“Welcome to the Ceralde Branch of the Bank of Birain, how may I help you today?” greeted a male Cyno clerk with a polite smile. Dressed smartly, the male gave off an air of someone quite professional. His ears were perked and twitching slightly. Penelope thought he was like a police dog, listening for anything strange happening.
“H-Hello, sir. I’m here to open my first account,” Penelope greeted, as she was coached by Minerva.
After accepting her second commission, Minerva said it was about time she got her own account and accompanying card. After getting paid for her first commission, a fanart sale and expecting more from a second commission and a bounty reward that was still being processed at the Adventurer’s Guild, the mage did not think it was safe for Penelope to be carrying around all of her money in her bag. For one, it was a small satchel which barely contained the art supplies she insisted on taking with her everywhere; Minerva had to make the young artist choose what she kept with her instead of trying to cram all of it in there. With this in mind, it was crazy to also shove all of the gold she had. She was a walking target for thieves that way.
And so, where they were, finally opening up an account.
Minerva, wearing her best stern witch face, presented her own card. “I am her guarantor since she is still underage.”
Accepting the card, the clerk bowed respectfully, placing it upon a plate. A magic circle activated, showing him some information. After checking some details, he nodded approvingly, before handing the card back to Minerva and dipping under the counter to grab some forms.
Penelope saw them and sarcastically thought, Oh, goody. More forms. Yay. Am I in a magical world or am I still back at my old desk job? Who knew other worlds that had magic could also just be as mundane as Earth.
At least Minerva seemed very well versed with handling paperwork. Between the two of them, they zoomed through each page. The older woman joked about Penelope helping her more with the books back at the shop, considering how quickly she had picked up the language and always seemed good with numbers for her age.
Well, I am actually an educated middle aged woman, so of course my numbers are a bit better than your average ten-year old. Not that she had revealed that detail to everyone. While they were aware that Penelope was a more unique existence as someone reborn in this world, they did not know the extent of who she was beforehand. At the very least, they all understood she was a young goddess blessed child, though it was only evident if she openly used her abilities. She otherwise seemed normal (or tried to be; Penelope had no idea how actual ten year olds acted).
After the paperwork was done and Penelope was given her first bank card. She was asked to choose specific symbols for her magic circle that would be connected to her account and to memorize them in case she needed to identify her account at any point in the future, but otherwise, the whole thing was pretty painless. Her first deposit was decidedly hefty and was a literal weight off of her shoulders; a small receipt was given to her to know what the total amount would be sitting in her account and she smiled at the number there. She was slowly establishing herself in this world.
“Thank you for your help, Minerva,” the girl said gratefully as she stared at her shiny new card. Only she had access to the money behind this card and no one else. Now she could securely make transactions without needing to carry around a lot of cash, though she kept some coins on her just in case. Penelope changed a few gold coins into copper ones, operating under the idea that people paid less attention to you if you used the lower coinage. Back when she had been Kasumi, looking poor had been to her advantage when moving between jobs and home in the middle of the night. There was no point in robbing someone worse off than you.
“It’s no problem, Penelope. I should have done this for you sooner, but I suppose things get in the way sometimes hm?” Minerva winked at the last word, making her charge stare at the ground bashfully.
The little problem she had had been taken care of by a small talk with the older woman and a special potion for controlling one’s cycle when taken once a month. Of course, since it was taken in the midst of her cycle, it was too late, but it would prepare her body for it the next time. The potion stopped the cycle until a female chose not to drink it again. It was a great invention that took the comfort of women worldwide seriously. Better than the birth control her old world had, at any rate. She prayed for her fellow women in her old world to one day attain something as miraculous as this. She’d only had her period once and she would never wish it on anybody, let alone for over 40 years of their lives.
Before heading back to the shop, Penelope was going to be escorted to the entertainment square where all the performers for the festival had congregated. She would be left with the troupe so she could do her work, before the show of the day began. If she wanted to complete everything by the time they left, it was imperative she got a head start.
As they made their way there, Penelope spotted a large group of people, listening to someone making a speech passionately on the street. Their robes were white and lined with grey, with little embellishments, aside from a strange symbol they wore on a thick cord. She didn’t quite hear what that person said, but she managed to catch snippets such as ‘be saved by the goddess’ and ‘build a temple’.
“That’s a member of the temple of Tulilith, the Goddess of Rebirth,” Minerva explained, noticing her charge be distracted. “Best to be careful around them. They’re not all bad, but some of their practices are…”
Her expression darkened, trailing off there. The mage made them take a different route to avoid being seen or seeing the clergyman in the midst of his sermon about building a temple within town, since they apparently lacked one. However, that did not interest her as much as Minerva’s aversion to them did. She had been warned to stay away from them before, but never had Penelope see such a stormy look on her face. There was a story there. Unfortunately, she did not have a chance to ask about it, as they soon arrived at their intended destination.
