Chapter 14: The winter festival The Month of Noel, Day 25, Year 681 of the Second Holy CalendarThe winter festival was held in honor of multiple gods who had their respective feast days but were especially honored during this time. Someone once told Oliver that Christmas wasn't actually on the 25th of December because Christ wasn’t born on that day. Even if Christ had existed, no one really knew when he was born, so it was impossible to pinpoint his birthday. However, the 25th had already been a festival day dedicated to multiple Roman gods and coincided with the Roman version of the winter festival. Thus, Christmas simply became the new winter festival.

  Simir festivals were held all over the world, even before people could have known about Christ—such as Panquetzaliztli, which was celebrated from December 6th to 26th.

  Dominic didn’t know how it was in other parts of this world, but in the Kingdom of Bck, the winter festival marked the end of the social season. During the season, many events were held by private nobles; however, only four official events were held by the state. The Festival of Noel Foundation and the winter hunt were among these. The winter hunt was a tradition passed down from ancient times, during which the government hunted various monsters.

  Monster biology was an interesting topic. Monsters were separated into two groups: the Unholy races and the monsters. Monsters were generally spawned from the Praxis Curse; they had no biology, reproductive instincts, or capabilities. It was said that they simply came from nothing—or from the Curse. The only thing they did was consume, as they required meat to survive.

  Monsters had what were called Monster Domains—areas where the Praxis Curse had infected the nd. Within these, monsters engaged in what was known as the "cycle of monsters": weaker ones spawned and consumed one another, becoming stronger in the process. The strongest would rise to dominance, while new weak monsters would continue to appear and be consumed. These cursed nds produced increasingly powerful monsters, and nothing else lived there.

  This was the main reason why the Western Continent, discovered almost 1,500 years ago, remained politically impotent until recently. The ancient monster domains that dominated it required immense amounts of money and resources to clear. Even now, many isnds and isoted parts of the continent remained overrun.

  Monsters did sometimes spawn outside the domains, but they were far weaker and easier to handle. In fact, there were certain advantages to keeping low-level monster domains around. Materials harvested from monsters were useful for various items, and they were one of the primary sources of magic gemstones.

  The Unholy races, by contrast, did form proper societies—some even advanced ones—but for the most part, they engaged in destruction. They were too unintelligent and backward to do anything else. Of course, this distinction didn’t matter much to the average vilger. Whether your farm was destroyed by a goblin or a monster, the result was the same: your home was gone, and your family was dead.

  The winter hunt was held partly to reduce the monster and Unholy race poputions, especially during winter, when scarce resources made them more likely to attack civilians. It was an ancient tradition, rgely outdated, but still practiced out of custom—and because hunting remained a sport.

  The winter festival itself was a deeply religious ceremony steeped in tradition. It was so spiritual that even Nora, despite her status and protests, had to wear a dress. Once again, Dominic found himself reflecting that this world didn’t have Twitter. Sitting in the waiting room with his sister and mother was like trying to sleep on a bed of needles.

  Nora sat to his left, and Luce to his right. The two were pretending the other didn’t exist—probably because Nora was hoarse and Luce was tired of fighting. Meanwhile, Valerius did his best to pretend he was a piece of furniture.

  “At least he’s not drunk or high,” Dominic thought sarcastically, and he might have commented to Nora if she hadn’t been so pissed off.

  The argument had started when Nora found out she’d be required to wear a dress. She hated all feminine clothing and refused. But it was mandatory that she attend in a dress. She made the unwise comment that she just wouldn’t participate, suggesting Dominic could go for both of them, since he was better at social niceties anyway.

  That’s when Luce found out that Nora’s etiquette teacher hadn’t even taught her how to curtsy in a dress—she only knew how to give a formal nobleman’s bow. This was a major oversight, since she was expected to wear a dress at certain events and should have known how to curtsy.

  But that was only the beginning. Nora used the oversight to try and excuse herself from the event, while again ciming Dominic was better at handling formalities. This set Luce off on a tirade of compints—mostly aimed at Dominic for "spoiling" Nora, and at Nora for being inattentive in her studies and generally misbehaving.

  Luce’s accusations about Dominic spoiling Nora triggered a legendary shouting match between an 8-year-old and a fully grown woman that sted over two hours. It ended with Luce dragging Nora over her knee and spanking her at least a hundred times. She would’ve kept going if Dominic hadn’t brought in Valerius to intervene—by that point, she was just venting.

