Book Four – Chapter Eight – Part Three – The Best Day of Their Lives

Before Srassa or Momo could reply, it seemed as if the big lad was ready. Feral strolled out through the oversized changing room, and the claps of his closest friends greeted him. He looked absolutely handsome in that dark red undershirt. The smooth black jacket had the first three buttons buttoned, leaving the final two alone. The Dwarf they saw when they first entered cured around his large body. After asking for permission, she grabbed a stool and hopped on it. Feral did not know how to tie a tie, so she did it for him at a blinding speed.

She went away, and Feral just stood there with a wagging tail.

“You look handsome!” said Momo.

“She’s right. It looks good on you.”

“The red really suits you.”

Servi and Srassa got their compliments in, and Feral laughably growled. “Thank you, friends! I must admit these pants are a bit too tight, but it was the biggest size offered here. I am glad I did not have to do any alterations for my tail to fit… Whahaha!!!”

Feral really did look as sharp as a knife. He took to the fancy clothes and uncomfortable ties better than most others of his race. There was a part of him who wanted to rip them off, grab his shield, and start his grind through Warden. Frankly, the hulking beast didn’t know why he had a hard time. He didn’t want to dare think he preferred the leisurely, easy job of working within the safety of a city to the gut-wrenching, heart-stopping thrill of a battle to the death. Aunt Canary told him that his uncle passed away after accepting a fight he knew he couldn’t win. She told him there was absolutely no shame running away to live another day.

Her words probably had more effect on Feral than he thought possible. Then again, Servi was an enigma of his mind. She threw away everything he thought he knew about the weak, Human female, who had no choice but to cower against the might of a Kobold.

Could it be possible her very existence frightened him? If Servi was an entity that existed, could it mean there was more like her in the world? Feral knew that staying within Canary meant slitting the throat of his personal growth. He just couldn’t thrive while working various jobs to make money while feeding himself. And he was so thankful to his blessed aunt for giving him water, some food, and a roof to sleep under. That was why he was constantly taking shifts at her store and doing whatever she wanted.

In short, Feral was just Feral. He was a Kobold, but perhaps that was the extent of the racial comparisons. Like most others, he did value strength more than anything.

Or did he?

He had accepted Servi so easily after she accomplished what he thought was an impossible task. Gradually, his heart opened up to Dwarves, Koena, Elves, and Singi.  Momo was so meek, tiny, and otherwise unremarkable in her strength, but Feral respected her because she had fire in her heart and a spring in her step.

Srassa was another one. At first, he thought she was a noble who galavanted around with her inexhaustible wealth to keep a constant train of excitement from running out of steam. But no. She wasn’t like that at all. Feral was personally smitten with her courage and willingness to devote herself for the better to the point where she came in second at the tournament.

The same tournament he lost.

I have to face it… I have no friends of my own race… But I have something better. I hope I am not alone in thinking that we are close companions, Servi…

With their shopping finished, the four walked out after saying their goodbyes to Jon and the other employees. Feral’s brand new shoes were so shiny and freshly polished they acted as a very mirror to reflect light. Due to how they were walking, it was a blessed occurrence Servi didn’t have to worry about losing her eyes. It didn’t even phase her. “So, big guy,” she said.

“Yes?” he growled.

“My instructor is coming to town tomorrow. In a way, she’s even strong than me, so I was wondering if you would want to spar with her? Maybe not tomorrow, but definitely soon. Maybe within the month?”

“OOOOHHHHHH!!!! I have been waiting for this moment!!!” He turned to Servi and shook her hand with both of his. “It is a bet, yes? Err… It is a deal, yes?” Momo and Srassa giggled.

“It’s a deal. Feral, do you have anything going on? Are you busy?”

The large lad removed his hands and tried to calm down, which was challenging because his tail was as wild as Momo’s. Sometimes, it just had a mind of its own. “Aunt Canary gave me the day off to have fun because I had to tend to her store. In my village, we never really had a festival like this. We celebrated certain events, like the birth of the village elder, with food and fighting, but that was.”

“Food and fighting, huh? Sounds like fun.”

“Mmm… It is very fun. The village competes to see who can catch the biggest animal for dinner. Some choose to dive under the lake and fight the swordfish, and others roam into the woods and marshlands to tackle the wild game. The winner gets to pick their opponent for the first fight.”

