by Pirateaba
In truth, it was Erin who was truly dissatisfied with Jasi and Grev’s opportunities. [Seamstress]? [Barber]? [Cook]? [Blacksmith]? All these jobs sounded…boring. Erin knew they were all important jobs that someone had to do, but if she had a choice, those would be far from her first ones.
At least [Runner] sounded marginally interesting. But—hadn’t Ryoka told Erin how much it sucked to be a Street Runner? And Erin was sure the other girl had complained at length about running countless miles to deliver some useless item for only a few silver coins. Unless you were a Courier, being a Runner sounded sort of boring too.
There it was again. Boring. Erin kept thinking the word. She sighed loudly again.
“I just don’t—I know we could find you a decent job, Jasi. But that’s not what you should want, y’know?”
Jasi exchanged a glance with Wesle.
“I don’t know, Miss Erin. What do you mean?”
Erin didn’t really know herself. She tried to explain as she slumped lower in her seat.
“It’s just…we’re talking about your future here. And you’re happy to get an okay job, I get that. But—don’t you want to be rich or famous? Don’t you have anything you want to do, anything special?”
She looked hopefully at Jasi, but just got a confused shake of the head in return.
“All I’ve ever wanted was to keep myself fed and clothed, Miss Erin. That’s all.”
The Drake had no idea how depressed that made Erin. How could she not want to do something special? But Jasi had been poor. Her dreams were real and urgent.
“You never wanted to be famous? Or live an exciting life?”
When she’d been younger, Erin had dreamed of being a astronaut. Then, when she’d been slightly older she’d wanted to be a legendary chess player, someone who could beat even a computer in chess. And then…she’d wanted to be a chess commentator, someone with a huge following or even a Youtube channel. Her dreams weren’t huge, true—most people didn’t even know chess commentary was an actual job. But they were big to Erin.
Jasi didn’t even have her own hopes and dreams. Erin looked at Grev.
“Don’t you want to be someone special?”
“Me?”
The young boy looked confused and slightly scared as Erin pointed at him. She nodded.
“Yeah, you. If you could have any class—do anything—what would you do?”
“I’d—I’d be a famous adventurer! A Gold-rank—no, a Named Adventurer! And I’d have a flaming sword and slay Dragons.”
Grev’s face immediately lit up, but Jasi only shook her head, looking upset.
“Please, Miss Erin. Don’t encourage Grev.”
“Why not?”
Erin glared at Jasi, making the Drake shrink back.
“Dreams are good! Important! If you could do anything, what would you do, Jasi?”
The Drake hesitated, and bit at her lip. Reluctantly, she replied.
“I suppose if I could I’d like to learn a craft and start a small business for myself—but even that’s a far-off dream, Miss Erin.”
She didn’t quite deserve the dead gaze Erin gave her. Jasi just shrugged helplessly.
“It’s all I can think of. If I could have anything—I guess I’d wish to be rich? Rich enough that I never have to work?”
“Really? That’s boring too!”
Erin threw her hands up helplessly. Why were Jasi’s ambitions so small? Why was she so upset? But it was just—
Boring. The same word again.
“Wesle!”
The man jumped.
“Yes, Erin?”
“What’s your dream?”
He hesitated and turned slightly red. But the look in Erin’s eyes didn’t give him any wiggle room. Clearing his throat several times, Wesle blushingly replied.
“I wanted to be an adventurer too. But—”
His hand fell back on his sword hilt helplessly. Wesle squeezed his eyes for a second.
“—But I’m afraid I can’t be one. I’m not a born fighter like they are, Miss Erin. I can handle myself, but I’m not brave enough to go searching for evil to fight.”
Wesle closed his eyes. He stared past Erin, at something in the distance. His voice softened, and his hand clenched around the mug on this table.
“If I could, I should have liked to have been a [Knight]. I would have loved to fight monsters and defend people by slaying creatures. And—yes, wielding a flaming sword. Or one that can cut through steel, at least.”
His eyes refocused, and he coughed, turning beet-red. He looked afraid, as if he was sure the others in the room would laugh at him. But no one did.
Instead, his words made Jasi take a breath. She stared out the window, hesitating, and then spoke.
“If I could? If I had nothing to worry about? Maybe, maybe I’d travel to Liscor. To other cities. I’d like to know what Drakes—my people are like. I’d like to see what lies beyond Celum’s walls.”
She’d never left the city? But there were people like that too. Even back home, Erin remembered people, old people, who’d never even left their home state. They’d never flown on a plane or bothered to drive more than a hundred miles from where they were born and would die. She’d never understood that, but then, Erin had travelled to other continents to play chess in tournaments when she was young.
Some days, it felt like Erin really was in a different world. Only, she was walking among aliens that wore human faces. She met people with small dreams, who were as small as insects. Sometimes. But then Erin looked deep into their souls and saw something familiar. Something she’d seen in a mirror when she was young.
Hope. Dreams.
Passion.
