"Happy New Year, Rosegate!"
The loud voice rolled over the square like a wave.
Adult cheered, kids yelled back, and fireworks cracked somewhere around the city. The air smelled like grilled meat, and spilled beer.
"Are you ready for the Grand Festival?"
The crowd roared.
"Then get your eyes on the stage and your hands ready to clap!
From Starfall Company, we proudly present tonight's main show… My Princess!"
The crowd roared again.
The curtains on the floating stage shivered, then began to part.
Colored fire shot out in a ring around the platform, and the music kicked in with fast drums and bright flutes.
From the back, someone gave a sharp whistle.
Lena jumped out.
She spun into the center of the stage in a bright jester outfit, bells ringing on her hat and sleeves.
Her face was painted white with a red tear under one eye, and she carried a wooden cane shaped like a toy scepter.
She planted the cane, bowed deep to the crowd, then threw her arms wide.
"You came to rescue the princess? Too late. So, so late.
The villain already stole her heart, her crown, and her pocket money."
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Someone threw confetti, which Lena caught midair, crushed in her fist, then blew out as glitter.
From the dark near the front row, a man in a worn coat snorted.
Roland, the host from before, watched from the shadow of a support pillar, one hand on the rope that ran up into the ceiling.
His eyes moved over the crowd.
He tugged the rope twice.
On the balcony built onto the stage, an actor in a silver wig stepped out, dressed in long white robes.
He leaned on the railing, lips curled.
"Jester, do not speak so lightly. This lord took what's his.
And the prince? He's nothing in front of me."
The crowd booed on cue. Lena rolled her eyes.
"Nothing?"
He is late, that is true. But nothing?
No, no, Your Majesty.
He is at least… one and a half inches bigger than yours."
The band hit the drum at the same time.
Roland looked up to the catwalks.
High in the rigging, Zack crouched on a narrow wooden plank.
Half his face was in shadow, and the other half was painted like a prince, a thin gold line at the brow, a faint red slash at the cheek, and a playful smirk fixed in place.
He flexed his fingers, then squeezed the small brass token in his palm.
"Realize."
[Realization Points: -1]
A short shimmer ran over the token, then a thin hook formed at its end.
'It should be my turn soon. Roland said it's when she says fire.'
On stage, Lena spun the cane.
"But really, our prince is hopeless.
If he wants to save the princess now, he will need fire strong enough to burn lies, a sword sharp enough to cut fate, and a brain that works at least once a year."
She looked straight toward the crowd and pointed the cane at the sky.
"Well then, let us see some fire!"
At that word, thin pillars of colored flame shot up from the ground, timed with a boom from a hidden drum.
The heat washed over the nearest benches, and the audience shouted in delight.
At the same instant, Zack moved.
He hooked the rope above him with the metal hook, stepped off the plank, and jumped.
For a heartbeat, he fell straight down. Then the rope shot through the air.
He caught it, swung, and flew out over the crowd.
People screamed in surprise, then cheered as he spun twice in the air.
Zack twisted his body, flipped once more just to make it cooler, and landed in a superhero landing on the edge of the stage.
He rose in one smooth motion. Wind blew his cape while his sword pointed forward.
The crowd clapped and whistled.
He swept his blade toward the balcony where the King stood, then pointed it straight at the villain.
"Your atrocities end here! Traitor,
I will rescue the princess and return peace to the continent."
The King gasped, pressing a hand to his chest.
"You? A defeated rat with a toy sword? You dare challenge me?"
Lena hopped up beside Zack, then leaned close.
"Of course he dares!
He also forgets his lines, eats on stage, and owes me three hundred credits.
But he's brave enough to return, so I support him."
Zack tilted his head.
"Three hundred credits? I bought you fried noodles yesterday."
"You spilled half on my boots."
"That's your fault, and I call it seasoning. Do you know you can eat leather?"
Laughter broke out again as the band hit the drum.
Zack leaped forward, his sword coming down in a slash.
The King parried with a long, curved staff.
CLANG!!!
Sparks flew each time they clashed, and they clashed again and again, driving the crowd's excitement higher.
Every move was planned, but Zack added extra flair.
He ducked, spun a step, and flashed the crowd a grin as he slipped past a strike that would never hit him.
Lena charged from the side, holding the cane like a rapier.
"En garde, villain! Taste the power of underpaid side characters!"
The King yelped and spun to block her. Zack slipped behind him, tapped his shoulder with the flat of his sword, then hopped back.
"Watch your back. You know I could have cut your head off."
The King then yelled, right on cue.
"Guards! Stop that rogue! Protect our princess!"
Four knights in polished armor rushed onto the stage from the right.
The crowd cheered.
"Suncrest Knights!"
"Sun-crest! Sun-crest!"
"Show them what a real fight looks like!"
Up on the real palace balcony, higher above the festival square, Rose watched without expression.
She wore silver armor.
Her gaze passed over the stage, the fake king, the fake knights, and then settled on the real royal box behind her.
Inside that box, the Queen sat wearing a ceremonial dress.
A white gown with layers of white and gold.
Beside her, palace officials whispered and smiled for the crowd.
"The play is good. It seems the people like it. What do you think, Captain?"
Rose replied with a silent nod without looking at him.
The Queen looked toward her.
"Rose, the princess is late. Look for her."
"Yes, my Queen."
Rose bowed, then left the terrace.
Below, Zack used Lena's cane as a tool to vault over two on-stage knights.
He landed on a table, kicked a goblet into the air, and caught it on the tip of his sword.
The crowd gave another clap.
Behind the stage, in a corridor that led toward the real palace, a different knight moved in a hurry.
Sweat ran under his collar as he counted doors while he walked.
"Room three, guard post. Room four, storage. Room five, royal rooms."
He stopped at the last one, adjusted his grip on the tray he carried, and knocked gently.
"Your Highness? It is already time for your appearance."
There was no answer.
He frowned and knocked again.
"Your Highness? We are already late."
Still no answer.
From the stage, a cheer rose as Zack kicked the King off balance and Lena smacked him with the jester cane.
The music became louder.
The knight glanced down the hall, then tried the door handle.
Creak….
The room inside was empty.
The dressing table was neat, but the chair was pushed back. The window shutters were half open.
The knight gulped.
He had come here with a purpose.
It was a deal of a lifetime that would let him live in wealth.
He had been paid to prepare for a "simple switch," where the fake princess would be swapped with the real one before the real escape act.
He set the tray down, then moved to the window.
Outside, the festival lights painted the stone in warm colors.
From here, he could see the stage and the crowd. He could see the royal box below the tower balcony, but he couldn't see the princess anywhere.
On the stage, Roland sneaked a look at the higher balcony. He frowned.
'It's about time. Where is he?'
On stage, Zack raised his sword.
"Your schemes end tonight, traitor!"
The crowd chanted his name.
"Zack! Zack! Zack!"
Lena spun behind him and struck a proud pose, one foot on a fallen knight.
On the rooftop, in a spot no one could see, the princess was crouched and slowly moving along the edge near the roofline.
Her black hood was blown by the wind.
She looked down at the height and gulped.
"C'mon. You can do this, Celia. You planned this for months."