Chương 134: 49. Alcohol Rarely Leads to Good Ideas

The party isn't nearly as structured as Rara led me to believe. Occasionally, the hostess will introduce some new entertainment, and I gather from observation that it's considered polite for the guests to spend at least a few moments giving the entertainers their full attention, but otherwise guest participation is kept to a minimum, allowing us to wander around and mingle to our hearts' content. The entertainments themselves are also not quite as varied as I expected.

Music, song, and poetry are all pretty common, and it seems like the "surprise" has more to do with the specific performer and whether their performance is novel. Also, music and song are very different things. Fa'aun instruments are often wind-based and have a distinct reverberation to them that's interesting but really different from the sort of music I'm used to. Music is never accompanied by song or vice versa, and the songs don't have any lyrics.

Instead, Fa'aun singing is a throaty, guttural thing more akin to yodeling—though their different vocal chords are capable of making some really neat sounds. I don't know if it's just the nature of this party, or if there's a broader cultural implication, but it's mostly solo performers. Aside from those classic forms of entertainment, there are quite a few cases of what I'm mentally grouping together as "skill demonstrations." Like a talent show, but... more.

A chef turns an entire huge fish into neatly-sliced and bite-sized pieces of sashimi in less than thirty seconds, including plating, and by the time the serving staff has collected the plates to bring them around for tasting, the waste is gone, the stage is spotless, and even the knife sparkles as though it's never been used. The fish is good, too.

I was worried that eating sashimi would bring back some unpleasant memories, but the texture is soft and pleasant, with a subtle savory flavor that practically melts in my mouth. Compared to the nasty, chewy, gamey lizard meat, it's night and day. And the less said about rock snail meat, the better. It goes nicely with my drink, which is some kind of spirit with a slightly fruity aftertaste. Aftertaste because I can't taste much of anything at all while it's in my mouth.

The fumes singe my sinuses and make my eyes water with how ridiculously strong it is. Not usually the sort of drink I go for, but if I'm going to be nursing one drink all night I may as well make it count. The drink being so strong means that I can take tiny sips of it while I nibble on the fish and watch a man recite a poem that seems to be mostly silent apart from the occasional halting syllable.

Evie's auto-translation does us no good trying to understand it, but I get the impression that he's playing with Fa'aun's system of compound words to intentionally cherrypick the stops and glue them together into something that's technically grammatically sound, but utterly incomprehensible. It does draw a few laughs from the crowd, though, so I guess it still makes a little bit of sense.

"Pardon me, Maev Allie, but may I have a moment of your time?" A man approaches me, and I don't recognize him. He's got common brown fur and curly ram's horns, with a lean build that might make him look like a swimmer back home, but is pretty average by Fa'aun standards. I cast a sidelong glance at Draga, who is engaged in his own conversation nearby, but still making sure he has a clear line of sight to both Rara and I. He's been making sure I don't wander off too far.

"How can I help you?" I ask politely.

"I don't believe we've been introduced."

"It's no trouble," he says.

"I asked around for your name before approaching. It was the least I could do after what you've done for us." I blink.

"After what?"

"Ah, forgive me—I should introduce myself. I am Ssri Keeno." His name is really odd, and I furrow my brows as I try to make sense of it. His pronunciation of Ssri sounds more like "Siri" but I can tell that he's actively suppressing his urge to break up the vowels. It reminds me of when Fa'aun try extra hard to pronounce my name. Then there's his clan name—Keeno, or "Ke'eno'o" which shares the same root as "Ke'ena'a" or Clanless.

"Clan... forsaken? Rejected? Abandoned?" I try, the words all sounding very similar in Fa'aun.

"Any would be true, but 'forsaken' is the correct one," he provides.

"It means that I was born to Clan Foren, but gave up that status, along with my original name."

"Oh. Why?"

"I can't speak for others who share my name, but for me it was a matter of love," he says.

"You've already met my partner, Sszlaw. I am their husband." I actually gasp in surprise.

"Oh! Blood and acid, I didn't realize—it's so good to meet you!" Seriously, she never even gave me a hint that she was married. Or that she's a woman. Wait—I'm making bad assumptions here. He's been using gender neutral language for them. I probably shouldn't be drawing conclusions.

"Likewise," he says with a smile.

"They've told me a great deal about you. It was just one meeting, but you made quite the impression."

"I'm glad to hear it, but I still don't know what I'm supposed to have done for you," I hedge.

"If anything, I owe you for the nail care kit." I hold out my free hand to show off my glossy nails in demonstration.

"Ah, it's good that our gift has been well received. Sszlaw regrets that they couldn't thank you in person, but your recommendation to Lady Tara has been a huge boon to our business." Dang, she works fast!

"It was nothing. They make good food!" He coughs awkwardly.

"Actually, ah, I do most of the cooking. Sszlaw just runs the cart and assembles the ssamsha for customers. Please don't tell anybody—it's supposed to be authentic serpentfolk cuisine, but Sszlaw has two sets of claws in the kitchen." Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I giggle and put a finger to my lips.

"Your secret is safe with me."

"More importantly, however, it's the good word you put in with Lady Gaa that I have to thank you for," he says, his tone growing more somber.

"Thanks to the church's recommendations, there have been far fewer cases of illness in the serpentfolk quarter. I suspect Sszlaw understated the impact of the illness when talking to you. I cannot say more, but you may have saved an entire generation of serpentfolk." That almost makes me choke on my drink.