  To no one’s surprise (except maybe Luce’s), Nora wasn’t calmed by the spanking. She only grew more furious, and the shouting resumed. It wasn’t until Dominic pointed out that they had just two hours left until the event—and that those hours would be better spent teaching Nora how to curtsy than screaming at each other—that Luce finally calmed down.

  Which started a new round of issues: Luce saw Dominic’s suggestion as him defending Nora from her wrath, while Nora saw him as her new drill sergeant. Still, they managed to review Nora’s etiquette, though it didn’t improve either of their moods.

  All the while, Valerius kept pretending to be a statue. Dominic, meanwhile, internally asked where the great war hero who beat the Golden Stallion had gone.

  “Today is the day of family,” Dominic said. “Let’s appreciate that we’re all still alive. We survived the Golden Stallion’s invasion. We were led to victory by our brave Sir Valerius. Nora and I survived the assassination attempt. We could all be dead right now, so let’s thank Noel for our blessings.”

  “Dominic, today is the day celebrating Sia, not Noel,” Luce said chidingly—but she softened slightly. Nora still looked upset but gave Dominic a small nod.

  At that moment, both Dominic and Nora turned to gre at Valerius, who immediately looked away.

  “Hey, Luce, isn’t Dominic a bit too—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  Dominic ignored his parental figures and snatched Luce’s watch from her pocket.

  “Dominic, don’t just steal people’s things,” she said, exasperated.

  “We need to get going right about now,” he said.

  Luce grabbed her watch back and checked it.

  “Well, no time like the present,” Valerius said, strolling over to the door.

  They left the detached pace and walked through the corridors until they reached the courtyard of the Citadel. Their long train of attendants and guards made them look more like a tour group than a family headed to church.

  They had to leave the Citadel to reach the Temple of Sia—unlike the Temple of Noel, which was directly connected. This time, they weren’t riding in a carriage; they walked on foot to the temple.

  The Temple of Sia taught that all humans were equal in Sia’s eyes, as they were her beloved children. Unfortunately, that generosity did not extend to non-humans, whom they saw as threats or subhuman. They were so racist they didn’t even believe in ensving these people—only in exterminating them.

  Dominic decided that if he ever gained political power, he’d do everything he could to suppress the Temple of Sia. Not because he cared about their genocides, but because he felt they had personally wronged him.

  The Temple of Sia was nothing compared to the Temple of Noel—at least not in Lepetra—but it was still an impressive structure. Its central hall was massive and rectangur, with plenty of galleries and seating for over 20,000 people. Dominic and company were escorted to a special box, where they found the rest of the royal family already waiting.

  Howard immediately started gring at Luce, who gred right back. Their escorts stood a few steps behind while the rest of the royal family clustered near the railing of the box.

  Luce separated from them to stand with her own family—after all, she wasn’t Valerius’s wife. Valerius stopped to say hello to his not-father-in-w. Peterson Belmont was a cunning and ruthless arms merchant—by Earth standards, a war profiteer. But to Dominic, he was just the jolly old grandfather.

  He always thought of him as fat, but due to magic seemingly preventing weight gain in this world, he wasn’t at all. Still, every time Dominic saw him, he was surprised by the man’s ck of girth.

  “It’s going to be an enjoyable next couple of hours,” Dominic whispered to Nora before being shuffled over to stand next to Veronica. She looked at him, and he looked at her, feeling that same familiar loathing.

  The royal family stood in complete silence, exchanging only cold gres. Come on, you’re the matriarch, Veronica. You should say something, Dominic thought, but didn’t dare speak aloud.

  In a traditional noble house, the matriarch or patriarch held absolute power over the rest of the family. That tradition was fading, though. In House Bck, Valerius held the real power, and the militant faction arguably had more influence than Veronica. Since she didn’t engage in politics, she was politically impotent and had few allies. That made Dominic feel slightly better about her.

  The ceremony carried on with the priest of Sia in Lepetra giving a long-winded speech about Sia’s grace and glory—how she blessed mankind and defended them from the darkness. The speech dragged on and on. Dominic honestly felt it took several hours to say nothing about a story everyone already knew.

  When it finally ended, the congregation sang a song simir to “Silent Night,” except this one was about the light and glory of the Great Mother Goddess rather than the birth of Jesus Christ. Dominic was left with the distinct impression that members of the Catholic Church had founded the Temple of Sia.