Before she left, Minerva crouched to be more at her level, tenderly smoothing down her hair and tucking some behind an ear. There was concern shining in her eyes, her forehead wrinkling with thoughts of something distressing while she put on a reassuring smile.
Unbidden, Penelope reached up and cupped her guardian’s cheek. “Hey, is something wrong, Minerva?”
The older woman, surprised, stood there shocked for a moment. And then she shook her head at Penelope. “It’s nothing, Penelope. You just have fun drawing today, all right?”
Not convinced something wasn’t wrong, the girl just let her hand drop away and nod for now. They both had their secrets and it was only fair if she didn’t pry when the older woman had always respected her own privacy. “All right. I’ll see you later, Minerva.”
They parted ways, leaving Penelope to worriedly watch as Minerva hurried away. When she could no longer see the mage, Penelope went backstage to meet the members of the Mousai Troupe.
A million things were in Minerva Riverthorn’s mind as she dragged the clergyman behind her, ignoring his pleas for her to be gentle, not caring when the pleas turned to insults of insanity. The mage cared not one whit.
“I've said it before and I'll say it again – you and your ilk are not welcome in Ceralde.”
Oh, yes. There was a story to be had between herself and the members of the temple of Tulilith. A longstanding feud born of rumors and hearsay, but she knew the truth. Everyone who ever lost a family member to the temple did. Either by forced recruitment into the fold or by death.
Minerva had the unfortunate fate of experiencing both and from that, her hatred for those of the cloth had been born, but also her love and care for the innocents.
They could do whatever they wanted anywhere, but here. As long as she never saw them there would be no problem. And for many a year, she had seen neither hide nor hair of their presence. While her position was not what it used to be, the people from the temple had always respected her space…and her demands.
After all, that was the least they could do. To see one of them here…
“I don’t know if you came here of your own stupid will, or someone sent you here on purpose, either way…”
They had almost reached the edge of town. The clergyman tried to escape her grasp this whole time, kicking, screaming and struggling. Minerva had not bothered trying to hide what she was doing, so many saw her bodily drag a grown adult through the streets in this humiliating fashion, like an angry school teacher about to punish an errant student. Everyone turned their heads, pretending to have seen nothing. The visitors not knowing what was going on and not wishing to get involved scurried off. The locals who had always been ignored by the temple, ignored the man in turn.
Ever since her younger sister, Iris, died, nothing had ever been the same in Minerva’s heart. It was as if the world had become grey. Though she still lived her life, found her joys and her purpose, it did not stop the sadness and rage every time she saw someone of the cloth.
“I don’t have jurisdiction over any of you, but you would think such a simple request could be kept.”
At the entrance of town, the woman strengthened herself with magic, holding fast and then throwing the shrieking clergyman with everything she had. He went sailing high and far – perhaps it had been a bit much and she could have aimed a bit better, but, oh, well. Hopefully this would be a one-off pilgrimage some green behind the ears cleric was attempting to do.
After all, in all of Birain, only Ceralde lacked a temple dedicated to any of the goddesses. It would boost a cleric’s reputation if they went back to headquarters with news that they convinced the locals to build one there.
Assholes. Cheats. Fakes. Liars. Murderers.
Hiding behind a veil of piety and religious goodness, they manipulated the people of this land to serve their own ends. All to have absolute control of Birain, a land beloved by Tulilith, because they had the delusional claim to the throne through members of the factioned royal family. Nobody knew if it was the temple organization itself or from the royal blood that backed them, but their wish to control the country had long since been shown to the world.
It was a constant fight between the state and the church.
Normally places who were on the very edges of the kingdom never saw these people, so it was rarely a problem and a problem simultaneously. People who were in need never saw their aid, so they turned their backs on them and became self-sufficient, which garnered the attention of the organization anyways to try and grab a foothold.
And once they did, they simply just did whatever they wanted. To the masses, to go against the temple was foolish twofold: to go against them was to be against the goddess and that was heresy. But to deny them anything was also lese majesty, as the heads of the temple were always of royal blood, and could be punishable by death depending on the severity of the person’s defiance.
Of course, Minerva cared not. They could try to come after her, if they wanted.
But Ceralde was hers. And she would safeguard it from their ilk until her dying breath.
“Don’t ever come back!” she shouted into the air, letting out all of her anger and tension.