The man and Drake sitting at her table were very different, but they had the same look in their eyes. It wasn’t what Erin saw in Agnes’ pitying gaze, or Safry’s shrug. There was still something in Wesle’s expression, and Jasi’s eyes when she stared at the window. They had a spark there, of something real and alive. But it was fading, and Erin saw it flickering in Jasi’s resigned smile and the way Wesle shook his head when he talked about his past dreams.
They had hopes. They had ambitions. But it was buried so deep that they’d nearly forgotten about them. Erin touched her aching chest. And yet, what could you do? Octavia’s words echoed in her mind. If you weren’t willing to risk everything, what could you do?
Being an adventurer was a calling for the few, the insane and the brave and the desperate. But what else could people do if they didn’t want to work their entire lives? Octavia was right. There was no other way to live. Either you took a risk and died or became famous or—you worked hard and kept your head down.
“It’s not right.”
That was all Erin said. She sat at the table and clenched her hands. This wasn’t right. This was how the world was—how this world was. And she knew it was probably how the world had been, back in her world for thousands of years. But—
It wasn’t right. There was more to life. She knew that. She lived, she had lived in a world where anyone could be anything. That was what she’d been taught as a child. And maybe it wasn’t totally true, but it was that idea which people associated with her home country, with being an American. It was about equality, but it was also about hope.
Hope, and the faith that you could realize your dreams.
“Miss Erin?”
Erin looked up. Jasi and Wesle were looking at her. So was Grev.
“What?”
“You’ve been very quiet. Are you alright?”
“I am. It’s just—your world—your city—sort of sucks, guys.”
To Erin’s surprise, both Jasi and Wesle immediately frowned at her comment.
“I don’t know if that’s true.”
“Yeah. Celum isn’t perfect but—it’s just as good as Liscor.”
“Respectfully, Miss Erin, Celum is quite a good city to live in.”
Erin blinked at the force of their replies. Even Jasi was defending Celum
. Why? Wesle’s normally amiable face looked quite upset as he stared challengingly at Erin.
“What makes you feel your home is that much better than Celum?”
“Where I come from—in the place where I used to be, people didn’t have so—so few options.”
Erin tried to explain to the indignant guardsman and Drake.
“We have plenty of options!”
“Indeed. Anyone can make something of themselves in Celum.”
“No—no, you guys don’t get it! Here you can only have boring jobs. Or—or be an adventurer and maybe die. But back home, people could be someone. They could be stars, celebrities!”
“Celebrities?”
The word was completely foreign to the two. Erin nodded energetically, suddenly able to put words to the sense of absence she’d been feeling recently.
“Yeah! Back home—even a girl or guy from a far off village could go to the big city and make their dreams come true. It was hard and risky, but they could take a chance. They could try and fulfill their dreams! If you wanted to, you could go there.”
“Where?”
The word came out of Erin’s childhood.
“Hollywood.”
The word burned in the silence. And suddenly, Erin remembered. She remembered movies and dreams and childhood. Yes, how could she have forgotten? But Wesle and Jasi didn’t get it. They just looked confused.
“What’s that? Some kind of tree?”
How could you explain Hollywood to people who hadn’t even seen a movie? Erin grabbed at words and failed to find anything that would help. Hollywood was—it was movies! It was the silver screen, the place where hopes and stories became reality. Now things were different of course—there was Youtube and the internet. And you heard all kinds of bad things about Hollywood. Sexism, racism, jerkism…
But when Erin had been small, Hollywood had been the place where magic was made in her world. It had been the place where movies came from, a wondrous, far-off land. But how to describe it?
“Broadway! Plays! That’s what it’s like!”
Wesle’s chair scooted back as Erin suddenly shouted. Yes, that was it! She turned excitedly to the scared Drake and human.
“Haven’t you seen a play before? Hollywood is like a play except—better!”
Erin stared hopefully at the other two. They had to have seen a play before. That was—even in this world, they’d be common, right? Right? But her jaw dropped as the two shook their head slowly.
“I’m afraid I’ve never seen one, Miss Solstice.”
“Neither have I.”
“What?”
The bug-eyed stare Erin was giving them made Jasi and Wesle feel uncomfortable. The guardsman cleared his throat nervously.
“If you mean a tumbling routine—I always catch those every time a festival happens. And of course I like to listen to stories in taverns if there’s a [Storyteller] travelling by.”
“I like to read books. We had one when I was young. It was worn, but—”
“No!”
Erin put her hands underneath the table and flipped it. It was the only thing that she could do, the only thing that could give vent to her emotions. The mugs, the drinks, plates and silverware all went flying. Jasi screamed and Wesle cried out in shock. As pottery crashed and broke on the floor, there was silence.
And standing, trembling, pointing at them, Erin. She stood on her chair, practically vibrating with passion.
“No! That isn’t a play! Plays are more than stupid tumbling, more than just a book! They’re full of—of romance! Drama! Love! Action! Intrigue and betrayal and hope and—”
Erin waved her hands around wildly while Jasi, Wesle, and Grev all stared at her. Grev was already edging towards the stairs.
“You’re telling me none of you have ever seen a play before?”
“The table—”
Jasi squeaked as Erin rounded on her.
