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.
“Sir Zenos, you should come to the stage,” Lynga added.
“Indeed. If anyone should make opening remarks, it’s Zenos,” Loewe agreed.
“Huh? Me?” Zenos asked, pointing at himself in shock as people around him began to cheer. “Man... I’m not a big fan of being the center of attention, though...”
“It’s a special occasion,” Lily pointed out. “Maybe you should go.”
With Lily’s encouragement, Zenos walked to the stage with resigned steps. After a grand round of cheering and applause from the attendees, he cleared his throat. “Uhh...” Well. Crap. He hadn’t been expecting this, and so he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Let’s see. Try not to get hurt—” He stopped midsentence, then shook his head slightly. With a deep breath, he continued, “Never mind. I’ll heal any minor injuries, so knock yourselves out!”
The audience erupted into thunderous cheers.
Afterward, Lynga went on to briefly explain the festival. There were games at several booths, and the winner would be decided based on their total score, with the first-place prize being an item of the winner’s choice.
“Have fun, drink, eat!” Loewe said. “Dance the night away. Game to your hearts’ content. Enjoy yourselves however you want!”
With that, the attendees dispersed to do as they pleased, and the first night festival of the slums had officially begun.
“Phew. We managed to get it started,” Zophia said, relieved.
