The week swiftly passed.
Students of the academy were livelier than they ever have been, for today was the day where the academy entered a week-long break—to celebrate the Festival of Foundation.
"For seven days, there will be no class. Whether to head to the Free Ground and join the celebration or not is up to you."
In the higher class chamber, Maren stated to the sixteen students ahead of her.
"Again, do note that the purpose of this festival is to show that the Aetherion Kingdom stands strong. Do note that outside this political reason, we are still in the war against the Solari Kingdom. Think, and act in a way that fits the quality of a higher class student."
Her statement was vague. Isaac interpreted it as her way of saying "be careful."
From the middle, Magnus was found rather excited. His lips were twitching as he suppressed a grin that was trying to form on its own.
Maren saw Magnus and sighed. "You are dismissed," she said.
"Isaac! Vesper!" Magnus immediately erupted. "Festival! Let's go!" Then, he paused awkwardly as he read the atmosphere of the room.
Others weren't reacting the same way he did. Solemn and quiet, they—including Isaac—were in thoughts of their own assessing the situation.
Meanwhile, Maren held her ledger and left the classroom. Isaac watched her leave before turning to where Magnus stood.
"Are you that excited?" Vesper, already by Magnus's side, muttered, saying the exact words that were circulating in Isaac's mind.
"I mean, yeah? Who won't be? No class for the entire week!"
"So that's why you are excited…" Vesper put a hand over his face.
As the two chattered among themselves, Isaac rose from his seat. Checked the current time. Eighth bell, still far from the fourth bell in the afternoon.
He had some time. He could join Magnus and Vesper.
Then,
"I heard quite a bit about you over the past week, Isaac." Cassiopeia, who was sitting on a seat next to his, spoke up without looking at him. "Asking many girls to be your partner. Did you manage to find one?"
Isaac turned. Then, remarked dryly, "No."
He asked Elara last week on whether any of her friends would be willing to be his partner. She asked them in his stead, and gave him a reply that none of them wished to go to the banquet. It was a normal response for the commoners with D-rank skills. They didn't want to stand out or mingle among the noble society that they didn't belong to.
Therefore, in summary, every woman in his proximity were either taken or unwilling. This meant that the only available option to him was to either seek for a total stranger for a partner or devise a way to change the mind of unwilling ones.
He deemed that changing their mind in such a short period of time is impossible. He resorted to the option of asking strangers to be his partner in the banquet—which was, by literal means, blatantly reaching and asking the women whom he walked by, be it nobles or commoners.
Of course, none of them accepted.
Now what? Every time this "partner" problem surfaced, Isaac felt like groaning. He couldn't care less about the banquet, and if given a choice, would've straight away decided not to show up. Unfortunately, the prince made his participation mandatory.
Unaware of these thoughts in his mind, Cassiopeia looked at him flatly. She was stoic as always, akin to the unmoving and just as stoic earth that her house, Terra, represented.
"The banquet isn't limited to Academy enrollment," she then said. "Anyone at the age of seventeen or above is eligible to be your partner, including those in the Free Ground of course."
Isaac nodded. What she said just now was exactly what was crossing in his mind.
"Yes, indeed," he said. Then, he shifted his eyes upon feeling a gaze on him and found Lyra, who was staring at him, knowingly.
Fourth bell, yes. I am aware.
Problem was that he won't have as much time to look for a partner.
"If anything, don't let the rejections affect you," said Cassiopeia, in a monotone but in a demeanor that suggested that she was trying to comfort him, "your appearance isn't an issue here. The primary components are your status and recent fame that you garnered."
Isaac raised an eyebrow. To him, it was unlike her to speak words like this.
"Yes, I am aware," he replied, "thanks, nonetheless."
Cassiopeia gazed at him briefly before returning to her closed notebook on the desk. "Then, I will see you on the day of the banquet."
