Chapter 536 - Before the Storm II

  Claire’s hair fluttered in the wind as she walked through Valencia’s busy streets. Her silvery blue locks glimmered under the sunlight, unobscured only because her usual hat had elected to sit on her shoulder. Sylvia was in her fairy form. Her legs dangling and her tail waving to and fro, she wore a bright green dress made of leaves. She hummed as they moved along, clearly in an excellent mood. It was half a matter of circumstance. The two halfbreeds had ventured into town on their own.

  They'd invited almost everyone, but Rubia and Arciel were stuck attending a formal discussion, Lana was catching up with her crew, and the boys were out getting wasted. Sylvia would have had half a mind to join them had Claire not vehemently refused. She wasn't against the act of bar hopping itself so much as the idea of the fox getting plastered. It was just far too much trouble to deal with when they already had enough on their plates as is.

  Most of their problems stemmed from the Cadrians' sharp senses. The moose could easily tell that they were practically impossible to kill, which in turn prompted the elves to inspect them and cause a stir. Of course, it didn't happen around every corner. Low level moose were unable to tell the difference between someone who was ten, twenty, or fifty times stronger than them. Only the stronger fighters could tell the difference, and being disciplined career soldiers, most kept their observations to themselves. Still, there were adventurers, ne'er-do-wells, and mercenaries roaming the town, the reactions of which were incredibly telling. That was half the reason that they'd wanted to invite the group in the first place. Everyone expected the Vel’khanese delegation to be of a high level; if the whole group were present, no one would have reacted with any amount of surprise.

  They could have at least mitigated the shock had Claire simply worn her armour, but she couldn’t be bothered. It also didn’t help that she'd felt like assuming her humanoid form. Frankly, she was barely disguised. Her eyes were somewhat masked behind a pair of rectangular glasses and her ears were tucked into her ponytail. But that was it. She wore a casual summer blouse and a knee-high skirt, meaning her talons, her scales, and her tail were readily exposed to any curious onlookers.

  She had already been identified as some sort of halfbreed, but the crowd was off the mark—it was set on the idea that one of her parents was a lizardman, but had yet to decide if the other was a human or an elf. Most were betting on the latter. The elven population was at least a thousand times greater than the human one—humans had become fairly rare after breeding everything but each other—but generally speaking, elves were not attracted to lizardpeople. Humans, on the other hand, were practically obsessed with them, especially if they were well-endowed.

  Though mildly disturbed by some of the more graphic descriptions of human-lizard interactions that occasionally permeated the crowd, Claire and Sylvia continued to wander the city. As usual, they had no destination and simply engaged with whatever they happened to find.

  "Oh, oh! Let's go over there!" Sylvia pointed at a pastry stand on the side of the road. It was one of the few confectionary shops lost in a sea of vendors specialized in meat and liquor.

  Claire sighed the moment she laid eyes on the shop. Though it'd stood out at first, a closer look revealed that it was not, in fact, quite as out of touch with the market as they’d thought. Though it was technically a confectionary shop, it just so happened to specialize in alcoholic sweets.

  "Didn't I just tell you that you weren't allowed to drink yourself stupid?"

  "And I'm not! I'm pretty sure the alcohol gets baked off. The super tasty flavours are gonna be all that's left."

  Claire took a moment to engage the system and analyze the many confections. Sure enough, it was as the fox had claimed; most had little to no alcohol remaining. "Fine."

  "Yay!" Sylvia hugged Claire's neck. "Thanks Claire, you're the best!"

  "Why do you like alcohol so much anyway? Do Llystletein foxes even know how to make it?"

  "Of course we do, silly! We're fairies! And everyone knows that fairy wine is some of the best!" huffed the fox. "But uhmm... you’d probably be happier if I didn’t tell you the reason we like it."

  "Why's that?"

  "Uhh... well, I mean it all kinda boils down to Al being weird."

  "Of course it does. It always does."

