Chapter 147: Siren's Call

Chapter 147: Siren's Call

Erec was familiar with cards, but what struck him as odd was all the other games at play—tables with dice, the flashing machines with spinning symbols, and the odd red and black wheels. Erec found out the flashing machines were called ‘slots,’ but that explained nothing at all. This was a casino, and to Erec’s eyes, it would be better if it didn’t exist. The way people aggressively placed bets, winning but mostly losing them. It couldn’t have been good for them.

The hollow look in their eyes reflected those spinning lights. All the while, men and women dressed skimpily went around serving drinks. They made it a point to bring free ones to the people with the most chips; the actual attendants for the games wore slacks, dress shirts, and vests. Intentionally not a distraction from the games in front of the people.

Most intoxicating was the atmosphere all around. It was like a live wire, the people screaming, shouting, some of them even crying. In the back in the dark, a couple were making out while seated in front of the slot machines.

[To think, out of all the places, Vegas would be the quickest to return to normalcy. When it comes to vices, your humans are quite resilient, and gambling is one of the older traditions. Still, for it to have so persevered is surprising.]

Garin let out a whistle as he looked around. The rest of the Knights were arriving in small waves from the elevator. The Magi had put up the Pendragons in an entirely different casino, but they’d be meeting up again soon enough.

“There is a distinct lack of decorum in this place, but I will admit I’m impressed with the unique aesthetic,” Olivia said.

“It looks like a lot of fun. Did you wanna check out one of these when we get through the meeting?” Garin asked.

“I wouldn’t be opposed, but we’ll have to ask Erec and Enide; they were the ones who proposed this double date. I will say I’m eager to get to know her more. She’s been avoiding one-on-one conversations with me. Do you happen to know why, Erec?”

“She doesn’t do what she doesn’t want to,” Erec said. It wasn’t better to sugar-coat it, and Olivia knew how she’d come across. That girl was as the wind was, and no one would control her. That’s what he found captivating about her, more than anything else, and was a part of her he wanted to reflect within himself, and strove to learn.

“A shame. Life often requires such sacrifices... For one, I think this dress is painfully gaudy, yet I must wear it for the occasion. Perhaps that’s a lesson she might learn from you.” Olivia did a slight twirl in said dress. She wasn’t wrong. While the men were given suits—similar to a longstanding old-world style, the women of the group were a bit more varied in their provided clothes.

And gaudy was an apt description. The dress she wore was gold and sparkly, and shorter on the hemline than was typical of her rather demur and refined preferences. As Gwen arrived, Erec noticed she wore a very similar type of dress, but with silver instead of gold. The old women in the group—Dame Morgana, Juliana, and Robin—were provided with altogether different styles, but the commonality in them was deep slits going up the leg and a lot of skin on display on the back.

For Dame Juliana, this revealed a canvas of battle scars.

The fashion was... Not all that practical for the realities of the wasteland. Which, he supposed, was the same in the high courts. That was the point, an elaborate display among others that didn’t take heed of danger; a signal of safety and to be flashy.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the Knights to arrive. And not soon after, a man made his way through the floor of the casino and gave them a deep bow. He wore a suit, but also one of those dark blue half-cloaks they’d seen before. His hair was buzzed, and when he looked up, there was a smile on his face.

“It is the council’s pleasure to host the first diplomatic delegation from the Kingdom of Cindrus. I can see that everyone from your party is here, and am delighted to act as your liaison and guide for the duration of your visit to our beautiful city. Should you encounter any problems, ask for Magi Lucas Silfon; otherwise, if you have questions, you may usually find me within the Vene Casino. I take it we’re prepared to attend the first event tonight?” Lucas said.

“Aye, I think we are,” Boldwick said.

“Wonderful. One last request—I’ve been informed by the Arch Magi that they wish for your Armor to stay within your rooms for the duration of your visit to this city. They’ve concluded that the sight of it, and the association with your Kingdom is a bit too much of a disturbance to permit.”

“It’s vital to note the differences between cultures and their values. With that in mind, Colin. What do you see here?” the Duke asked his son, killing the silence on their balcony.

“This is clearly entertainment. Quite extravagant, of course. As it’s public, I’d wager it’s a way to impress the lower classes and their social peers? Similar to how we hold balls and events,” Colin replied.

“In a way, that’s accurate. But, of course, they charge for seats and this place has a reputation of its own. When a King throws a ball, you’re aware of the family whose power it represents—how lascivious they make dictates their perceived status. Here, that’s not completely the case. The venue itself is the statement of wealth, and the goal and incentive in holding it isn’t a net loss of funding to impress but to attract wealthy individuals to part with their wealth. Who is in charge of the operation?”

“...Peasants?”

“The Magi. That’s how we got our invitation and access.”

“So it is a display of power,” Colin said, rubbing his eyes. His gaze kept shifting about as he spoke, taking in details no one else could see. To his father, it must’ve looked like he was showing good decorum and evaluating, but Erec knew it wasn’t the case. There must be some magic afoot.

“Not so. It’s a means of generating power—wealth appears to rule this city, and wealth is allowed to rule the city because the most powerful are likely to find themselves the most wealthy. They provide safety and functionality and leverage it into high status, backed by the power of their chips. So, they run establishments like this both to entertain themselves, make a statement, and deepen their own pockets. I doubt that much is done in this city in the name of public spending and it’d be interesting to examine their taxation, especially given how often money appears to change hands at their casinos. Pay attention to these things.”

“Of course,” Colin agreed. Which was shocking. He didn’t opt to find something to fight about. But it must’ve been him trying to study the magic.

Their conversation faded away as the curtains drew open, revealing a single woman on the stage. Her costume was elaborate, set with wide white wings behind her back like that of an angel. She took in the crowd, then sang.

Her voice echoed through the theater, a product of sound magic. Harmony thrived in her notes as they spun out like clouds from the heavens. The very words wrapped around Erec, tightening and forcing an image into his head as her lyrics went from floaty to telling a story of sorrow and loss. Not a single other voice chimed up as the song took grip, becoming a tangible, powerful thing that clutched their hearts and led them along.

Something was wrong.

The hair on Erec’s back stood up as the fires of Fury stirred. It lashed back against the serenade and song, and the image of a White Stag flashed across his mind. He broke out in a cold sweat, standing up as his muscles tensed.

Anger burned in him.

There was nothing to be angry at—in contrast, everyone seemed enthralled and delighted by her tone. But he couldn’t stand it. Not a second long.

Dame Robin stood, grabbed him, and shoved some of the cotton balls in his hand, pointing to her ears. Erec stuffed them in his own, dampening the sound, and the words lost their hold.

Taking a deep sigh of relief, he settled back in his chair. The singer transfixed all of those around, aside from Dame Juliana and Robin. Now him, as well. Her Talent had a way of transporting the mind with her words, but it wasn’t enjoyable for him, not anymore. As much as the rest might like it, the wounds left in his Psyche by the Stag were far too great. He settled in for the show, protected by the cotton.

While everyone else watched the Siren’s performance, he slipped back to looking at Enide. Treasuring the smile she wore. Letting it be the drive to carry him through the rest of this event.