Honestly, she felt much better after getting all of that out of her system. She didn’t want to scare the customers with an angry face, especially not the young ones accompanying their parents for a pick up.
“Time to go back to work,” Minerva chirped to herself, satisfied at a job well done. She went back into town to open up shop, putting the thought of the temple out of her mind.
On the final day of the festival, Yule had asked Penelope to go out with him again, this time after dinner. Rarely had their little group allowed themselves out after dark, unless it was to grab a bite to eat when none of them felt like cooking (a welcomed treat). Normally they turned in to their own little activities in the evening until bedtime.
“Is there something special today?” Penelope asked, putting her supplies away. She’d finished her second picture of her commission and felt proud of how it came out; a whimsical portrait of Calliopus playing his lyre with roses surrounding him. The finished work was placed with the first one she’d finished the other day, of one of the other troupe members.
“There are fireworks tonight,” he untold her. “Do you want to go see them?”
“Fireworks?” Penelope breathed out, eyes wide.
Fireworks! She loved them! That splash of bright light and colour amidst a darkened sky, like blooming flowers that lived only to illuminate before fading off into nothingness. They were one of the few things she got to enjoy, a fleeting moment of happiness when she had been Kasumi, living in the night. She had only ever watched them from a distance, but they were more precious than shooting stars.
The idea of seeing them brought her no small amount of delight and so she smiled widely as she nodded her agreement.
“Yes, please! I’d love to go!” she said and Yule smiled in turn.
The two of them had gotten a little closer since the play. He smiled more around her and though still possessing an eternal grumpy face, he was more patient with her, too. Always attentive when they were outside and even inside. Whatever business he had whenever he disappeared for an hour or so every day must have concluded, because he was there more often. However, whenever she told him he was sweet or a good kid, he just got this cute, irritated look on his face as he told her he was just paying back her kindness from before. It was pretty funny how dishonest he was. She could tell he was just trying to be more friendly with her.
And honestly, it was fine. She’d never had much of a childhood, or maybe she didn’t remember it well, since it had been unremarkable before her whole family dynamic changed. But now she was doing her best to savour it. Yule was her first real friend in her new life and she would commit to memory everything they did together!
She also had a present for him. Aside from the work she was meant to do for the troupe, she had a side project that she meticulously worked on – Yule’s portrait as the young king from the play. She still recalled his striking figure dressed up like that and wanted to commemorate that moment forever. He had given her such nice gifts, she should return the favour!
Penelope took the picture with her before they took off to see the fireworks together. Minerva and Cynthia were going as well.
“It’s too bad I can’t see any of the colours,” Cynthia stated, sounding a little miffed. Apparently none of the Cyno race were capable of seeing in colour. Penelope held back from asking what she could see, figuring it might be rude and maybe a sour point to bring up. “And they’re too loud.”
“But it’s still fun to go out together for them,” Minerva piped in.
Cynthia grinned at her partner and offered her hand gallantly, the mage placing hers in response. They stared at each other intensely, expressions showing adoration and peace.
Yule made a face that said he wanted to puke, while Penelope just smiled at the two adults. However, he wiped that look off his face and turned towards Penelope.
A hand was offered to her, rather than taking her hand on its own as he was used to doing. He was giving her the choice to accept him as her escort, the same way Cynthia had for Minerva. There was just something in the way he offered that made the girl feel shy. Happy, but shy and she couldn’t quite pinpoint why that way. Her hand slipped into his, intertwining their fingers together and they went off hand in hand with their guardians.
“Have you ever seen fireworks before?” Penelope asked.
“I have. We see them almost all the time in the capital, so it’s nothing really new for me,” he explained, almost sounding bored by that. “What about you?”
“I have. I love them,” she replied, unabashed. “Whenever I saw them, I used to make wishes on them.”
“Wishes? Really?” He almost seemed to laugh at her admission, but stopped at just a small amused smirk.
Poutilly, Penelope said, “Well, where I lived you could never hope to see the stars. So instead of shooting stars, I made wishes on fireworks. It’s not that weird is it?”
His eyes softened and he shook his head. “No, I guess not. Sorry, Penelope. I guess I’m just so used to them, they just seem normal to me.”
Penelope was about to snap back with a retort about him living such a privileged life, yet her own experience kept her mouth shut. If he had lived like some rich boy, that wasn’t the case now. After all, the poor boy had been chased out of his home, without the rest of his family. She chose to remain silent, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back, after a fashion.
