Summer Festival

The morning of the festival felt just like any other. Mrs. Bentley got up at the usual time to make breakfast. Jacob was told to stay in bed while Camelia handled his portion of the morning chores.

After breakfast, with nothing better to do, Camelia decided to drop by Father Dawson's clinic, as she usually does. Even on the streets, the only difference that Camelia could see were several stalls that had been constructed on the sides of the main road. And even these were currently empty and mostly ignored by the many villagers in their morning commutes.

"Good morning!" Camelia called out as she entered the clinic.

"Morning," Father Dawson yawned.

He was seated on the floor with his back leaning upon a leg of the operating table. On the operating table were two large piles of freshly picked herbs.

"When…?"

"Rebecca will be here soon," Father Dawson stretched and laid down on the floor, "I'm going to take a nap before the festival picks up..."

Before long, he was snoring away.

Wanting to find him some sort of covering, Camelia looked around the clinic for something appropriate. She eventually found a blanket draped over the chair in front of the desk in Father Dawson's study. In the process, she couldn't help but notice three freshly sealed envelopes neatly placed on Father Dawson's desk. The enveloped were each labeled at the bottom with the names of Rebecca, Jacob, and Camelia respectively.

However, for Camelia, who had not yet learned to read, it was just meaningless ink on paper. So, she didn't dwell on the issue, and just took the blanket and left, making a mental note to ask Father Dawson to teach her how to read some other day.

After laying the blanket over Father Dawson, Camelia took a seat on the steps at the front of the clinic to wait for Rebecca. The wait wasn't long. After exchanging greetings, Rebecca snuck a peek inside the clinic, taking care not to disturb the sleeping Father Dawson.

"He went and did all the work by himself again..." She sighed, "When dad told me this morning that the festival was today, I thought for sure we were going to have to spend all morning running around the forest to restock..."

She shook her head and then took a seat beside Camelia, "At least this means our morning's free. Is there anything you want to do?"

"I don't know..."

What she wanted at this moment more than anything was information. A chaotic list of questions flashed through her mind, most of which Camelia doubted Rebecca could answer.

"Well, we can always just sit here and talk. After all, that's happened yesterday, that sounds just fine."

"Hey Rebecca, do you think the legends of King Solomon were real?"

"Huh? The legends of King Solomon? I don't think they could have been real. But it's surprising that you would know about them. Is your memory coming back?"

"No, Father Dawson mentioned them to me when I asked him about demons, and I had Jacob tell me some of the stories afterward."

"I see... by the way, which stories did you hear?"

"King Solomon and the four Demon Kings."

"Then, you know about Solomon's Kingdom, right?"

"Well… I kind of understand that it was a sort of paradise for everyone living in it… because of the blessings of the Demon Kings."

"Yeah, it was because the children of the Demon Kings helped out with just about everything. You see, with the wisdom of the Demon King Oriens, Solomon discovered a method of creating beings that could receive greater blessings than humans ever could. They were so different from us that they came to be known as the children of the Demon Kings. It was with these beings that Solomon built his kingdom."

"Huh… was Solomon's Kingdom a paradise even for those beings?"

"I don't know… the stories describe them more like tools than people. They didn't really have emotions or desires. They just followed rules and performed their given tasks."

Camelia took a moment to consider this.

"Are they some sort of ancestor to the demons we have now?"

"Father Dawson seems to think so."

"So… when he was talking about breaking the curse…"

"I don't know about a curse, but in the stories, King Solomon had some method of controlling those beings to do his bidding. Father Dawson thinks that obtaining that method would change everything. We would be able to rebuild Solomon's kingdom or something like that."

"I see… so that's what he meant."

"It's quite a stretch if you ask me though. It's just a story, after all."

"Hmm… I guess."

"Oh yeah, I just remembered. You know how the merchant group will be leaving after the festival?"

"I do now."

"Well, it looks like they'll need some of us from the village to help them drive wagons to the nearest city. I know for a fact that at least you and I will be part of the group that leaves with them."

This piqued Camelia's interest.

"Apparently, Father Dawson will be recommending me to the medical school in the capital, so I guess he does see some potential in me after all. Either that or my dad nagged him about it. Oh, and you'll be going there too to meet with our lord since having a holy sword is a really big deal. So, we'll be traveling together for a while."