“Is that a particular custom that most Kobold villages practice? Or is it exclusive to yours?” asked Srassa. She felt something brush against her fingers and smiled. She hadn’t had a chance to tell Servi this, but she also often found it distressing if she didn’t have something to hold in her hands. The pretty noble with a bosom richer than Momo didn’t know why that was the case, but she knew who to blame for it. Right at that point, Servi squeezed both of her hands and felt both girls return the show of affection.

For Momo, she sent her love.

For Srassa, the once-lonely noble sent over her show of trust.

Servi didn't know if she loved Srassa, but she wanted to be one of her closest companions.

“I am sorry, but I do not know. I left almost as soon as I became an adult, so I only have knowledge of my village.”

“I see…” Srassa loved to learn. Her father, when he had the time, spoke with her about the world at great lengths. He wanted her to be educated and smart, but she didn’t know why. He never gave a reason when she first asked why was all this studying necessary.

Thinking about that now, it is odd… Having a vast library of knowledge isn’t something to feel awful about, right? Learning should never be considered a consequence. Jony told me that.

“Anyway… Thanks to the play, Mosie and I haven’t had a chance to cut loose and have fun. Do you want to join the three of us? I still got about two hours before I gotta be at the theatre hall.”

“If you are offering, then I shall accept. If it isn’t troubling, could you reach me about some of these things I saw? I do not understand what all of these little games are.”

Servi affirmatively replied, and off the four of them went. A pair of Humans, a Singi, and a hulking Kobold, was an odd party. It was an unusual gathering of companions since most Kobolds would group with Koena, Dwarves, or their own kind.

For the next two hours, the four, who had no chance to experience fun, quickly filled their quota. Servi and Itarr agreed that the other wouldn’t mettle in the games right after the former learned about Itarr’s Mortal Puppetry. Since she could target the ‘Servi’ portion of the body they shared, she could move as if she was actually there in the flesh. Janky as it was, it worked to a surprising degree.

For the game that involved throwing a colored hoop onto a field of greased glasses to win a small prize, Srassa proved to be quite adept. She landed a green ring on a green bottle, which meant she snagged herself a tiny handkerchief. Itself was as green as her eyes, and she was as happy as a dog alone in a field of bones. Momo stepped up to the plate, but she didn’t have the skill or luck. Feral managed to overthrow the four hoops he paid for, and he whined about the size of his hands and how they were far too big for such a little thing. Like their lover, Servi and Itarr failed to succeed at all, and that was twenty dupla down the drain.

From that ring throwing stall, the group bounced over to one that had a stack of cups. By throwing a ball, the thrower had to knock them down. It seemed easy enough, but the troublesome part was the projectile.

It was soft, light, and squishy. Feral actually squeezed the living life out of one by complete accident. He had a second chance, but the little white ball wasn’t perfectly rounded. Combined with the lacking weight, Feral couldn’t get a solid grip on it either. His chance ended in failure. Srassa managed to knock over one, but the grungy-looking Elf spat out that his game wasn’t a ‘one and done’ station. Momo knocked over three, and Servi failed while Itarr managed to get it. She shouted with glee and excitedly pointed to a doll shaped like a mouse. Itarr absorbed it a moment later—an action Srassa definitely wasn’t used to.

It kinda feels good that I don’t have to use a proxy to take and absorb stuff. Feral took to my ring easier than Srassa did. Itarr, I hope you know I can hear you squealing around inside there. It’s adorable... Really, seeing you act so girlish over a simple stuffed animal… I really do love you. Before we talked, I nurtured a fear in my heart. I was afraid we wouldn’t have a chance to act like this… I’m glad they were unfounded. I really am.

The next stop on their conquest of fun was at a mobile food cart. It sold grilled pork weenies on a bun sliced in half vertically. The elderly, wrinkly Dwarf running it called it a porker, and she had eight on the grill in no time at all. She offered no alternations or customizations to save time, so each one was all the same with onions, tomatoes, and a slice of cheese on top. The Kobold amongst the group swallowed his while and satisfyingly growled his compliments.

The rest of the girls ate while walking around. The common district was quite big, filled with many different charming and colorful characters. And it had so many stores and shops that it was hard to find a definitive list. Over half of every store within Canary had their own special promotions exclusively for this festival, so someone could travel all day and night for a week and never run out of things to discover.

Once the meals were devoured and swallowed, Servi realized she had time for just a few more spots of fun before she had to rush off to the theatre hall. Feral was thinking about what they could do when he saw something that made his jaw drop.

