could apostle for any of them. Functionally, that is knowledge only necessary for foreign diplomats, who must know the culture and history of those with whom they seek to connect. What purpose could it serve for any other?”

  I beam as I inhale to answer, but he immediately cuts me off. “Ah, just for fun, then. How privileged.”

  My beaming smile turns into a scowl. “Okay, Benny, rude. That may not be wrong, but still … And it’s not just for fun.” I shake my finger in his direction. “Understanding many cultures helps us relate to them! That knowledge helps your diplomats manipulate other people, but for us, it connects us to them! It helps us empathize with them! We see each other as fellow humanity, with a grand mural of interconnected myths and legends between us, spanning back into the distant past,” and I swing my hand outward dramatically, “and infinitely into the future!”

  Xuhitana actually chuckles at my show. “If you are looking for something to keep yourself busy with, Hero Remmi, perhaps the diplomatic corps might not be a bad decision, after all.”

  But Ayre scoffs at that. “Or maybe she’d be more fitting for a theatre troupe.”

  I shoot a dirty look at my unrepentant friend, but Yorin speaks up before things can derail further.

  “Your people’s great value placed upon interconnections is admirable, Remmi. In a world without Essence, personal bonds are perhaps the only way to know another and appreciate their presence. In the cold, dark depths of Winter, coming together to support one another simply because they are a fellow person, and that fact alone is enough to treat them as family, is perhaps the most wholesome reason I have ever heard for a holiday.”

  She raises her mug of hot chocolate into the air before her. “I, for one, am honored to be counted as such a person to you, and may the whole of Toleste one day be seen in the same light.”

  I can’t help smiling so widely at that as everyone else’s mugs come up to the toast that it feels like my lips might split at the seams, and I’m not going to tell them I’m fighting back tears. I’m just so happy to have such good friends.

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