"Our lord?"

"Yes, Lord Philip. He's the one who controls the development of our territory."

"What's he like?"

"Don't know. Never met him. I heard that he was still just a boy when he led the coup to dethrone the previous lord, and that was just ten years ago, so he can't be too much older than us, but besides that… well, I don't think our lives here were affected all that much..."

Camelia and Rebecca spent the rest of the morning watching the changes on the road and occasionally talking about random things. As the morning dragged on, more and more people passed by down the road, heading to the forest and back. Soon, it was time for lunch and Rebecca got up to leave.

"Hey, Rebecca, what do you usually do during the festivals?"

"Early on, I check out some of the stalls. After things pick up, I'm usually with Father Dawson for the rest of the evening. Funnily enough, people tend to hurt themselves more often while having fun than while working."

Even during the festival, Rebecca didn't have much time to interact with others; Camelia was starting to see why she felt so cut off from the other girls their age.

"Don't look at me like that," Rebecca smiled, "Staying with Father Dawson isn't so bad. Besides, at this point, the idea of checking out stalls with friends and dancing with some guy around the bonfire just feels weird. I just can't see myself enjoying such things, you know?"

Before Camelia could answer, Rebecca continued, "Anyway, I have to head back and make lunch now. My dad's probably already waiting."

With that, she started down the road.

"See you at the festival?" Camelia called after her.

"Sure, see you," Rebecca called back.

Camelia watched as she disappeared down the road, then got up herself, deciding to head back to the Bentley house for her own lunch. Just as she got to her feet, the door of the clinic creaked open behind her.

"Huh… did Rebecca not show up after all?"

A recently awoken Father Dawson was at the door, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Ah… no, she just left."

"She just left..." Father Dawson yawned and squinted at the sun in the sky, "lunchtime already, I see."

Then, turning to Camelia, "Do you mind if I join you for lunch? I would like to check up on Jacob."

Knowing Mrs. Bentley, it wouldn't be a problem, so Camelia had no reason to refuse, and the two of them headed off together for the Bentley house. As expected, the only fuss Mrs. Bentley made over the situation was that she didn't make enough food, which was quickly resolved as both Jacob and Father Dawson announced their intentions to not eat much for lunch. The four of them ate, after which Mrs. Bentley and Camelia cleaned up the kitchenware as Father Dawson examined Jacob's injuries.

Miraculously, Jacob seemed to have gotten much better: Most of his bruises had shrunk substantially and, while his eye was still black, it was no longer swollen shut. The leg was still in a splint and under wraps, so it was hard to tell, but Camelia suspected that even the swelling there was starting to go down.

It was strange. She wasn't paying too much attention, but she could have sworn that in the morning at least the eye was still swollen. All that happened after breakfast was that he took a nap.

"That's impressive... The potency of your blessing is higher than I thought..." Father Dawson observed, "I'm convinced. I will rescind my previous decision on fulfilling your request. You have the potential to be a soldier."

"No," Mrs. Bentley interrupted.

"Mom-"

"I won't let you go," She snapped at Jacob. Then, turning to Father Dawson, "Why would you support him now? Didn't you say he wasn't fit to be a soldier?"

"He wasn't before. But now, he has received a blessing."

"What do you mean?! How could he have received a blessing? He's no different from before!"

"His current recovery speed is not normal-"

"Shut up! I won't let him go."

"Mom."

Mrs. Bentley turned to her son, " Are you stupid? Do you understand what you're doing? Do you want to die?"

"Mom, please understand-"

"No! I'm not going to let you go kill yourself like your father did! You are staying!"

"It's not your choice," Father Dawson interjected, "Jacob's an adult now. Let him choose his own life."

Mrs. Bentley looked stunned.

"Get out of my house!" She shouted at Father Dawson, pointing at the door.

He got up, thanked her briefly for the meal, and was out the door in a heartbeat.

Mrs. Bentley took a seat at the table. Her hands were shaking, and she was breathing heavily. Jacob opened his mouth to say something, but then decided not to and closed it again.

The entire experience left Camelia slightly frightened; she had never seen Mrs. Bentley get so angry before. Camelia handled the rest of the dishes on her own and then helped Jacob walk back over to the bed in the other room. Mrs. Bentley didn't move from her place at the table; she just buried her face in her hands and started to cry.

