“It’s all, you’re all right…” soothed one of the actors.
“Yes, yes, you’re fine. You did very good,” another said.
Penelope was too ashamed to face anyone, just choosing to cling to Yule instead so she could hide her face in his shirt.
After their scene, Penelope and Yule were brought backstage once more so they could change out of their costumes. However, rather than changing out of them the girl simply latched onto her friend the moment she saw him come in. The two of them were just sat back there as the show continued while Penelope took her time to calm down. The members of the troupe were very understanding about them being there, downright nice even, which made Penelope feel bad about taking up room backstage.
“Don’t feel bad, listen! Your emotional actions have changed the course of the play!”
Penelope perked up at this and tuned in a little to hear what the actors on stage were saying.
The actor who played the main character, the king, was standing there, monologuing.
“I will soon return to you, my love! I still remember your tears and your sobbing face when I left years ago!” the actor declared dramatically, a feathered wing posed over his head.
Penelope buried her face more into Yule’s shirt. Gods, she was not living this down.
Yule gently patted her back, having heard all of that himself.
“Should we get changed and go back?” he asked.
“Just another minute please.”
“All right.”
It was, in fact, a lot longer than that. Not near the end, but nowhere near a minute. In the meantime, the actors moved around the pair, who listened to the performance quietly and calmly.
From what Penelope surmised, the main character’s friend called him to arms concerning the abduction of his beloved by an enemy ruler. The king, still young, had to say farewell to his own beloved wife in order to go to war. The war was quite bloody and last years. The rest of the play was his journey home, back to his wife.
According to the actors, the play’s ending changed depending on the audience.
“The last time we did this play, the king and queen parted ways rather violently. The whole audience cried about it,” said the actor who played the king when he came in to take a quick break in between scenes. “The people we brought up as volunteers last time had, apparently, been mortal enemies. So of course they almost killed each other on stage. Hahaha…that was an interesting show. We really had to work hard to make the story work in that vein.”
Before the finale arrived, Penelope and Yule were finally able to leave backstage.
“Sorry for taking up so much room.”
The Garuda who was there, the narrator at the time, Calliopus, waved his wing dismissively. “No, no, no, sweet girl. We sometimes get people who get stage fright, it’s perfectly normal. Please enjoy the rest of the show. I hope your next experience with us will be a good one.”
The pair quietly made their way back to their old seats, Matilda and Ulfric looking relieved as they sat back down with them. All around, their other seat neighbours whispered and pointed at the pair, making Penelope feel extremely self conscious. Despite getting her cloak back, it was clear everyone had seen her and her crybaby display and would be remarking on it.
“We were worried something happened,” whispered Matilda to Penelope, making the girl blush. How embarrassing. She just wanted to crawl under a rock and die all over again.
Something soft was pressed against her, drawing her attention. She saw Velma, offering back the rabbit plush earnestly.
“Here, you need it more than me,” she said kindly, which felt like an arrow to the heart. Even the actual child was pitying her. Nothing could be more mortifying. Penelope took it back, forcing a smiling as she thanked Velma for returning the item. She promptly buried her reddening face in the soft material, fighting the urge to scream.
The play was excellent, though. Now getting to see the performance up front and not in the back, she wished she’d come out sooner. While out in the spotlight, the actors looked so grand and glamorous, no small part due to their own colourful selves, but the costume work and acting. They knew exactly how to move themselves to appear larger than life, gathering all stares towards them.
Penelope felt inspired.
She brought out a paper, smoothing it out on her lap and ones of her pencils, furiously sketching as the play continued. Her favourite amongst the troupe was the actor who played the lead role, glancing at him whenever he came on stage before putting more details to her drawing. She wished she could pause things and make people hold their poses, but she would make do with what she had to work with. Her adaptability was always her strongest trait, in her old life and in this one.
The trouble was the beak as the actor did not sit still for long enough for her to get a grasp on it. Every time she looked up from her page, she noticed his beak would be longer, wider, sharper. She kept having to adjust and redo it.
“My dear, is that really you?” a voice spoke softly.
There came a white Macaw looking Garuda who took the stage with the main character, dressed in fine clothes and lovely jewelry. While she knew the entire troupe was made of males, the actor moved so demurely and gracefully, Penelope almost mistook him for a lovely female Garuda meeting her partner.
“My love…I have changed,” the lead said, reaching out to his love. “But I am still he!”
“My love!”
“My dear!”
The two came together on stage, feathers fluttering as they rushed each other and embarrassing passionately. And there – there was the right moment! As the rest of the crowd was screaming, crying and cheering at this heartfelt reunion, Penelope saw her moment to finish her drawing. His beak was just at the right angle!