‘High Striker’ was the name of this Kobold’s stall. He stood shirtless—a furry chest filled with a dozen scars—next to an oddly shaped machine. The base was made of iron and some other type of metal, and it had a large tower with numbers scribbled into the side. That was securely planted into the base. The shirtless Kobold explained the objective was to take a metal hammer and smash it down onto a lever placed on the base. It held a metal ball, which would then fly into the air. It couldn’t escape since a glass display was prevented it from going anywhere but up or down.

To win, the ball had to smash against a bell located at the top. The numbers along the tower indicated how many points a person could earn. The bell was worth 100, and for every 100 points, the person playing could win a prize. It was costly, though, at twenty dupla a swing.

Feral asked about a quick match of strength, and Servi gladly obliged her muscular friend. He stepped up to bat and lifted the hammer up high. With his powerful muscles supporting that bestial strength, he slammed it down and was rewarded with the charming rings of a metallic bell.

Feral roared and slammed his tail into the ground so hard the tent where the Kobold was standing started to shake. He rushed to secure the prizes, which were cute, adorable stuffed animals. Men with girlfriends and wives would readily pay to impress their significant other to win at a game only Kobolds could win. The runner of High Striker had made quite a living at this ‘scam’ over the years.

Servi was up to bat. Before tossing the hammer at her, Feral prowled around the stack of prizes and finally chose a small stuffed alligator. He remarked it would be a gift to his aunt as thanks for taking care of him.

The girl with red eyes caught the hammer and, that was when the shirtless Kobold’s jaw dropped to the floor. That tool weighed over 120 kilograms. Someone with Servi’s build could not have caught that under any circumstance, but she did. She swirled it around her body and slammed it down.

Ring!

Ring!

Ring!

Three quick pounds rewarded Servi’s ears with three glorious rings. She gave the speechless owner forty more dupla and snagged three stuffed bears from his wonderful collection.

One went to Momo, who pressed it against her chest and hugged Servi. The second went to Srassa, who smiled and said she had another one to add to her collection. She didn’t feel right leaving it with just her verbal thanks, so she embraced Servi and whispered her appreciation. The last one went to the Goddess inside her soul. From the squeals and laughter, the Goddess was rolling around with her stuffed companions.

The power of a stuffed animal could bring a smile to anyone, even a Goddess.

“Whahahaha!!! I suppose that was too easy!!!” Feral belly laughed as the group started to walk towards the noble district. The time was approaching, and it was going to be here quick. Servi still had to introduce herself to her acting friends.

Before joining Servi and the others, Srassa timidly ran over to the hammer standing near the stunned Kobold and attempted to lift it.

It didn’t even budge when she used her entire being to lift it. That made her wonder how Servi flung it around her body as if it was made from paper and glue? She knew her friend was incredible but was she really that strong?

I wonder if that ring from her instructor enhances her physical strength? Those types of artifacts are rare, but they aren’t entirely unheard of. I’ve never heard of one attached to a ring with Dimensional Storage, though. Her teacher must really be powerful to have something like that.

Unable to dwell on it for longer than a few seconds, Srassa rushed back to her group of close friends while being very unaware of the four unscrupulous avian spirits flying overhead.

“So that’s what you sound like! And cool new outfit. It looks cute!”

Myrabel had exclaimed her surprise when Servi walked in alone. She had waved a hand and said her good afternoons. Momo and the others had to stay outside until the doors opened. A café was right nearby, so they said they would stay there and relax until they count enter.

The stagehands were hard at work in bringing out the props and décor that would be used as the play progressed. Myrabel, Denaire, and Grid were standing around in their first costumes. Each of them had four or five more that they would change into as the story unfolded.

“It’s odd to hear you talk so normally without crying,” Grid noted. The Koena immediately added he meant no disrespect.

“There’s none taken. I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother,” Servi replied. She placed a hand on the stage and hopped up it.

“If anything, I was perhaps a bit too unfriendly…” Myrabel rubbed her arms and scratched her face, making the veil was lifted since she didn’t want to test it.

“Mosie told me about that. Really, no harm, no foul. It’s all water under the bridge. With that said, I guess I am meeting you all for the first time.”

A round of handshakes and introductions later, Servi felt comfortable and at ease. Her fellow cast members nervously looked at the other, then asked the most pressing question on their minds.

“Can you still fulfill your role?” they asked at the same time.

Servi answered them with a glorious rendition of the opening monologue by effortlessly pushing all of her sadness and emotional anger into playing the part of a grieving widow. Myrabel watched with wonder at how Servi was acting  even better than she could. Instead of animosity, jealousy, or any other negative thoughts, Myrabel looked at a girl who certainly had a myriad of experiences that the Elf couldn’t claim to have.

