Chapter 1073 — Convergence

Cecil Year 3, the 15th day of the Month of Revival, the Festival of Revival.

That all-important international conference had finally been set for the sixth day after the end of the Festival of Revival holidays, and the nearness of the date lent this year's festival a significance all its own—from the first of the month, government offices at every level had launched a full-scale publicity campaign, explaining to the citizenry in the plainest terms they could manage the great international event about to unfold and the role the Empire would play in it, so that even the least informed soul knew of the matter; and those of a more poetic bent linked the conference with the Month of Revival and began to harbor a few pleasant hopes for the future.

As the great scholar Godwin Orlando had written in one newspaper: this world was about to end its history of separation and estrangement; peoples who should have stood shoulder to shoulder would truly unite as one this spring. It was the first ray of sunlight after winter's end, as warm as this very spring.

Meanwhile, as the conference drew near, this year's Festival of Revival in Xuanyao City brought other changes from years past—more foreign faces appeared in the city, bringing more news of distant lands.

In truth, Xuanyao City had never lacked foreign faces. As the world's first magitech city and its first open, international metropolis, Xuanyao City's peerless treasury of technology and its incredible commercial order had always drawn guests with keen eyes and keen noses; travelers from afar seeking knowledge and gold came in an endless stream. Especially after the completion of several trunk railways of the Empire, the cost of travel for foreign visitors entering Cecil had fallen greatly, so that even the gray elf merchants once so rare in the southern territories had become regulars in the imperial capital. One could say, then, that a kaleidoscope of outlanders was itself one of the hallmarks of Cecil's capital.

What set this year's Festival of Revival apart was that guests from even farther away had appeared in the city.

In the central district, the shopping street was hung with lanterns and bunting; citizens adorned their shops and streets with colored drapery and every sort of neon light, and symbols celebrating the warmth of spring and praying for a year of plenty were hung on lampposts and building facades, blending the air of tradition and modernity into a strange harmony. Children ran joyfully up and down the street, their laughter echoing through every lane and alley.

A pair of pale yellow, feline eyes glinted beneath a white hood, observing this incredible human city with lively interest. The face around those eyes was covered in fine, soft brown and white fur, and beneath the fur was traced a woman's face—rugged, yet touched with a certain gentleness. When she saw a street "mage" casually fling a string of colored light-bolts into the sky, sending the surrounding children into cheers, that face, blending feline and human woman alike, could not help showing a look of some surprise, and the catlike vertical pupils widened slightly.

"This is truly incredible," came a slightly hoarse voice from beneath the hood. "Wenna, I never imagined the human world had so many mages—enough to stand on the street and perform magic missiles for children."

A figure small as a child stood beside this "feline lady," and at those words strained to look up at her nearly two-meter-tall "childhood playmate." "Camilla, you've got it wrong—that's no mage. He's most likely an entertainer hired by one of the shops nearby, maybe even a clerk. And that's no real magic either, just low-power light-bolts fired from a magitech terminal."

As she spoke, this petite lady—Wenna Baizhi, chieftain of the gray elves—shook her head. "The Cecil Empire doesn't have more mages than we do. If you counted our witch doctors and priests, Cecil would have fewer than Augulei. But their magitech is highly advanced; anyone holding a magitech terminal is at least the equal of an apprentice or low-ranking mage. Of course, I hear Typhon's community of mages is enormous—that's the sort of place where you might see mages performing in the streets..."

The tall "feline lady" called Camilla looked astonished. "You know a great deal—didn't you say the gray elves have only ever dealt with the Cecil people of the western territories, and don't know the human empire as a whole? Yet you seem to know plenty even about the Typhonians."

Wenna Baizhi sighed. "Alas, it's true I haven't had much dealings with the humans to the east, but don't forget—Meili is studying in Xuanyao City. In the second half of last year alone she wrote me dozens of pounds of letters... You can't imagine how detailed the words in those letters are. I could piece together from them the wear marks on the surface of every paving stone in Xuanyao City..."

Camilla at once wore a look of shock and admiration, and of profound skepticism. "You're serious? Then piece one together for me..."

Wenna froze for a moment, then looked up helplessly at the beastfolk chieftain before her. "Camilla... has anyone ever told you that your sense of humor is a serious problem?"

Camilla's face was grave. "No. My sense of humor is mighty among the beastfolk—my people call me 'the Humorous and Cheerful Queen.'"

Wenna: "...If you say so, then so it is."

Camilla found this rather baffling, but sensing no sign of anger in her friend's manner, she soon shook her head and dismissed it, remarking offhandedly, "Aren't we going to see Meili today? It's been a long time since I've seen that child. The last time was at the festival on Mingcen Peak, and back then she was only this tall..."

The beastfolk chieftain bent down to demonstrate, but soon found the height still insufficient, so she simply crouched. "...About this tall."

"That's about enough, quite enough," Wenna shot her a glare. "Stella is taller than that!"

"Sorry, I have trouble telling them apart," said Camilla, crouching on the ground, her eyes level with Wenna's. "Anyway—are we really not going to see her?"

"Tomorrow. Today we still have to meet Princess Hetty—though we're not here on a formal state visit, the delegation must still make a stop in Xuanyao City," Wenna shook her head. Her gaze passed over Camilla's fur-covered face and out toward the distant street. In her view, above the broadcast device at the end of the street dazzling images were playing, apparently introducing the international conference soon to be held at Outpost No. 112 of the Silver Empire, and the foreign races who would attend it. She saw gray elf faces, and tall beastfolk, and short dwarves. "I hear the dwarven delegation has also arrived in Xuanyao City, though not in the same district as us."

"That elven outpost lies on the border of the wasteland, and to reach it you must cross human lands—Xuanyao City is the only suitable transport hub in the north of the continent. Envoys from the north and west would have to be out of their minds not to gather and transfer here; after all, riding a magitech train is far easier than trudging across open country," said Camilla. Then something seemed to catch her attention, and she swept her gaze around. "Wenna, why are some passersby looking at the two of us so curiously?"

"They're looking at you," Wenna glanced at her friend. "Beastfolk don't often appear in the human world—especially beyond the Sacred Spirit Plains. A beastfolk like you is rarer than a gray elf."

Camilla looked startled and instinctively tugged at her hood. "What! My disguise has been seen through? How did they tell?"

Wenna looked wearily at the space behind Camilla. "Your tail's been swishing out there for ages—didn't you feel the draft?"

"So that's it!"

...