When everyone stood up to give their standing ovation, Penelope cheered, too, though for different reasons, the roar of a happy audience drowning her out so nobody noticed her jubilation at finishing a drawing. After a moment, she realized the show was over and clapped along with everyone as to not stand out.
Oops, did I miss most of the show?
As the audience broke apart, either to make small groups to discuss the play, to head off for dinner or even to storm the stage to speak with the actors, Penelope and her group remained seated, waiting for the throng to thin before moving.
“Oh, what’s that, Miss Penelope?” Ulfric asked, peering at the drawing she made.
Penelope, eager to show off her work, held it up to let him see. Both adults looked at the drawing in awe, both clearly impressed.
“We already know you’re talented from the picture you made of Velma, but this is also exquisite work.”
Matilda nodded in agreement with her husband. “Yes! I’m sure many of the fans of the troupe would love to have such a good keepsake like this for themselves.”
“You’re just saying that,” Penelope said, feeling bashful from the praise. “It’s messy and made with pencil, not like I took my time like I did for Velma’s picture…”
“But it’s pretty!” the other girl insisted, choosing now to pipe up with her own opinion.
“Right Velma? Smart girl, you know when something is worth a lot, don’t you?” Matilda cooed at her daughter, looking happy. “Honestly, lass, if you decide to sell it, you will find no end to people willing to buy it. Pictures of this detail are quite rare. I think you captured the moment quite clearly.”
Another audience member, who was passing by to head to the stage, heard the talk and actually came closer to investigate, gasping at the picture.
“That’s such a gorgeous picture of Melpomé! Who drew this?!” the finely dressed woman asked, looking between Matilda and Ulfric.
The couple shook their heads and gestured to Penelope who felt put on the spot all over again. The woman gasped again, recognition in her eyes.
“Oh, you’re the dear child who was picked for the prologue. How are you, sweet girl?” The woman seemed grandiose, but her words were kind when she spoke to Penelope. Had her explosion of tears been that memorable?
“I…I’m fine, thank you,” Penelope replied, tugging her hood up more.
“Oh come, come, my dear. You’re such a pretty girl. Why are you hiding it?” the older woman said, hands on her hips, tone now changing to one of disappointment. Honestly, Penelope wished this interaction could stop so she could go home already. Melpomé’s portrait wasn’t the only thing she wanted to draw. There was still Yule’s to consider; she wanted to keep the memory of him dressed like a royal fresh in her mind.
When Penelope didn’t seem to want to open up more, the woman sighed and began looking for her change purse.
“How much is it?”
“P-pardon?”
Now what?
“I’d very much like to purchase that drawing, young lady. How much for it?”
Penelope stood there in stunned silence. Did…did someone seriously just wanted to buy her art just like that?
“How does 100 Draks sound?”
“Er–”
“Then 200?”
“No, I…” That’s too much, too much! For a drawing like this, made on a whim, it shouldn’t be so expensive. “The price really should be…”
“What, are you crazy?!” Someone else came into the scene, picking up her skirts and rushing closer. It was another nicely dressed woman from the audience. “Just because it’s Melpomé, it’s minimum 200. That picture is so beautifully made…I would truly treasure it! A Melpomé picture that can capture his nobility, grace and handsomeness truly deserves a much higher price! My dear girl – I will give you 250 Draks for this picture!”
Again, Penelope was struck speechless and unconsciously moved closer to Yule who had stayed silent this whole time, just watching over her during this whole debacle. Of course, when she looked up to him to see what she should do, he turned his gaze away. In other words, he was here to support her emotionally and that was it. She was essentially on her own with handling these hysterical women.
“Wait, there’s artwork of Melpomé being sold? I’d like it!”
“No, me!”
“Me! Me! Me!”
“I was here first!”
It was quite the cacophony. A crowd had grown out of hand, shouting and vying for a piece of paper that Penelope had only put maybe 30 minutes tops into drawing? It was so not worth the fuss. The crying and screaming and catfighting lasted a good while before the group finally broke apart and Penelope’s own patience.
Is this what it’s like at idol shows or at Takarazuka fan meetings? Insane.
Penelope came out of there 400 Draks richer, somehow. She had not agreed to the price at all, was just given the money after everyone collectively agreed on what her fanart was worth. Fans were obsessed in this world as they were in her old one, it seemed. She hoped to never have to go through that again.
But at least someone walked off happy, so there was that. She watched as the winner of the artwork went off to see the stars of the show, most likely intent on getting an autograph from the lead, who was surrounded by plenty of admirers. From where she was standing, she could see Melpomé looking shocked and delighted at the picture before signing it for the woman, his crest feathers seeming to ruffle happily.
“Want to go home?” Yule asked, mirth in his voice. He probably thought the whole situation had been funny. Penelope gave him a dirty look.