  After that, the nobles began filing out to the next major event of the night—thankfully, one that had nothing to do with the Temple of Sia. The commoners followed, choosing either a night of partying or one of pious prayer.

  Dominic and Nora were separated from their father and escorted off to a separate waiting room with all of the other noble children. The winter festival was also a chance for every noble house that had gathered in the city of Lepetra to show off their children to the Noble Society. It was a valuable opportunity for the Noble Society to assess which houses were raising their heirs properly and which were not, and more importantly, to establish connections early. Noble society was simir to a cartel, and building long-term connections between houses through marriage, adoption, and just spending time with each other was arguably the most important thing about being a noble.

  The noble houses putting their children on dispy took the form of a music contest, where each of the noble children would py a song for an assembled audience of all of the important people in the nation—for the future and the glory of their noble house. Only small amounts of pressure were put on these six to 12-year-old children. In fact, the pressure was so small that Luce had gripped Dominic and Nora’s shoulders so hard Dominic thought his bones would break, and told them to put on their best performance. She was so lovely about it, she only implied the “or else.”

  "I'm seriously getting tired of all these events; I just want things to go back to normal,” Nora compined to a group of friends. Some of them nodded, while others looked like they weren't convinced. But Dominic understood what she was talking about.

  “This is the st event,” he said, seeing she was still frustrated. “Just get through this and it will be over.”

  Several of the children looked at him, some with concern, some with curiosity. Dominic was starting to get the real feeling that his sister ruled her group of friends like a tyrant, and so they were concerned she would sh out in rage at him.

  Nora shrugged. “Just singing one st song and the show's over, but I'm not a fat dy,” Nora said with a genuine note of concern.

  “I believe that idiom was referring to our cousin Antonia.” There was a moment of silence, and then Nora started ughing. Dominic breathed a sigh of relief as he had successfully avoided the ndmine of his sister finding out that Antonia went st.

  The person who got to py their music first went in order of rank and seniority. So members of the royal family went st. Among them, Antonia was the eldest, so she would go st. Nora would go second, and Anton would go third. And Dominic would go st. Nora would normally be upset about this, but Dominic managed to divert her attention ahead of time without even trying that hard.

  The event organizer walked over. “Your Highness, I would like to ask you which instrument you would like to use tonight.”

  Dominic gnced around the room. Among the children, some seemed confident while others were clearly nervous. The ones looking more nervous were from poorer noble families who couldn't afford private music teachers and custom-made instruments for their children to learn. It didn't help matters that people in the Kingdom of Bck would always value swords over songs, and their children's education reflected that.

  “I would like to use the violin, but I do have a question for you, sir.”

  “Go ahead and ask away,” the event organizer said while writing something on his clipboard.

  “Is it all right if my sister and I switch pces?” The event organizer looked startled, and Nora gnced over.

  “You want to switch pces, Flick?”

  “Yes, if it's all right with you, elder sister, and the event organizer.”

  “Well, it's totally okay as long as both of you agree,” the event organizer said, a bit uncomfortable.

  Nora thought about it for a moment before shrugging and saying, “It's all right with me,” and going right back to her conversation. Dominic stared at her back for a moment, thinking.

  Antonia came over and began subtly jabbing at Nora for switching pces with Dominic until Nora threatened to cut her head off with her sword. Whoever decided to give Nora a sword and let her carry it around with her should probably be put in jail—although this world didn't really have the concept of jail. Criminals were just sold into svery for a certain number of years or executed.

  They started calling out names, beginning with a baron’s daughter, the youngest, timid little girl who actually shared the same birthday as Dominic and Nora. But that wasn't a divine omen, of course.

  Only about 60 children from the titled noble families were able to participate, as registered noble families weren’t. But it still took three hours for every child to sing a three-minute song, and so the children started to get anxious and fidgety.

  Luckily, they were all noble children trained since birth in manners and etiquette. Of course, they wouldn't start throwing temper tantrums in public. But they began to get irritated—particurly Nora, who wasn't good at waiting at the best of times, much less when she was already irritated.

  As her turn got closer and closer, she realized that Dominic would be left alone with Antonia and Anton, and so again whispered instructions on how to win a fist fight, even telling him about Antonia's weakness. She also went over and threatened Antonia. Dominic waved his sister off with a smile as she left to take her turn.

  Once she was gone, Antonia did in fact come over.

  “So you switched with your sister. That must mean you have more ability than her and you want to show off.”