"Wait, what?!"

"I've already said more than I should," Ssri replies quietly, shaking his head.

"Just know that the serpentfolk of Stebaari will remember what you've done for them. They are a close-knit community."

"They?" I ask curiously.

"Not 'We'?" He smiles sadly.

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. Sszlaw is wonderful, but I have struggled to be accepted by others—Serpentfolk and Fa'aun alike."

"Sounds like you've sacrificed a lot. Well, I'm rooting for you!"

"Thank you! Well, that was all I wanted to say. I'll leave you to enjoy the party."

"Aww, why not stay?" I ask.

"I could use the company."

"I, ah, am not strictly invited to this party," he whispers.

"Lady Biyu is known for being quite progressive and welcoming, but I should not overstay my welcome." I sigh, but nod.

"Alright, but don't be a stranger, okay? Come out and say hi next time we come by for a meal!"

"I'd be honored to have you as a guest and personally cook for you."

"I'll look forward to it!" As Ssri makes himself scarce, the ever-present words in the back of my head twist into something that Vi's been anxiously waiting for. [Level up!] Savior has grown from level 9 to 10. +2 Resilience (Violet). +2 Ego (Violet). Savior has reached its maximum threshold. [Upgrade] or [Fuse] the class to unlock further progression. Huh.

Is it just a coincidence that this happened right after someone acknowledged us, or does that acknowledgement actually play an important role in the actual achievement the [World Engine] tracks? Either way, it'll give Vi some number crunching to look forward to, though I'm pretty sure we're just going to be combining it with [Pathfinder] to get another three-star class. I finish my drink, wondering how it went so quickly as I mourn its loss, then carefully wander over to Draga—still getting used to these heels.

He's been so busy lately that we haven't gotten many opportunities to chat, and this seems like a good time.

"Hail, drunk," I greet him with a cheeky grin.

"How are you enjoying the party?" He gives me a worried look for a moment before raising his glass slightly.

"Allie. I'm surprised you can make jokes given what happened last time."

"I joke because of what happened," I retort.

"Can't let a bit of trauma spoil a good time—and that part at least was still pretty funny."

"Not from my perspective. I thought something had happened to either you or Lady Maari." I wince.

"Yeah, sorry about that. In hindsight, showing off our skills like that probably wasn't a great idea."

"Alcohol rarely leads to good ideas," he replies smoothly.

"There's no official policy in the order, but many ranger leaders don't allow their teams to bring any on expeditions—myself included."

"Hmm, but tinctures have alcohol, don't they?"

"An easy exception to make, since few teams have any mages in the first place and fewer still can afford magical tinctures." Draga's kind of a workaholic, huh? I sigh. I didn't really want to talk about ranger stuff, but Draga can be a tough nut to crack sometimes.

"Draga, are you single?" I ask point blank.

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean," he replies. Right. Idioms.

"I mean, do you have a partner? Wife, husband, girl you're interested in. I know Rara teases you about Talla, but I don't think there's anything there." He snorts.

"You'd be right. No, I don't. A clanless male has few enough prospects as it is, and I'm not particularly attractive, with my old war injuries." Draga taps the jagged edge of his broken horn.

"That's not true!" I insist.

"You wear the signs of your experience with pride. I think that's worth more than base aesthetics, and besides, you're plenty handsome." Sure, I might have judged the broken horn a bit when we first met, but I'm sure any girl with more depth than a puddle could see that Draga is a good man.

"That's kind of you to say, but even if it were true, being a ranger requires too much travel for me to settle down—though I suppose with my future uncertain, that may change."

"I won't let anything happen to you," I swear.

"The Goddess won't allow such injustice to happen in her name, and I'm sure any woman would be lucky to have you."

"Uh, Allie?" Magdalena calls out tentatively.

"Are you hitting on Draga?"

"That's not me," Miss Allison replies.

"Evie, what are you doing?" I snatch another drink from a passing server and throw back a burning mouthful.

"Enjoying myself," I reply under my breath before tuning out their voices and focusing on Draga.

"If others fail to see your worth, then that's their failing—not yours. It just means there's less competition for those of us wise enough to see past status." Draga gives me a long look before sighing and shaking his head.

"I'm honored you feel that way, Miss Evelyn. But the reality is that it was unlikely I'd ever marry from the moment of my birth, and regardless of what happens during the upcoming tribunal, what little chance I may have had will vanish."

"That's not true! I would—""Remember what I said about alcohol and good decisions?" he interrupts.

"I am flattered, truly, but this may be a conversation best had sober." I'm plenty sober! We've barely had two drinks!

"It's because of this body, isn't it?" I ask, finishing the drink and scanning for another.

"You think I'm hideous, and rightly so."

"No, but there's the matter of your other selves, not to mention your age."

"I'm old enough to—!" He holds up a hand to interrupt me.

"I'm only saying that you shouldn't be rushing into things. Take the time to talk things through with your other selves, consider your feelings, and let me consider mine. After all, while I've enjoyed our conversations, we still don't know each other very well yet."

"Fine," I grumble bitterly, ignoring Vi's complaints as I find another drink.

"At least let me keep you company." Draga eyes my glass pensively, then nods.

"Perhaps it would be best if you did." Good enough for me! I'll win him over yet. The others can complain all they like—they're the ones who told me to pursue my own goals, after all.