Nora smiled up at the twin statues of Our Lady of Passion. Both had a hand raised to welcome guests into the theatre. From within the press of the crowd, she couldn’t see past the doors, or even much above the marble staircase.

  Beside her, she felt Bran stiffen and push back slightly as a group of middle-aged men tried to hurry past them in the crowd. It wasn’t enough to stop the men from squeezing past them, but it was enough to keep Bran from squishing her against Maggie and Mika.

  At the top of the stairs, the crowd split into two lines that shuffled quickly into the building past a ticket booth. The ticketers were protected by the crowd by stained glass windows with holes at the bottom to pass through tickets and clear glass where the employee’s face was.

  The glass design on their side of the line was a hooded figure with their hand help up to the entrance, the clear portion of glass making it look like the employee’s face was within the hood.

  It was a neat gimmick and she could tell it intrigued Bran, but what really interested her was the lobby beyond. Red walls and carpeting accented with golden floral patterns and framed with marble trim. And hidden within glass scones were orange tinted mana lights that cast the room in a light similar to firelight.

  The whole thing reminded her of some of the old theatres she read about from the previous dynasty, except with a modern twist. Most performance halls left the red and gold behind to adopt cooler colors and harsher lights centuries ago. Just from the lobby, Nora could see the myriad influences this theatre took from the old imperial performance halls.

  Nora smiled as she slipped all five of their tickets through the little opening at the booth.

  “Welcome to the Regalia Performance Hall. We hope you enjoy your show.” The booth worker drawled.

  “Thanks!” she said as she led her friends through the turnstile and into the lobby.

  The press of bodies was even worse in here as people milled about waiting for the show; but she still managed to pull everyone through the press and to the stairs up to their section. The stairs we barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side and bronze hand rails polished to a mirror shine made it even smaller. When they finally got up to the landing, after having the squeeze past what felt like a hundred people, the first thing Nora spotted was the bar.

  Carved from a single piece of stone that stretched the entire wall and seated with half-backed bar stools made from iron. Nora settled down into the red velvet cushion of her stool and had to hold back a laugh as Bran examined the chair before he sat.

  It was one of her favorite things about hanging out with him. He always looked at everything as if it was the first time he’d ever seen it. No matter what it was, Bran liked to examine them as if they were priceless artifacts.

  Nora followed his gaze to their sections [Bartender], a woman in her middle years, who wore a full tuxedo and a gold bowtie. In front of the people beside them, she juggled three liquor bottles. Every time she caught one, she’d pour a little more into the glass before she threw it back up into the air.

  “[Acrobatic Mixologist.]” Ellen said from beside her. “Fitting.”

  Nora looked over to her best friend and followed her gaze down to the plaque inlaid into the stone of the bar and held down with a pair of latches.

  ‘Hild Tyran, Tier 4 [Acrobatic Mixologist] Tier 4 [Empathetic Host].’

  Nora turned back to watch as the woman pushed forward a trio of smoking red cocktails towards three women in sequined dresses.

  “What’re you going to get?” Mika asked as he leaned around Ellen to look at her.

  “I haven’t looked. I think I’m just going to get the house special.” Nora said.

  “Good choice.” Hild said, leaning forward on the bar with a sultry smile. Nora felt herself blush a little and tried a swallow around a suddenly dry throat. “What can I get the rest of you fine folk?”

  “A house special sounds nice.” Bran said with his sonorous voice.

  The man was prone to long silences, and his voice always shocked her. Mika and Maggie also went with the house special.

  “Is the rose sour any good?” Ellen asked.

  “It is. floral cocktails are really popular right now. The head lady designed this one herself.” Hild said and nodded her head down the bar to a woman who looked no older than nineteen.

  Shakers danced around the woman’s head like a halo. Mana Sight allowed Nora to see the weaves that held the shakers up. Weaves sprouted from the woman’s back and acted like arms as the shakers danced about behind her head.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Impressive, ain’t it?” Hild asked, almost wistful. “I’ve got a couple Tiers to go, but I can’t wait to do that myself. So how ‘bout it, one rose sour?”

