Soon, all gazes turned to Carmilla, who sat at the edge of the table sipping tea. Noticing the many eyes on her, the wraith slowly raised her head and cleared her throat. “I know not the precise nature of curses,” she explained. “Some say they are a form of divine punishment, others believe them to be the whims of demons, and still others whisper of powerful contract magic from great wizards of eld. Whatever the case, one must know that meddling with the natural laws of the world incurs severe retaliation.”

“Wow,” said Lily in admiration, teapot in hand. “You know so many things, Carmilla.”

The wraith chuckled. “I have not lived for three centuries for nothing.”

“Except you’ve been dead this whole time,” Zenos pointed out as he always did, then let out a small sigh. “Well, it’s not like we can know for sure either way.”

In his letter, Becker had said to look for the man’s notes to find out more. Zenos did recall seeing a black leather notebook back when he’d traveled with his mentor. He’d innocently asked once to see it, been scowled at, and been denied. After that, he’d never seen the notebook again. His mentor had either hidden it somewhere or burned it; either way, it would be difficult to find.

There was actually one clue that came to mind, but even that was no longer a practical option. There was something I wanted to say to him... he thought, gazing out the window at the dazzling sunset.

“By the way, doc,” Zophia began, “this is kinda weird, but...”

“Hmm?” Zenos mumbled, suddenly brought back to reality. “What is it?”

“We’re planning a little event, see.”

“An event?” Lily asked eagerly. “What kind?”

The three demi-human leaders exchanged glances, and all said in unison, “A night festival!”

“A night festival?” Zenos echoed, cocking his head.

Zophia leaned in. “See, we’ve been talking, and we’re planning to hold a festival in the slums at night. There’ll be stalls, dancing, games with prizes for people who do well, stuff like that. And we want you to participate, doc.”

“Wow! That’s so cool!” Lily exclaimed excitedly. “It sounds like fun!”

“Huh. A festival,” Zenos mused. “I’ve never been to one, but it sounds interesting.” His former party had once come across a festival in a town they’d passed through; he’d seen many stalls, and dressed-up people dancing away happily. The others had told him to watch their belongings, so he’d been the only one who hadn’t participated.

“Another pitiful tale,” Carmilla remarked.

“I’m pretty confident about my pitiful past,” Zenos said.

“I don’t think that’s something to be proud of,” Lily pointed out.

Zenos scratched his cheek awkwardly as he turned to Zophia. “I mean, sure, why not? I’m looking forward to it.”

“Hells yeah!” Zophia exclaimed. “Make sure you come, all right? We’ll let you know when we’ve set the date.”

With that, the three demi-humans left the clinic with a spring in their step.

Carmilla set her teacup down. “A festival in the slums,” she said. “A place once known only for chaos and the stench of death, now hosting such a peaceful event. ’Tis all thanks to you, Zenos.”

“Thanks to me?” he echoed.

“You should come too, Carmilla,” Lily said. “It’s at night, right? So you can come!”

“Hmph! I, the Lich Queen, making merry at a festival?” The wraith cast a sidelong glare at Lily, then slowly stood, rolling up her sleeves with a chuckle. “None can best me at shooting games and scooping goldfish.”

“Yay! I’m so happy!”

“Sounds like we have one eager resident wraith,” Zenos remarked.

And so, in the slums where bloody conflicts had once raged, a peaceful night festival was soon to take place.

***

“Wow! This is amazing!” Lily exclaimed in admiration.

Six days after the festival’s announcement, on a night still warm from the day’s lingering heat, the young elf stepped onto the main street of the slums. The streets’ usual chaotic clutter was gone, replaced by the soft glow of lamps lining the roadside and the soft sounds of flutes and drums, all of which came together to create a magical atmosphere for the festival. The smell of food cooking and the sounds of lively voices rose from the various stalls.

“Festivals are great, aren’t they, Zenos?” Lily asked.

“Yeah, they are,” Zenos agreed with a nod as his gaze shifted to her. “What’s with the outfit, by the way?”

The young elf was dressed in something he’d never seen before—a polka-dotted garment with a collar that crossed at the chest and a red sash wrapped around her waist.

“That, young man, is called a yukata,” Carmilla explained close to Zenos’s ear.

“Ack! You scared the crap out of me!” Zenos yelped at the sudden voice. He couldn’t see the wraith, but she seemed to be following them, keeping her presence concealed.

“A yukata is the traditional attire for festivals in the Eastern nations,” she continued.

“Are you trying to freak me out?” he asked.

Carmilla only chuckled mischievously in response.

Lily looked up at Zenos, seeming apprehensive. “H-How do I look?”

“I think you look cute,” Zenos said, eliciting a bashful chuckle from Lily.

Carmilla, partially visible, said proudly, “Of course. I dressed her up, after all. Her cuteness was a given.”

“Thank you, Carmilla!” Lily exclaimed.

The wraith chuckled eerily. “’Tis my girl power.”

“A three-hundred-year-old is a ‘girl’ now?” Zenos retorted.

As they walked along the street amid the bustling crowd, a large stage built in the center of the festival came into view. Atop it stood the three demi-human leaders.

“Now then, it’s about time for our opening remarks,” Zophia said in a clear voice. “I don’t like long speeches, so I’ll keep it simple. First of all, thank you to everyone who helped make this festival possible, and to all of you who gathered here tonight. A festival in the slums like this was unimaginable during the era of conflict between us demi-humans.” The lizardwoman cast a sentimental look at the lizardmen, werewolves, and orcs gathered before the stage. “And it’s all thanks to one person that we can do this now.”

Her gaze shifted to Zenos, who stood at the far end of the crowd. Zophia, Lynga, and Loewe all beckoned, gesturing widely for him to step forward.

“Doc, we want you to say a few words for the opening,” Zophia said.