The conversation concluded as she picked up the notebook and walked out of the room. After giving her the last gaze, Isaac turned walked toward Vesper and Magnus, who have been waiting for him.
The Hearthstone. Free Ground, western quarter. Second table from the back left wall. Fourth bell. First day of the festival. Come alone. The royal guard will identify himself.
Today was the day. There was free time before the fourth bell, but he needed to remain vigilant.
…
Upon walking out of the Academy boundary with Magnus and Vesper, the first thing Isaac noticed was how unrecognizable the Free Ground has gotten.
The geography—the same streets, the same buildings, the same fountain junction where Isaac had performed in the past—was same yet different.
Banners in the kingdom's colors hung from every available fixture. Vendor stalls had multiplied overnight, filling gaps between permanent structures with temporary constructions that smelled of food and dyed cloth and the specific sweet quality of a festival. Musicians occupied corners. Children ran in directions that had nothing to do with any adult's agenda.
The crowd was the largest Isaac had seen in the capital outside the colosseum's broadcast day.
And none of it carried any trace of war. This gave him goosebumps.
The more he experienced the current environment through his skin, and the more he thought of the secret message he received from Lyra, the more surreal the scene at the festival appeared to him.
The assault from the night resurfaced in his mind.
Donaston Terra.
What would he be doing at this time?
They continued to walk through the busy street.
"Is it just me or is the festival's quality better than it was last year?" Magnus vibrantly looked around as he said.
"…I don't know." Vesper, on the other hand, seemed to have similar thoughts as Isaac. "People are aware. You can't fool them. They are…" He paused, as if searching for a word.
"They are?" Magnus chanted questioningly.
"Trying to trick themselves. That in this moment, the war isn't real. They want to genuinely enjoy the festival… although they know the war goes on."
Magnus's grin died. He looked around once more. "Now that you say that… I see it," he said.
"Still," Isaac then spoke, "there is no point in remaining gloomy over a matter that we don't have control on."
"So?" Vesper asked.
"So enjoy the festival," he said, "and help me find a partner for the banquet while you're at it."
The two of them chuckled at that. Then blinked, as Isaac walked out of the line toward someone in his sight.
He stopped in front of a young woman, who was examining a fabric stall with focused attention.
"Excuse me," he said
She looked up. Registered the academy uniform. Then registered the face above it.
"Um… how may I help you?" She said, rather reluctantly.
" I have a proposition." Right away, he got to the point. "I received an invitation to the royal banquet on the seventh day. Attendance requires a formal partner. Would you be willing to attend with me?"
"…What?" The woman stared at him, trying to process what she heard.
At a few steps away, Vesper looked away as if he had found something very interesting to look at on the opposite side of the street.
Magnus, on the other hand, spectated the scene with widened eyes, full of disbelief on Isaac's blatant approach.
"No," the woman at the fabric stall eventually said, politely, in the manner of someone who had not expected this particular interaction to be part of her festival day.
"Understood," Isaac said.
He left the woman and returned to the group.
"It didn't work," he said.
"…Duh," Magnus looked at him with the flat expression of someone trying to pronounce the word "really" with his face. "I mean, you just—you walked up to a complete stranger and asked her to the royal banquet. It'd be a miracle if she accepts it."
"True."
"True my ass!" Magnus erupted, "You need to be more delicate when it comes to women!" He turned to Vesper, "Vesper! Say something!"
"Who are you?" Vesper spoke without turning around, still staring at the opposite side of the street, "I don't know you two. Sorry, but I think you got the wrong guy."
Magnus sighed, visibly amazed—or frustrated—by Isaac's antics, "And they called you a womanizer. I think you're the opposite of that, actually."
"And at the start of the class, I thought you had a way with women." Vesper muttered, "Cassiopeia frequently talks to you—well, maybe it's because you're like this that she talks to you."
"Well," Isaac shrugged, "what should I do then?"
Throughout his life, he has never thought much about the "ways" with women. He didn't have the luxury to think about it either.