  “Yeah.” Ellen said, eyes still focused on the woman who’d taken down one of the shakers to pour out and added another three behind her.

  Nora’s attention stayed on the woman using so many weaves of magic at once for a while, but there’s only so long you can be distracted when a flurry of glass bottles is being tossed about in front of you. Hild was like a storm made of glass and liquor.

  Nora’s eyes had a hard time tracking where any one cup was, only really being able to focus on it when Hild would slam a finished cocktail down and slide it forward. Ellen got hers first as Hild slid a hazy pink cocktail with a layer of white foam across the bar to her.

  “You haven’t told us anything about the play yet. Have you seen it before?” Bran asked, both of their eyes locked on Hild as she threw glass bottles into the air.

  “Oh, I’ve seen it a million times, but you guys will love it.”

  “Why so many?” He asked, perfectly curious.

  “My dad helped write it. Before it ever saw the stage, I probably had the script read to me a thousand times.”

  “He’s a [Playwright] then?”

  “A damn good one.” Nora said with a smile. “My mom’s an [Actress] too.”

  “What’s that like? Having artists for parents, I mean.”

  “It was fun. They weren’t always as established in Woodsedge as they are now, and for a long time we lived out of the back of a stage wagon travelling from village to village.”

  “Must have been cramped.” Bran said, his eyes far off as he thought of something.

  Bran’s eyes always made her think of a bird of prey. With his sharp aquiline features, scars, and those golden eyes, he made her think of an elder eagle about to swoop in for a kill.

  “Oh, you have no idea. Even with my parents gone most of the time, my siblings and I were packed on top of each other. Still, we got to see some really cool places before mom and dad finally secured a spot with a regular company.”

  “Like?”

  “Well, there’s this one village a couple weeks south of Woodsedge, near the border of the Heartlands where a [Farmer] is trying to domesticate this species of python. I don’t know if he’s succeeded or not, but when we left, he was still designing the saddle.”

  Bran opened his mouth to speak but the sound of four drinks splashing against ice at the same time interrupted him.

  Hild poured their drinks with one hand, all the shakers stacked and pressed between her hand and elbow as she slowly poured. With her free hand, she snapped and a small blue flame flicked on above her thumb. She brought her thumb to each drink and set them alight with green and purple flames that burnt away quickly and left a lilac smoke to waft up into the ceiling.

  “Here we are, four house specials. Should I add that to the same tab, or are we doing separate checks?”

  ~~~***~~~

  Nora looked down at the ivory white programme in her hand, her head bent out of the way so it wouldn’t cast a shadow onto the paper. The gold leafed text was hard to read in this light, but the fact she had one right over her head helped.

  The sounds of a violin and cello played softly drifted up from the orchestra pit as Nora distractedly ran her fingers along the impossibly smooth paper. She couldn’t even guess at the number of skills that made this.

  On either side of her, two different conversations were playing out. Mika and Ellen were talking about what might be going on back home, but Nora stopped listening when Ellen admitted to being homesick. Best to let them have their moment. On her other side, Bran and Maggie spoke about their favorite plays.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t heard of The Ninth Life. It’s about this fae lord who shapeshifts into a cat to pull off a con but ends up falling in love with the [Witch] who takes him as her familiar. Seriously, never?” Maggie whispered, her voice hard to hear over the music and general chatter.

  Nora smiled to herself and drew in a deep breath. With so many people around her, the room smelled mostly of their perfumes and colognes, but beneath that the slightly dusty air carried with it the deeply nostalgic scents of a theatre.

  “Nora.” Bran said and did that shoulder bump thing he did whenever he thought she was nervous.

  “Yeah?” She asked and returned it.

  “Do you have a favorite play?”

  “It’s hard to pick.” She said truthfully. She’d spent her entire life watching plays and being involved in the theatre and she had so many good memories attached to so many plays.

  “Don’t be a spoilsport.” Maggie teased from across Bran. “Pick one.”

  “Fine, Too Late is my favorite.”

  Maggie and Bran shared a confused look, but that wasn’t surprising. Too Late had never really escaped the Woodsedge scene, and even then, it’d only run for a couple of years.

  “It’s about this group of friends that return from an adventure only to find their village burned and friends missing. They end up going on a quest to track down the evil wizard who kidnapped them. My mom played one of the main characters, Eerie. I think I’ll always remember the smile on her face when she came on the stage to receive applause for the first time.”