  "Not always!"

  Ignoring the protest, Claire greeted the pastry shop's owner—a centaur with a rich brown coat—with a smile and pointed to a few items on display. "Could we get a slice of the rose brandy cheesecake, a spicy tequila sundae, and an apple cider crumble?"

  “Good morning, and of course,” he said, with a smile.

  "Make sure you add one of the chocolate vekratt knockouts too!" said Sylvia.

  The shopkeeper said nothing, but gave Claire a bit of an inquisitive look and waited for her to nod before bagging up the treat.

  "Wait a second, that's rude as heck!" cried the fairy. "Why'd he only do it after you agreed!?"

  Claire tilted her head. "It's obviously because he thinks that you're a child and I'm your guardian." She produced the royal emblem as she spoke and handed it to the shopkeeper, who accepted it with a wide-eyed stare.

  "Huh!? Why would he think that!? And why would it be obvious!? That makes no sense!"

  “It seems pretty obvious to me.”

  “That’s just ‘cause you’re mean!”

  While the two of them bickered, the shop’s owner spent his time carefully inspecting the badge. He furrowed his brow, raised it to the light, and made a pinhole with his hand as he squinted at the details.

  “It’s real,” said Claire.

  “I mean, it looks real, but doesn’t mean I shouldn’t report you,” he said, with a frown. “Who’s this supposed to belong to, and how’d you manage to get a hold of it? Are you supposed to be an errand girl or something?”

  Sighing, Claire crafted the helmet she usually wore and threw it over her head. “Is this better?”

  “Wait. Shit. Seriously? No fucking way.” The man dropped the confections he’d prepared, but oddly enough, they floated back up to the counter before they could hit the ground. “You’re the sevent—”

  A spell sealed his lips before he could say anything more.

  “You saw nothing.” Removing her helmet again, Claire flashed the man a commanding smile as she retrieved her father’s emblem. “Have I made myself clear?”

  The owner was still stunned, but he eventually fought back his confusion and forced a nod. “Y-yes, I do, ma’am.”

  “Good.” Nodding, Claire took the bag off the man’s cart and vanished into the crowd.

  “Are you sure that was okay?” asked Sylvia. “Weren’t you supposed to be trying to hide your identity?”

  “I am.” Claire opened up the paper container and examined the goodies within. It didn’t look like they’d been damaged by the impact, so she started by magically grabbing the spicy sundae. Like most Cadrian ice creams, it was compressed into a ball and magically frozen. The wooden stick embedded into the ball ensured that it would stay cold so long as the mana in the air was of a sufficient density, and in Valencia, the many crisscrossed ley lines ensured that the effect was effectively eternal. “But I’m fighting next. It’ll be more fun if there are a few rumours flying around by the time I step into the ring.”

  “Uhhh… isn’t Allegra supposed to be fighting next?”

  “Who?”

  “You know what? Nevermind,” said Sylvia, with an awkward smile.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Good choice.” Laughing, Claire took a bite out of the sundae. She briefly disabled her heat resistance just to enjoy its spicy burn before floating the rest over to the fairy. “Do you feel like doing anything specific today?”

  “Not really,” said Sylvia. “I’m still not too sure what Cadrians do for fun. Besides fight and drink, I mean. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Let’s see… We’ve already seen all the plays worth watching, and we’ve listened to most of the better bards.” Claire couldn’t help but feel a little weird as she recalled each of the events in turn. Even just a few months ago, they’d all seemed so lacklustre. In fact, all of Cadria had seemed like a boring mess for as long as she could remember. “We could try the aquarium, if you’d like.”

  “I thought you said I wasn’t allowed there.”

  “You weren’t, but the festival is coming to a close. We might as well sow some chaos,” said Claire, with a giggle.

  “Wait! Claire!? I’m not gonna eat all the fish!”

  “There’s also a game hal—”

  “What the heck! You can’t just ignore me! At least acknowledge that I responded!”