  “You're only half wrong, cousin,” Dominic thought, smiling at her. Why he wanted to go after her was that people tended to remember the st performance the most. Dominic was confident that he was better than Nora; she actually had skill, but she cked passion for the musical arts. Dominic didn't know how much showing off his cultured side would help in the succession war, but there was no point in not trying.

  “Oh no, I'm actually quite nervous myself,” he said with a shrug.

  “So then why did you take it from your sister?” she asked with the rustle of skirts. “I'm ever so curious.”

  Dominic smiled at her, not giving her a straight answer. Anton went next, following Nora’s. He went over to wish him luck and whisper something in his ear. Judging by the look on his face, it was probably a threat.

  After he left, Antonia came back over and began bothering Dominic again, but he just responded appropriately and ignored her. He wasn't scared of impending violence, even though he couldn't defend himself, because he understood Antonia well enough. She was the type of female petty tyrant who ruled in many American high schools. However, those types of tyrants often relied on something like their family's wealth or the popurity of their boyfriend to maintain their rule. Such a person wouldn't possibly risk violence against Dominic, not with the risk of seriously provoking someone like Nora. It just wasn't in their nature—as the rule is, to be a tyrant, you had to be a coward.

  Finally, Dominic's turn came. As usual, the moment he walked through the doors, he became the center of attention, all eyes focusing on him. He strolled through them even more confidently than he had before. He felt bolstered by having survived an assassination attempt. He was secure in the knowledge that the city was entirely under the control of the First Division and, therefore, under his faction's control.

  He climbed up the dais in the back of the hall. This was the ballroom of the Royal Pace. Usually, there would be plenty of room for people to dance gracefully throughout the hall, but now it was lined with seats like they were in the middle of a high school musical.

  A different event organizer handed him the violin, which was requested in a size down for a child's use.

  Back in grade school, Oliver had a rival from a wealthy family with whom they had competed for influence in the css, although neither knew or understood why they were cshing in the first pce. One day, she had bragged that she knew how to py the violin and gave a solo performance at show and tell, and challenged Oliver to do the same.

  Of course, Oliver was too poor to pay for lessons or musical instruments of any kind. But Oliver was already an incredibly proud and arrogant child and so decided to show up his rival.

  He and a few of his “friends” had gone to a music store run by an old man where they “borrowed” a violin from his store while he wasn't paying attention. Oliver had then used free online videos to teach himself the violin. It had taken two months and countless hours, but finally, he was able to perform at an adequate level to show up his rival.

  To be completely honest, neither Oliver nor Dominic had any talent for musical instruments, but Oliver had the determination not to be defeated by anybody, and so spent countless hours learning by heart multiple violin songs. His music teachers were wrong; he didn't have any talent, and he certainly wasn't a prodigy—he just had prior experience.

  When Dominic was handed his violin, he performed with a musician's bow. It was a tradition in this world for the bow of a performer to take pce before the performance and not after it. A musician's bow usually involved their instrument if it was small enough to be carried and was different from a nobleman's bow. In this case, he held his violin with one hand—something he'd been taught not to do under any other circumstances—while holding it with his other hand out to one side before arching his back to the crowd. Once again, four-fifths of the audience began to appud him, while the other fifth ignored him even more deafeningly than they did before.

  When Dominic sat down, he smiled to himself. The culture of the Kingdom of Bck only valued two types of songs: ones about sex and ones about heroism, which made picking a song rather difficult. A six-year-old couldn't sing a song about sex. It would just be weird, and the only people who would appreciate it would be pedophiles. So the only songs left to sing were ones about heroism.

  So Dominic had selected a song simir to “Achilles, Come Down.” The song's protagonist was Leothorn—basically this world's version of Achilles. He had killed a lot of people and was overall an invincible warrior, but struggled with his mental health and eventually ended his own life. Of course, in the song, he didn't just succumb to his depression; he instead killed himself romantically and tragically to rejoin his lost love—because everything has to be romanticized in legend.

  The song was notoriously difficult to py as a violin solo and should ideally be performed by two or even three violinists. Still, Dominic was going to py it solo because he'd been practicing it for two years. As he began to py, he felt the muscle memory take over as always, and he just let it carry him through the whole song—even when he started to sing.

  One talent that Oliver cked, but Dominic certainly possessed, was singing. Dominic had a fantastic voice for singing, but Oliver sounded like a dying chicken. Dominic closed his eyes and began to sing.