As night descends the following day, the once tranquil streets burst into life, abuzz with activity.
Bonfires crackled at the heart of the square, dispersing the chill and blending with the lively chatter, the scent of malt, and spices, to create a warmth that enveloped the whole crowd.
Resident: Could I have some bread? How much is it, today?
Vendor: All bread and meat are absolutely free today, courtesy of the City Council.
Resident: Free? But... what's going on here?
Before he could react, the vendor had already stuffed several loaves of bread into his hands.
Vendor: Here's your bread. And here, take a drink on the house.
The vendor bent down to pour an amber-colored ale from a nearby barrel.
Resident: A drink? This almost looks like elderberry malt to me...
As the resident took a sip from the cup. his face lit up.
Resident: This is elderberry malt!
Resident: But, what are you doing? All liquors are banned now, even arcane brews...
Resident: Wait... could it be, is this all to celebrate the festival?!
Vendor: Don't worry. It's only a "market fair" today, my friend.
The vendor gave a shrug that hid their smile.
Resident: A market fair? This looks more like a celebration to me!
Resident: I was wondering why they started lighting up the square. It seems to me you're celebrating Christmas again!
Resident: Have you lost your minds?! Did you forget about the Duke's ban on celebrations?
Vendor: Not at all, relax friend. There's no celebration here, only a "market fair."
The vendor slyly winked at the nervous citizen.
Vendor: And this? No alcohol here. Only "fermented elderberry syrup" freshly bought from an arcanist.
Resident: But it sure tastes like—
Vendor: Oy, drop the act, mate. Haven't you been waiting for a "market fair" like the rest of us?
Resident: ...
The citizen gazed down at the cup in his hand.
Resident: Well, if it's just a "market fair"... Just a 'market fair,' that's all it is...
He muttered it low, as if convincing himself.
Raising the cup, he gulped the smooth malted drink down.
"Gulp, gulp, gulp..."
Resident: Ah! Haven't had elderberry malt in ages! Packs more punch than my old homemade beer!
Vendor: Remember that's "fermented elderberry syrup," mate. Drink your fill; we've got more than enough for today.
Resident: Oh, of course, only "syrup" how silly of me.
Resident: What a wonderful "market fair" this is—all the better with some lovely "fermented elderberry syrup"!
Charlie: S-So many people...
Charlie: I haven't seen a place feel so... alive in ages.
The Fool: Of course, everyone's flocking here! It's in our nature, something we can't resist! Like moths to bright flame!
Jeffrey: We invited a great many singers and actors... Though, for obvious reasons, only a few could make it as planned.
The Fool: It makes our planned performance all the more special, don't you think?
Jeffrey: You're right!
Jeffrey: I think the People's Troupe is what everyone's most looking forward to. That's why we've arranged your performance to be our grand finale.
Jeffrey: It should be a most spectacular show.
A wooden stage covered with tents stood at the square's center, poised to become the highlight of this unspoken festival.
Charlie: You mean we—we're, the last performance?
Charlie: If I'm not mistaken, our play would be...
The Fool: Yes—You'll play an important role in it.
Charlie: No, I absolutely can't do it!
Charlie: This... This is far too rash a decision! I'm sure I'll muck it up ...
The Fool: It was a collective decision, my dear Troupe Master.
The Fool: And we have full faith in your abilities.
Old Man: Huh?
Old Man: You...you're from the King's Troupe, aren't you? Here for the "market fair" too?
Charlie: Oh... Are you... talking to us?
Old Man: Of course, young lady. I've seen the King's Troupe perform, and I recognize a fair few of the faces among you.
Old Man: Well, whether you were for the "King" or the "Minister" once, those titles have long been lost.
Old Man: With all festivals and theater prohibited. Soon, your troupes may disappear altogether.
Old Man: Festivals and theater!
Old Man: I always thought they were an untouchable part of our lives, but now, they've become unspeakable sins.
Old Man: No matter how I try to reason with myself, I just can't understand why...
The Fool: A tyrant's sin is born of unearned glory. To keep his power and fame, he will abandon all conscience.
The Fool: Our existence is a mockery of the tyrant.
The Fool: And a tyrant cannot endure mockery.
Charlie: Mm... Mr. Fool! You can't speak like that here!
Old Man: I watched your performances back then when you were known as the King's Troupe.
Old Man: I saw actors dressed in splendid costumes lined up on either side. Then, the protagonist entered, greeted with thunderous applause.
Old Man: Goodness, that was an outstanding play... Something I'll never forget!
Old Man: The theater, props, costumes, scenery—everything was so magnificent!
Charlie: Th-thank you for your praise... I'm sorry to say, I wasn't part of the troupe at that time...
Old Man: What a pity! Those were beautiful times... So different from now.
Jeffrey: I understand how you must feel. The more darker the night, the more we yearn for the daylight long past.
Jeffrey: I fear we might never witness such a scene again.
Old Man: Oh... You're right. Bringing it up only adds to the regret.
Old Man: The king's troupe has disbanded, the old theaters will be demolished, and soon... all these splendid plays will be forgotten. With none left to remember their brilliant performances.
Charlie: ...
Charlie: T-that's not true.
Charlie: They will live on. Through generations, in writings and in memories.
Charlie: They won't vanish... Not as long as people have hope in their hearts. No, they won't disappear!
Charlie: Whether it's dazzling costumes or crude rags, whether in crowded theaters or in the dark of the woods
Charlie: As long as people have hope, they'll hold true to their hearts' desires.
Charlie: So, we'll deliver a performance just as outstanding as those of the past.
Charlie: No, more! I vow to you that we'll deliver a performance that surpasses all expectations.
The Fool: I vouch for this with all the skill and artistry I have left to give.
Old Man: ...!
Old Man: I see now...
Old Man: The theater isn't about splendid costumes, but each actor's performance, the heart they bring to their role—A simple truth, long forgotten.
Old Man: I underestimated your determination... I will look forward to your performance tonight, young lady.
The old man's eyes sparkled as if a star was reborn in his eyes, and he smiled as he left the square.
The Fool: A splendid monologue, Troupe Master Charlie.
Charlie: ...
Charlie: I-I just... What was I even saying?!
Charlie: Bwaahhh... I'm so embarrassed...
Jeffrey: You shouldn't be. I'm sure of it now your troupe's performance will win over everyone.
Jeffrey: As the master of ceremonies, I should apologize, for putting you in the limelight but—
The Fool: It is plain to see everyone has high hopes for us, Troupe Master Charlie.
Charlie: Waaahhh... The pressure— it's too much! My stomach is turning...
The Fool: And yet the show must go on, my dear Troupe Master!
The Fool: As performers, it's our sacred mission to channel the audience's enthusiasm into our very best performance.
Charlie: Waaah! Make all the claims you like... But, if we mess up, we're done for!
The Fool: There's no need to panic. We will step on the stage and let our performance bring smiles or tears to the people.
The Fool: It's our calling, an unspoken bond between performers and audience.
Soldier: Mr. Jeffrey!
A breathless soldier, hurries to Jeffrey's side.
Soldier: Mr. Jeffrey, it's all gone wrong!
Jeffrey: What's wrong, soldier? Take heart, the festival is starting soon.
Soldier: It's the Duke's cavalry...
Soldier: The Duke's cavalry are approaching!
Jeffrey: What?!