  “I’m not acknowledging a blatant lie.” Claire lightly harassed the fox by prodding her with her ears. “Anyway, there’s a game hall in the middle of town. It runs daily quash tournaments, and it has a few other things too. We could also tour some of the schools or visit the sporting halls.”

  “Cadrians play sports? I always thought that you guys did nothing but fight.” asked Sylvia, wide-eyed. She began nibbling on her ice cream, only to react with a screeching start. “What the heck!? Why is it so spicy!?”

  “Because it's better that way. And dueling isn’t our only sport. It’s just the most popular one.”

  “What even are the others?”

  “There’s marching band, axe throwing, shot put, mounted archery, boxin—”

  “What the heck!? All those are only like, half a step away from fighting!”

  Shrugging, Claire floated the cheesecake over to her face and paused for a moment to savour its rich, buttery flavour. “There’s also a zoo near the southern wall if you want to see some of the wildlife from Cadria and beyond.”

  “Oh! That sounds kinda fun. Let’s do that,” said Sylvia.

  “Okay.” Claire took another bite from the cheesecake before surrendering it to the fox and heading for the wildlife park. It was a surprisingly large establishment on the north side of town. With a twelve thousand hectare lot, it was Valencia’s single largest non-military facility. The sign outside depicted a pair of curious creatures. One was effectively a collection of gorilla arms arranged in the shape of a ball, while the other was a translucent blue bird whose torso was replaced with a giant barrel. Oddly, the wings, head, and tail that grew out of the wooden cylinder were still roughly the same size and shape as that of the average falcon.

  “What the heck are those?” Sylvia blinked rapidly as she stared at the sign.

  “Animals.”

  “Well I know that! I mean, like, why the heck do they look so weird!?”

  “Most of the animals zoos collect are weird.”

  “That makes no sense!”

  “People wouldn’t pay to see them if they were normal.”

  “Somehow, I don’t really think that’s true. Normal animals are fun and cute too!”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Claire flashed the emblem when she reached the ticketing booth. The zoo’s receptionist was much less diligent than the pastry chef and let them through without another glance.

  “Wow, that’s just rude!”

  “Don’t worry. I wasn’t talking about you.”

  “Yeah, but still! Knowing you, it was probably a jab at Marcelle!”

  “It’s not my fault she’s hideous.”

  “See? Rude!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The first enclosure they found held a group of pot-shaped, plant-based animals. They had lizard-like legs growing out of their sides and human faces carved into the middle of their trunks. As they were unmoving, however, the visages more closely resembled death masks than anything one might see on a living person. According to the sign, the hallowbells only used their faces in mate selection—males preferred females with wider cheekbones, while females preferred males with larger foreheads—and the haunting guises were otherwise entirely irrelevant.

  Right beside the hallowbell display was a habitat featuring a pair of tsorcks—animals with meter-long wolf heads mounted atop tiny spider bodies. Despite their seemingly carnivorous roots, they were strict vegetarians that subsisted off of plant-based pigments. They’d drain the colour from the flowers they were given before returning them to the zookeepers, who used them to feed the other animals.

  “What the heck are all these things!?”

  “Animals.”

  “They’re way too weird to be animals!”

  Claire tilted her head and blinked. “These aren’t even the weird ones.”

  “Huh? What the heck do you mean they aren’t the weird ones!?”

  “Hallowbells and tsorcks are both pretty common. You can find them all over the place out west,” said Claire. “How do you know what a dog is despite never having seen a tsorck?”

  “A dog is a common pet!”

  “Not really,” said Claire. “Dogs are weird niche pets for degenerate noblemen.”

  “There’s no way that’s true!”