  ~~~***~~~

  The slight jingle of bells announced the last character in the play before he ever stepped on stage. Dressed in a puffy costume of red and yellow, striped with a hat that had four dangling sleeves, each capped with a small bell.

  The jester walked onto the stage more somber than any of the others before him, hands behind his back and posture stiff as he moved to peer down at the corpse of the poisoned king.

  She knew it was a bad habit, and she tried to stop herself, but she just couldn’t help it.

  “My dad’s the one who wrote the jester.”

  Bran turned to face her with eyebrows raised.

  “Really?” He whispered back.

  “Yeah, it was his first big credit. Now shh, watch the play.” Nora said with a smile he returned, his scar stretched cruelly up as he did so.

  Three hours later, with the taste of elderberry still on her tongue from her drink at intermission, Nora watched as the jester had a noose placed around his neck, his flamboyant costume a stark contrast against the gallows he stood upon.

  Given the chance to say some final words, the Jester bowed. The movement stopped short when the noose pulled taut. Even though she’d seen this play a hundred times, the sound of the trapdoor opening and the rush of the curtain as it closed just before the jester could reach the end of the rope always startled her.

  “That was good.” Bran leaned over to whisper to her. “I thought for sure it was the eunuch who did it.”

  “I’m glad, you should have seen my dad when the idea finally came to him. I swear he’d spent a week straight at the kitchen table writing and rewriting. When he finally had it, he jumped up and ran around the house screaming for like an hour. Woke all of us up.”

  Oddly, the thing Nora remembered most about that night was the sound of her father’s bare feet against the hardwood as he pounded up and down the hallways, followed by her mother’s shriek of joy when she found out.

  The thought caused her to look at Ellen and Mika, who were quietly chatting together about the play. Her parents were a lot of things, but one thing she couldn’t deny was that they were in love. The kind of love she hoped the two of them would find in each other.

  ~~~***~~~

  Nora had to shield her eyes as the crowd jostled her about. Even at night, the transition from the gentle orange glow of the performance hall to the harsh green light of the city wasn’t an easy one, and it took her eyes a few seconds to adjust.

  The scent of alcohol was strong amongst the crowd and overpowered the usual stink of a city, but she found she didn’t mind. Tonight had been fun. She’d shared one of her passions with her oldest and newest friends, and despite all the struggles so far, found herself even more amped up to continue with the campaign.

  Growing up, her parents always told her to chase her dreams, but with taking care of her siblings, she’d never had the chance to before this. Now she had a party, a steward, and was well on her way to chasing her dreams.

  With a slight effort of will, Nora flared her mana and felt it leave her core to travel up the pathways in her arm and hover above her hand. The mana started as a formless ball of energy but she infused it with all of her knowledge of water and pressed it into the shape of the jester from the play.

  She made the jester dance across the palm of her hand, smother than she could have done so before they left Woodsedge; and listened as Ellen teased that the play was only alright. Ellen was the only one she’d managed to drag to see this play before and she’d said then that she’d loved it. The others didn’t know that and came to the play’s defense.

  Nora made the jester bow to her before she dismissed the mana and looked up into the green sky with a smile. She’d always wanted to be an adventurer, but she never would have guessed how much she’d come to love it in such a short time.