“No—no I haven’t!”
“Never? Why not?”
“There aren’t many people with that sort of class, Miss Erin! I mean, who would take a class like that on a whim? There are [Bards], Miss Erin. And—oh, maybe in large cities there are performances like that, but it’s not a job anyone can just learn.”
“What’s a play?”
Erin looked incredulously at Grev. But the boy had piped up, staring at Erin with curious eyes.
“You don’t know? It’s—it’s people telling a story. They pretend to be characters and they act out something funny or tragic. It’s like a book, but in real life!”
“Huh. Watch people pretend to be people in a story?”
Grev’s little nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Who’d want to see that?”
He flinched when Erin stared at him with wrath in her eyes. Wesle carefully raised a hand.
“I saw a performance like that once.”
“Really?”
He nodded, eyeing the broken plates and spilled drink on the ground.
“It was a wandering group of performers. They were telling everyone how a group of Gold-rank adventurers slew an entire nest of Griffons that had been preying on a town. It was a reenactment, and they had a fake Griffin creature they burned—”
“That’s not it either!”
Erin jumped off the chair and kicked it. She hopped around shouting in agony as Grev hid under the table. Jasi was petrified and Wesle had a hand on his sword as if he feared he’d had to defend himself.
“That’s not it at all!”
When Erin had calmed down a bit, she tried again. She couldn’t believe they didn’t know. She had to tell them. The knowledge was burning a hole in her chest, trying to get out.
“Plays are—more than just reenactments, Wesle. They’re a story, a moment. If they’re boring they’re good—they should make you laugh and cry and believe what you’re seeing is real. Some of the most famous characters in history came from plays!”
“Like who?”
Erin didn’t have to think.
“Romeo and Juliet.”
“Who? I mean, what did they do?”
Jasi stared at Erin. Erin stared back. And then the girl leapt onto a table.
“O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Who doesn’t know of the star-crossed lovers? Romeo of House Montague and Juliet of House Capulet! They, the two forbidden scions of each house dare the wrath of their families to find romance. Even if it means death, they would be together. At any cost.”
Jasi’s sharp teeth glinted as she gaped up at Erin. Wesle’s lips were parted in surprise. Erin bowed to them, flourishing on the table as if she were on stage.
“Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.”
She stared down at the staring faces, full of anger and emotion.
“That is the story of Romeo and Juliet.”
Only slack faces greeted Erin. She blinked, realized what had happened.
“Whoa. Did I do that?”
—-
How did she do that? As Erin helped right the table and clean up the mess—the others were to shaken to do more than sit—she wondered what had happened.
She was no actor. Erin wasn’t even that good at acting. But in that moment, she’d perfectly recalled the opening lines of Romeo and Juliet, word for word! How? She didn’t have a perfect memory—she’d never even read the play! She’d just seen it performed once!
But wait a minute. Erin frowned as she mopped up the spilled drink and got rid of the broken pottery in a few seconds of brisk cleaning. She had Skills, didn’t she? Not just [Advanced Cleaning].
She was a Level 6 [Singer]. And she had that skill—[Perfect Recall]. It didn’t actually let Erin remember everything, it only worked for songs. Songs…and plays as it turned out. Yes, now that Erin concentrated, she found it was true! She could remember plays, entire passages out of
books—anything that Erin considered artistic, really.
“I’ve never heard anything like it.”
That was what Wesle kept repeating when Erin was done with cleaning up her accident. He sat at a table, staring at Erin.
“What strange way of speaking was that? It sounded grand and yet—it rhymed. I’ve never heard anything like it.”
Erin sat at another table, trying to explain. Now she had all the attention on the room on her—not just attention, but fierce interest. It was like the crepes, like the new music all over again. Erin felt it. Here was something new, and it captivated the people of this world.
“That’s a play. Some of them rhyme. It’s called iambic pentameter.”
“And what’s that? Iambic…? Is it a Skill?”
“No, it’s a way of speaking. Anyone can do it. It’s—well, it’s just a style. But it sounds good, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
Both Jasi and Wesle nodded in agreement. Erin smiled.
“That’s a play. Actually, that’s not even it. What I just said I’d say to the crowd before the actual play started. To understand a real play—you’d have to see it done with multiple actors on stage.”
“I wish I could see that. It sounds—interesting.”
Erin wished she could see that too. To see a movie, or a play—even one of the classics from her world like The Wizard of Oz would be…
Impossible. She sighed. But then Erin sat up. She stared at the female Drake sitting in front of her, eyes alight with interest, and the human male sitting next to her, fuzzy lipped and full of life.
And Erin had an obvious idea. She smiled widely, and looked at the two while Grev peeked at her from the kitchen.
“Well, why not? Would you two like to put on a play by yourselves?”
“Us?”
The two exchanged a glance. But Erin knew that they would say ‘yes’ before they even nodded.
—-
It was a play. A new thing for this world, or maybe an ordinary thing made new. It was supposed to be grand and special. But—as Erin sat at her table, she realized that recreating a play wasn’t exactly the same as making crepes or playing a song on an iPhone.