The area where they would go to view the festival finale fireworks was on a viewing platform made just for the occasion, within the entertainment square where many of the acts and performers had already packed up, with the exception of the Mousai Troupe’s tents. Yule helped Penelope to her seat as it was a bit taller than she was used to climbing onto, before taking his own seat.
“...Will you be making a wish?” came the question.
Penelope shook her head.
Yule gently nudged her. “You should. If you want to make a wish on the fireworks, you can do that.”
“...I don’t even know what I would want to wish for.”
Back when she had been Kasumi, those wishes under the bursting colours in the sky had always been to somehow find happiness, to escape the living Hell she had found herself in. Over and over and they burst above her head. Now that she was here, in this world, what could she possibly hope for? Things were more or less peaceful, she could draw all she liked and she was starting to call Ceralde home. There were people here who genuinely cared, as far as she could tell. Dare she be greedy and ask for more?
“What would you wish for, Yule?” she asked in return.
Yule was taken aback. “Me?”
He never expected to be asked that, however he actually took the question seriously. He closed his eyes and let himself be lost in thought. Penelope couldn’t read his expression, but at some point he looked torn about something and shook his head.
“...Yule?” Penelope pressed.
The boy jumped, brought out of his revelry. “Ah, um…sorry. I don’t know. Never made a wish before.”
“I see.” Must have been nice living a life that allowed him to not want to wish for something.
Since the fireworks weren’t starting yet, she decided to give him his present. Fishing through her bundle of papers, she pulled out the one she had drawn of him in his kingly glory. It was presented to him without a single word and he accepted it gingerly, careful with handling it. His eyes slowly scanned the drawing, taking in each pencil stroke, every detail painstakingly done to truly represent him in that one moment during the play the other day.
Yule was completely still and silent, except for the movement of his eyes and the longer that silence stretched, the more worried Penelope became.
Oh, no, she thought, deflating. Did he hate it? Why didn’t he say anything? Why was his face so blank? Why was his silence so devastating?
Feeling bad, she thought to treat the moment lightly, “Aha, sorry I guess it’s not quite that good yet. I’ll take it ba–”
“I like it.” His voice was quick and rushed, yet very sincere. His eyes, wide with wonder, admiration and shock were now directly aimed at the artist, looking straight at her. There was no smile, but somehow the serious expression he wore as he stared at no one, but her, meant more than anything. Her heart calmed and the pain went away.
All she could really say in that moment was, “I’m glad!”
Relief and joy filled her and in that same moment, a loud whistling sound went off before a huge explosion, drawing everyone’s attention skyward.
The amassed crowd cheered and whooped as the fireworks show began, signalling the end of the festivities. One after another, the sky was painted in a myriad of colours and shapes. Blooming like flowers, the fireworks sparkled and blasted throughout, keeping up the attention of everyone in town. From the very center of Ceralde, to the edges and beyond the town’s limits, even though still out in the water, could see the ephemeral light painting being made and then fading.
Penelope realized that the show would be over with if she didn’t act now and clasped her hands together and tried to make a wish.
What do I want now?
That was the main thing. She had never truly wanted anything before. She had learned to give up any prospects, any will, other than trying to survive with the least amount of pain possible. Surviving, not living. Living was too much for her before, but now…?
What if…what I want isn’t for me, would that be all right, too?
Looking up at one pretty blue burst, she made her wish.
Please, let my friends be safe and happy.
She thought this over and over and over, practically pushing the thought out into manifesting, as she did for her own magic. Maybe if her intent was strong enough, it would come true. Bringing her hands down, Penelope felt quite satisfied with the wish she made, turning to look at the rest of her group. Minerva and Cynthia were enjoying each other’s company, foreheads touching as Minerva covered Cynthia’s ears and Cynthia placing her hands on the mage’s hips. Yule had his own hands clasped together, as if in prayer. Was he making a wish, too?
He noticed her looking at him and turned to face her with a soft look.
“Is something on my face?” he asked, voice a little louder to rise above the din of the fireworks.
Penelope blushed, caught. She shook her head.
“N-no! I was just wondering if you were making a wish.”
He smirked a little at her. “Hm, who knows?”
Oh, so he was too cool to tell her, was that it? Fine.
Crossing her arms, she looked away in a feigned sulk. “Really? Well, I wish you’d grow big ears!”
Laughing, he leaned back in his seat and told her, “And I wished you’d turn pink and get antlers.”
“Weirdo!”
“Takes one to know one!”
They stared at each other for a while. One second stretched into another and then a third. And, soon enough, they both melted into laughter. Out of habit, they found each other’s hands and locked them together again, snuggling up to watch the fireworks as they slowly ebbed into the quiet, starry night.