Denaire affirmatively growled while Grid said he never doubted her for a moment. He put his hands into his jacket pockets and rolled his neck around. Servi took this chance to ask about his little brother, and the conversation soon turned to all they had invited to come see their performance.

As time passed by, more and more of the cast and crew walked into the theatre that was slowly becoming more filled. Servi introduced herself to the others, and they shared the same surprise and asked the same thing as Myrabel. It was even getting to the point where it was an overused joke. Becha, the noble who had a bone to pick with Servi’s status as a commoner, didn’t know how to react.

But Servi did. She thanked Becha for taking her and Momo to the restaurant for a delicious meal. Another friendship, while not nearly as strong as the others Servi had made, was forged then and there. To help break the non-existent mold between the two, she complimented Servi’s outfit she had dubbed ‘Cloak’ and mentioned she had never seen a pencil skirt used that way before. Fashion was something not very high on Servi’s list, even though she dropped two thousand dupla earlier, so it was nice to get a noble’s input from someone who seemed to be a fashionista.

The last two to arrive were Bartholomew and Wyima when there was still an hour and a half until showtime. The director pricked at Servi’s mind for a moment with various questions concerning the play’s plot. Next, he ordered her to act out the parts in which Servi’s role as Crying Noise was needed the most. She knew it was a test from the get-go, and after she passed with flying colors, the mysterious director had nothing more to say other than a final monologue of his own.

“I suppose I am glad you’re ‘healed.’ More than that, it seems the darkness dwelling inside your bosom is as volatile as ever. You’re a girl of a deep past that no one was cursed enough to share. You know I don’t mince words with anyone, and I’m not about to start that now. Your agonizing life, worries, regrets, unanswered prayers, and mental weaknesses are the sole reason I wanted you for the production. Selfish as those they have been, I must admit I was hoping your cure would not show itself until after tonight. Regardless, my worries were for nothing since you’ve exceeded my expectations. Keep it up.”

He had talked to Servi near the edge of the stage since everyone else had various objectives to be completed before the curtain opened. Wyima was nearby and spoke to Servi for the final time.

“It is great to see you healed. Since you’re in a position to ask questions, you may as well do it now.”

“Alright,” Servi put a hand on her hip, accidentally brushing against the empty sheath because she had forgotten it was there. “What reason was flowing through your mind when you decided to accept me into the play? I don’t buy the idea that it was just for my ‘crying.’ No offense, but that’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

His response shocked Servi for a second before she recovered. “I agree. I was against it from the start and only allowed you to ‘audition’ to prove to him that his requests and demands are becoming more and more ludicrous. Didn’t expect you to pull it off and actually surpass his incredibly high standards. Still, I offer my apologies since I actively wanted you to fail. A part of me is glad you proved me wrong.”

“I see… Honestly, I remember why I wanted to do this, but ‘why’ did I want to? Do you get what I’m saying? My emotions were jumbled up because I had to kill in cold blood to save the life of the one I love. The only emotions I only ever practiced here were sadness, regret, and crying. There was nothing ‘happy’ except for meeting Myrabel, Denaire, Grid, and going out to eat with Becha and the others. If I had recovered even a month sooner, I’d probably have left and never returned.”

“You know why but not the ‘why?’” Wyima was in deep thought. “You’re telling me you never had any real love for the theatre?”

“That’s right. I never once spent a gram of brainpower actively or consciously thinking about it. That’s why I’m so confused why my damaged self even wanted to do this… And I don’t know why I want to do this since I obviously don’t share that much love for it. I’m only here because I’ve made a commitment and don’t want to break it. Let’s just say I’ve done that before a few times, and it doesn’t feel good. Especially when lives are at stake. On the other hand, perhaps those emotions I stated earlier were just what I needed to practice to recover faster. They say the mind knows better than the body, so who knows? Let me ask you something. What happened to the high-strung energy the director had? Seems like he’s upset now.”

“That’s just how he is. Whenever a production nears its end, he falls into a depression and doesn’t want to do anything. He usually takes a month-long break and refuses to leave his home. Give it three months, and he’ll be bouncing off the walls with his long-winded euphemisms and erratic monologues while making hellishly impossible demands that no mortal could fulfill.” Wyima rubbed his head in exasperation and held out a hand.

Servi shook it and said, if nothing else, she at least had some experience working in the theatre. She didn’t know how this could come in handy, but it provided a nice distraction. Wyima chuckled and said Servi was the first to call working with one of Lando’s most respected playwrights a simple divertissement.