"Um… Is there anything I can do…?" Camelia asked nervously; she wanted to comfort Mrs. Bentley but had no idea how to.

To her surprise, Mrs. Bentley started to laugh, "You're a good girl, Cam. But I don't think there's much either of us can do about this."

Mrs. Bentley turned to Camelia and smiled, "Sorry, I must have scared you. I'll take care of Jacob. You run along now, I'm pretty sure some of the stalls have opened by now. If you're meeting up with Rebecca, you should go now."

As soon as she was out the door, Camelia let out a sigh of relief, which she immediately regretted. She was glad to be away from the uncomfortable atmosphere in the house, but the lack of a proper resolution and the fact that she wanted to get away from it both bothered her.

Rebecca was waiting for her at the clinic. Father Dawson was nowhere to be found. After exchanging greetings, the two of them wandered down the main road, exploring the stalls. There was quite a variety of items on display, ranging from jewelry and farm tools to food and clothing.

"The payment comes directly out of the village budget and exports, so just pick out what you like and take it. Don't be too greedy though, our budget is limited," Rebecca explained.

There wasn't anything Camelia wanted in particular, so she mainly just followed Rebecca around as she picked out some clothing and cookware for herself. The food stalls were quite nice though: fruit tarts, cheesecakes, and more types of bread than she could keep track of. Fluffy, buttery, crunchy, sweet, flaky, sour. All sorts of tastes emerged and combined as Camelia sampled the various treats the stalls offered.

"Don't eat too much now," Rebecca laughed as Camelia dragged her around, "There's still the feast in the evening."

Soon the streets started filling up with more people, and Rebecca signaled to Camelia that it was time for them to go to the clinic. Father Dawson was there waiting for them. While they had been exploring the stalls, he had set up a tent of sorts in the backyard, with several sheets of cloth spread over the ground.

Rebecca put down her cookware and clothes in a corner of Father Dawson's study and she and Camelia started processing the two piles of herbs on the surgery table. Occasionally, people would drop by with small issues like splinters, sprains, or sometimes just feeling too hot or too tired. Father Dawson would handle these cases quickly and let them rest in the tent in the backyard until they decided they were better and left on their own.

As the sun started to set, the number of people frequenting the clinic decreased. It was time for the feast. Father Dawson stayed behind at the clinic to clean up, so Rebecca and Camelia left first to join the stream of people flooding into the town square.

Several lines of tables had been laid out in the center of the square, each completely covered with food. There were the usual pottages, but there were also all sorts of fruits, cakes, custards, cookies, fish, meat, soups, salads, pitchers of water, juice, wine, and more. It was an unbelievable variety of foods, and Camelia regretted stuffing herself with stall food earlier in the afternoon.

"Here, Cam."

Rebecca had gotten two wooden plates for them, and they joined the line of people getting food from the tables. There were no formal seats; people sat in circles on the ground around the many campfires around the square. Despite Rebecca's protests, Camelia dragged her to a circle of girls that appeared to be their age. Although she was reluctant at first, Rebecca soon had the other girls enthralled with stories of her work at the clinic. Camelia even demonstrated flying through the air on her sword, which received many cheers from the nearby circles.

On the other side of the square, Father Dawson took a seat beside David in their circle. The other old men in the circle were challenging each other to see who could drink more this year. David offered Father Dawson a cup, which he politely refused.

"Come on, it's festival time, loosen up," David teased, already a little tipsy.

"It dulls the mind. I'm not a fan," Father Dawson explained.

"Always so serious..." David downed another cup, "You've been with us for so long now… but you never talk much about yourself. All I know is that you used to be friends with Issac at some point..."

Father Dawson was looking across the square at Rebecca and Camelia's circle. David followed his gaze and saw Rebecca laughing with the other girls as Camelia used her sword to cut up a fruit cake in the air.

"What? Are you having second thoughts about sending her to the capital?"

"Aren't you speaking for yourself?"

"Yes… you're so right! I don't want my baby girl to leave! Who's going to cook for me from now on?"

"If you don't mind," Mrs. Bentley butted in, "You can join me for meals."

"Ellen!" David raised his cup in greeting, "You sure are late. What kept you?"