He used to be engaged in the past, but there was nothing romantic involved. Being politically aware and socially amicable were two different things. He knew that objectively speaking, he wasn't socially amicable.
Magnus looked at Vesper, asking what they should do with Isaac with his eyes. Vesper's expression had the specific quality of someone who had been second-hand embarrassed.
"If we let him be, he will continue doing this," said Magnus.
Vesper closed his eyes briefly.
"We may need to re-think the approach," After a moment, Vesper said, "no, not 'may,' but 'must.'"
Isaac then watched as the two huddled up and began discussing on their own. Unfortunately for them, he could hear it all thanks to his senses that were augmented through [The Prism].
"If he's fine with it, we can try to ask my auntie to be his partner."
"How old is she?"
"Forty-nine."
"No. I can guarantee you that before Isaac rejects, she will reject the idea first."
"Then what?"
"Asking strangers is fine as long as he knows how to initiate a conversation. We help him with that."
Isaac chuckled, all while wondering if his approach really was the problem here, rather than his status.
Eventually, the two ended their secret discussion.
"Alright, Isaac, this is what's going to happen now." Magnus, with a solemn expression, placed his hand on Isaac's shoulder, "we go to a pub."
…
Hours passed. Long-put-short, Isaac wasn't able to find a partner.
"It looks like…" Vesper yawned, appearing tired, "even with our help, women get scared away."
"By my status."
"No—well… yes, kind of."
Magnus appeared worse off than hours before, with dark bags under his eyes. "I suppose that's what the title of Nameless does to people. Sometimes, they don't care. Sometimes, they can't be bothered. Sometimes, they are scared by it." He looked up, at the bright sky above. "Man, it's still bright and lively, but I already am too exhausted to continue."
"It's fine. Thanks for the help," said Isaac, "I will figure it out from here on." He then added, "I managed to learn a thing or two from you guys."
Vesper stared at him reluctantly, "Are you sure about that?"
"Yes."
"Well… if you say so." He nodded, "anyway, I think I will be off now. Will you two be present during the dinner?"
"Probably not," grinned Magnus, "there are so many eateries out here. I need to enjoy these."
"I can't," said Isaac, shaking his head, "I have something to attend to."
Vesper looked at the two. Nodded. "Alright then. If you need to see me though, you know where to find me."
"See you later then!" Magnus waved.
Isaac nodded. As the three parted, he turned and began walking in the direction of the Free Ground's western quarter.
…
The western quarter had the specific quality of a district that served the festival at a different register from the central and eastern area of the Free Ground.
The stalls were fewer and the establishments were older. The crowd was present but thinner, and the effect of the festival was less evident.
Isaac walked through the street alone.
The Hearthstone was on the quarter's main street, at the ground floor of a, rather, worn-out building. The sign above the door was plain. The door itself was open, and the sound of the festival's ambient noise in the street mixed with the interior's just-as-loud noise.
Isaac entered through the open entrance.
The inside was dim relative to the afternoon outside. Although it was a bar, the festival seemed to have filled the place with numerous people even under the broad daylight.
Isaac inspected the place. Round tables. Worn chairs. The smell of something being cooked in a back room that had been cooking things in that back room for a long time.
The Hearthstone. Free Ground, western quarter. Second table from the back left wall. Fourth bell. First day of the festival. Come alone. The royal guard will identify himself.
"Hello, good sir! How may I help you?" A waiter approached Isaac who was standing still.
Isaac nodded, "I have a company."
Just then,
"Hey, Isaac!"
Someone was calling his name, exactly from the second table from the back left wall. Both Isaac and the waiter turned toward the person.
There was a man seated.
Mid-thirties. Broad build—not with the lean efficiency meant for speed but with the solid density of someone who had been in sustained physical service. He was in plain clothing as he smiled widely, waving lively.
"It's this way!"
That man had to be Henrick whom he was notified of.