However, she was more than ready to head back to the shop. Saying their good-byes to the Gidget family, the pair went home, tired, yet content from the day of fun they had.
The Spring Festival was to last a whole week.
Every time Penelope needed to step out, the world was super colourful, bustling and loud. She’d had enough the first day, though it did not stop her going out to get some grilled skewers when the temptation struck heR. Of course, she brought some back for everyone (using her own money, because she wanted to treat everyone) and had never gone alone, despite how close the stall was to the shop. Restrictions were still in effect, though there was one notable difference…
“Hello, Penelope, sweetheart. Hello, Yule. Here for another set of skewers?” the lady working the grill stall asked. She was turning them after giving them a basting of that sweet, tangy sauce Penelope liked.
Face visible due to lack of cloak, the girl nodded happily. “It’s my favourite part of the day!”
The stall lady chuckled at her enthusiasm and handed over the skewers in a bag with a little wink. “I gave you an extra since you’re one of our best customers.”
Penelope’s eyes were practically sparkling with barely concealed joy. “Really? Thank you!”
Since the play where her face was bared in front of everyone, there hadn’t been much of a point to hide herself. When Minerva heard what happened, she had sighed a little, but ultimately said that it might actually be a blessing in disguise.
“You plan to stay here a while, right? It might be good for the locals to know what you look like,” was what the mage had said.
As they already knew she had a hand in helping the town save their missing child, to have a face to the identity of someone who helped them would ultimately help her. The girl still felt a little naked without her cloak, but was secretly happy for not wearing it anymore, as the weather was warming up. Truly a sign of spring.
On the way back to the shop, the two children heard the shrill voices of hysterical women. Thinking something wrong had happened, they whipped their heads in the direction of the noise, ready to book it, if things got dangerous. And, in a way, they were not wrong in their assessment.
Several women were fawning over the star of the Mousai Troup, Melpomé, who was very visible with his golden feathers and confident swagger. His crest feathers stood high as females of various races followed him through the street. Penelope’s eyes caught his gaze and he pointed at her with a feathery wing.
“Ah, you there! Girl! I wish to speak with you!” he called out.
The children looked at each other, then around them to make sure he hadn’t meant someone else. However, there was just the two of them. He approached quickly, followed by his adoring entourage.
“I take it you’re the artist of this exquisite piece of work.” He gestured to the side just as one of the ladies opened up Penelope’s fanart from the show. Glancing at that woman, she recognized her as the one who won the bidding war. Looking back at Melpomé, she nodded. He bobbed his head approvingly. “An excellent volunteer and an excellent artist – fabulous!”
Melpomé spread his wings out dramatically, looking quite pleased as his fans swooned.
“My dear girl, take me to your guardians. I would like to propose a business venture with you.”
After that dramatic introduction, they all went back to the shop, minus the groupies. The ladies all seemed disappointed that Minerva would not let them crowd her shop, almost scolding them for when they originally all pushed each other to try and get inside to follow the acting star. She’d shouted at them about her shop being a place of business, not for silly ladies who can’t conduct themselves in a mature manner in front of children. Melpomé did manage to smooth things over with his entourage and the owner of the magic shop, promising to go have a drink with the ladies and to behave himself to Minerva.
After all, he was here on business.
“First off, thank you very much for participating and attending our show,” he said gratefully to Penelope, bowing his head to her. “Secondly, I would like to ask your guardians permission for you to make me another portrait that I can have duplicated for sale.”
“Duplicated?” Penelope asked. All her mind could think of was photocopiers. Did they have that kind of technology when they didn’t even have photographs? How did that work?
Minerva decided to be the one who supplied an explanation. “There is a spell in the field of Unnatural Magic that allows for making copies of an item.”
“Oh, really? Any item?” Penelope asked, curious.
The mage shook her head. “Well, there are limits. The spell cannot copy living beings or things that can be consumed. Plus, copies are of lesser quality than the original.”
“And why is that?” One would think people would jump at a chance to eliminate the possibility of world hunger.
“To protect the integrity of the original, in terms of items like jewels or valuables. You can imagine the kinds of trouble there’d be if counterfeits were passed around, right?”
That made a lot of sense. “What about the food?”
“Well, in order to make a copy, you need components to make the second item as unless you have Divine Magic, you simply cannot create something from nothing. So in reality, the copy is only perfect on the outside, not the inside. So, by this logic…?” Minerva looked to Penelope, waiting for her to come to her own conclusions.
“...if you need food to make food, then there’s no point in trying to copy food. I get it.”
“Good girl,” Minerva chirped. “As a fun fact, this was how we got Yule to eat his vegetables when he was little.”