"Oh, I just had to make dinner for Jacob. He can't participate in the festival at all, being injured as he is."

"What a shame..." David hiccupped, taking another drink, "Was it fine to just leave him all by himself?"

"Mia's taking care of him now. I wanted to give them a moment," She winked.

Then, she turned to Father Dawson and bowed her head, "Sorry about what happened in the afternoon. I wasn't myself."

"It's fine," Father Dawson smiled, "I completely understand. It was rather sudden and unpleasant of me after all."

Mrs. Bentley bowed her head once more and then left to join the feasting.

"Ho, so you broke the news to her already huh?" David nudged Father Dawson after Mrs. Bentley was out of earshot.

"I was checking up on Jacob's injuries, so I thought I might as well. With news like that, it's the sooner the better, I think."

David laughed, "Oh man. I wish I could have been there to see it. You must have been as blunt as usual, weren't you?"

"I merely said what needed to be said."

"Have some tact, though. It's hard to let your children go, you know?"

Father Dawson sighed, "Yeah, I know..."

"Hmm…? What's this…?" David pried, "You wanna talk about it?"

"Not particularly. I'd rather not recall."

"Funny, I happen to know a great medicine for that," David said, offering him a cup of wine.

"Fine, I guess," Father Dawson downed it.

"Good, good." David said, patting him on the back, "Let's see between the two of us who can drink more,"

"Now, you're pushing it..."

Meanwhile, in the center of the square, the tables were being cleared away, replaced with a towering pile of logs. Several villagers brought out some lutes and fiddles in preparation for the festival dance.

When the bonfire was lit, the musicians started their song, and youths gathered around, dancing to the rhythm. The elderly who stayed seated nevertheless clapped along to the beat.

Although faint, the sound of the music could still be heard from the Bentley house. By this time, Jacob had finished eating and Mia was cleaning the dishes.

"It's started..." Jacob said, sighing, "I guess that means you did miss the feast after all… If you go back now, you should still be able to participate in the dance."

"It's fine. I'd rather be here with you anyway."

"Yeah… I know..."

Mia finished the dishes and took a seat next to Jacob. For a while, the two of them listened to the faint sound of music playing from the village square. Then, Jacob broke the silence.

"Father Dawson came by earlier today..."

"To check on your injuries, right…?"

"Yes, but that's not all. He's decided to support me."

"I see… so, you're leaving the village…"

"Yes..."

Mia looked at the ground and let out a sigh.

"Do you want to come with me?" Jacob asked.

Mia looked up at him, eyes shining, "Do you mean…?"

"I'm not stupid, okay?" Jacob said, blushing slightly, "I know… how you feel… about me..."

"Then?" Mia demanded, " What's your answer?"

"I don't know… I do like you, and I know I can rely on you, that you'll be there for me, but… I don't know if I can do the same for you… You know, like, I'm going to be fighting demons, and it'll be dangerous, and I might die, so… you know?"

Mia giggled at Jacob's flustered response.

"I just don't think I can live solely for your sake. At least not yet." Jacob finished.

"Yeah, I understand," Mia said, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. I know. This is the sort of person you are," Mia said, smiling, "I'll go with you."

"Are you sure? It won't be easy."

"I would have asked to even if you haven't offered."

Jacob couldn't help but smile. He took a deep breath and stood up.

"What are you-?" Mia sprang to her feet. To her surprise, Jacob stayed standing.

"I'm fine," Jacob gestured towards the splint on his leg, "It still hurts a little, but I can walk on my own now."

"That's amazing. Wasn't it just broken yesterday?"

"More importantly," Jacob extended a hand to her, "Mia, would you grant me the pleasure of having this dance?"

"The pleasure's all mine," Mia smiled, taking his hand.

The two of them did a slow dance around the table, following the faint rhythm of the music which reached them.

As the night dragged on, the bonfire slowly started to die down. The streets became filled with tired villagers, turning in for the night. Camelia and Mrs. Bentley bid good night to Father Dawson and Rebecca, who were supporting a completely passed-out David. After the two of them returned home, they had to wake up Jacob and Mia, who had fallen asleep at the dinner table, leaning on each other's shoulders. Mia gave Camelia a smug look, which Camelia didn't understand, before bidding everyone good night and returning home.

Overall, It was a merry night for everyone in the village.