  They briefly stopped by a display with an odd, brown creature with a rotating head and a pair of giant, soulless eyes. It stared at everyone who passed, making an odd whistle or coo whenever its gaze was returned. Those who stared for too long would be mesmerized by its magical kaleidoscope pupils and wind up stuck in a trance. In fact, there were at least a dozen such people standing by the display, mindlessly drooling until the regular patrols walked over and smacked them over the head. It was a popular activity among delinquent teenagers—which surprised exactly no one. The exhibit label mentioned that the critter’s gaze was often used in place of narcotics.

  “Having a dog is like having a brain damaged huskar as a pet. It’s kind of like how you’d never keep a cat since that’d be like having a mentally stunted catgirl or cat-sith,” said Claire.

  “Wait! You’re just messing with me again, aren’t you!? We literally saw a shop with both cats and dogs back in Vel’khan!”

  “That was a niche store for weirdos.” Claire paused for a second. “Think about it this way. Have you seen any cats or dogs in Valencia?”

  Sylvia paused for a moment to think. “Oh my gosh, you’re right.”

  “See?”

  “Wait, if dogs are supposed to be weirdo pets, then what are the normal ones supposed to be!? Oh god, please don’t tell me the weird big-butted sheep we saw in Vel’khan are normal.”

  “First of all, they were goats. And secondly, no. That was some weird sex thing.”

  “Oh, whew.” Sylvia fished the chocolate vekratt knockout out of the bag and took a bite.

  “Most people prefer pets that prefer to stay at home and don’t really resemble any obviously sentient people they frequently come in contact with.”

  “Ohhh… so like the shoggoths that Melly and her people keep?”

  “Kind of. Boris would probably count too in regions with fewer lizardmen. If he didn’t wander off so much,” said Claire. “Imps, miniature treants, and ringfish are the most common.”

  “Ring fish? Are those tasty?” asked Sylvia.

  “I’m not really sure,” said Claire. “But I doubt you’d like them. They’re not really fish. I think they’re technically single-celled parasites.”

  The pair stopped in front of a larger display as they continued to chat. The exhibition was of one of the creatures on the billboard—the falcon that was growing out of a barrel. Its trainer was making it do all sorts of tricks, including flying through rings and withdrawing its body into its shell like a turtle.

  “Then why the heck are they called ring fish!?” cried Sylvia, as she watched the so-called vespardier do a loop. “And why the heck would you keep a parasite as a pet!?”

  “They’re not harmful. They live off heat and will leech what they need off their owners, but they consume so little of it that it doesn’t cause any negative effects. The ring part of their name comes from the way that they suckle their own tails. It makes them look like halos.”

  “That almost sounds kind of adorable,” said Sylvia.

  “They’re pretty cute,” agreed Claire. “Now that I think about it. The fish part probably comes from them looking a little bit like tiny, elongated whales.”

  “So they look like you in your tiny form?”

  “No.”

  “...Are you sure?”

  “Whales have fat, square faces. My face is sleek and pointy. I also have scales. They’re basically butt naked.”

  “Mmmnnn… it’s sounding awfully similar if that’s all you’re listing off.”

  Claire pinched Sylvia’s cheeks. “We’re not the same at all.”

  “I get it, so stop with the pinching already!”

  “You better.”

  Sylvia giggled and briefly leaned into the nook of Claire’s neck before rising with a start. “Wait a second! Why the heck did you think of me as a pet if pets are supposed to be all indoorsy and stuff!?”

  “Your fairy form is about the same size as an imp,” said Claire. “And Llystletein didn’t exactly have anything I’d call indoors, so it was impossible to say that you didn’t like being inside. Throw in how fluffy you are, and, as far as I was concerned, you were basically just a wild pet begging to be adopted.”

  “...Somehow, the fact that you’re making even a tiny bit of sense kinda ticks me off.”

  Claire laughed. “Of course it makes sense. Everything I say always makes sense.”

  “That’s a lie and you know it!”

  So on and so forth, the pair continued, bickering and bantering throughout the day whilst observing the many odd critters exhibited within the Valencian zoo.