Yule, who had been quiet, shouted indignantly. “Ah! I knew it! I knew something tasted off about all of the meat I was given! So it was you!”
“Fufufufufufu…”
Penelope tuned out the nephew and aunt pair as they predictably began their daily familial bickering to refocus on Melpomé’s request.
“So, why would you like portraits?”
“It’s for the fans, honestly. We are a decently famous troupe and we would like to have something we could sell as a souvenir that wouldn’t take up so much room, as we are a travelling troupe and we must travel as light as physically possible,” the Garuda explained.
“Makes sense. If you tried selling anything other than something paper thin, it would be hard to store it with the rest of your belongings. You build the stage and break it down yourselves, right?” Penelope inquired.
“Oh, you know your stuff little lady!”
Not really, just that my old company had me do all kinds of ridiculous things outside the scope of my actual job, so I had to learn how to do things like set up a stage for a conference really fast. That sort of work is not easy, especially for an amateur.
“We were thinking one portrait of each cast member in our costumes, with your permission to duplicate.”
“Well, I don’t mind the drawing part. I love to draw. Even if you weren’t going to pay me I would have been happy to do it. You’re all so colourful and beautiful…it’s why I drew you in the first place Mr Melpomé. But why would you need my permission to make copies?”
“As an older, fellow artist, let me tell you that it is always important to protect your works. Someone else may own it, but the work is all your own and must not be claimed by others. Your guardian already explained that protection of an original work is important, right? Well, unless someone doesn’t own it, people can’t use that spell willy-nilly, you know.”
So, it was sort of like a copyright law, in a way. That was how Penelope understood it. Basically, only the troupe and Penelope would have the rights to distribute the pictures, in this case. If she didn’t give them permission, it might as well be considered theft. The girl nodded, getting the gist of it.
But then she recalled how many actors there were.
“Wait, there’s nine of you! You want me to do that many portraits?! How long are you staying in Birain?” They were already on the 5th day of the festival, which meant only two more days remained. She was fast, but if they wanted something of quality she would need more time than 30 minutes per actor.
“Oh, worry not, sweet child. We are intending to stay a week after all is said and done, to rest up and prepare for the next town performance. So that should give you enough time, yes?”
Quickly calculating, that meant one day per actor before they had to leave.
“Won’t you have to make a request at the guild?” That was how it worked last time and Penelope did not wish that kind of paperwork upon anyone for a single portrait, let alone nine. They probably only needed to fulfill one request, but she had a feeling the clerks might not be having a good time at the moment with so many new people visiting town for the festival.
Melpomé placed a wing over his head, the other dramatically upon his golden head.
“For our adoring public? We could withstand anything! When you have built everything up from nothing as we have, pushing and perfecting our art, it is the people who supported us that makes us who we are as a troupe. ”
Putting it like that, Penelope really couldn’t say no. And honestly, it would be a good excuse to practice, too. The Garuda people presented her with interesting curves and angles to try and recreate on paper. It was a shame she didn’t have access to colours, because they had so many that it would be difficult to replicate their hues in simple black and white, but she would try.
“All right. I don’t see why not.”
Of course, they would have to use Cynthia as their middle man at the guild yet again, but until Penelope could accept actual commissions directly, they would continue to do it this way. The payment was also negotiated once Minerva rejoined the conversation proper, so that Penelope would be compensated fairly. It was her least favourite part of these jobs, she decided. She, apparently, wasn’t very good at gauging her own worth as an artist.
Listening to the adults talk about money, she realized what she had been paid truly was the low end. She thought Ulfric had just been nice to her, as well as the woman who bought her ready made portrait, but hearing from someone in a similar field, she now understood her art, amateurish as it was, was worth something.
In Iraloné, mementos like photos did not exist because the technology did not exist. The closest one had were artists who took commissions to draw someone and then commissioned a mage to make the copies, if one wished to distribute them. And as items like paints, inks, canvases, clays, marble and the like were expensive, so too were the time of those trained to use them.
Having the image of someone immortalized was a luxury and one people truly appreciated. Artists were important to society as much as scholars were, who recorded knowledge and history. Recalling exactly how someone looked back in history, or to have a keepsake so loved ones could never be forgotten; it was a shocking revelation, since she was so used to living in a world where images were easy to come by and some were even generated by machines.
How easy it was to take for granted, images made by others, when you don’t understand how hard it is to make them in the first place. The effort and the time dedicated to it.
It gave her a lot of food for thought about her own existence in this world, as well as a bit of hope. Maybe she would be able to make it as an artist in her new life. Though it was all circumstantial, she seemed to be doing pretty well.
Penelope rolled up her sleeves, determination in her eyes.
“All right. So, who’s first?! I’m going to draw the best portraits of your troupe, ever!”
