“Fancy a game eh, young-un?”

It was a voice raspy from age and ill-treatment that addressed Hal from the unlit nook of the Lupich Hot Spring Hostelry’s ground floor gathering area. Leaning against a wooden pillar carved into the shape of a nymph pouring liquid from a kettle, the agitated young man, brows and jawline seemingly carved from marble themselves, scratched at his short dirty-blond hair and scoffed.

“Chess? Afraid I wouldn’t serve to be a challenge, sir.”

Hal tsked at himself. He had in his meagre stock no respect for an old man such as this, who sat in the darkness each night to gander at the skin of the girls who served customers and readied the rooms and baths of the establishment. His habit of addressing his elders with ‘sir’—usually required lest he be sent to scrub some stone pavement or something equally demeaning—had apparently become an aspect of his speech that he couldn’t subdue. It was too late to rescind the mark of respect, so he just turned away with a grimace and hoped the old man would quiet down.

“Respectful young man ‘eh, I like that, I do, even if you be staring those girlies down with a harsher eye than I. I’m old but not a fool, boy. I know you’ve been graced with a mind cap’able of a game o’ wits or two, the sharpness o’ the eyes tells that and with so many years o’ experience like what I ’ave, it be clearly seen, ya see. Yoo wanna try an’ riddle me with another ‘xcuse, or you wanna sit ‘own and play, eh?”

The old man wouldn’t quiet down. Hal was accustomed enough to reading eyes himself to recognize that this man’s sharp, refined pupils, staring out from his unkempt grey-bearded face, with a hint of insanity, conveyed not a smidgen of propensity for backing down.

Hal quietly stole a stool from a nearby unused bench, returned, placed it down between the wall and the small round table on which the chess set was sat, and motioned lazily for the man to take the first move.

“White goes first, white ‘as the ‘igher odds to win. Think it’d only be fair for you to take that role, boy.”

“Fine,” Hal said. He took his eyes off of the room for the moment required to pick a pawn near the centre of the rank, and leap it forward two spaces. “I don’t know all the rules to chess, so don’t go making a deal of it if I make a mistake, sir.”

He tsked again at his mistake. The old man moved forward a pawn of his own, on the file adjacent to that which Hal had manipulated.

“That young girlie, what’s you likin’ about ‘er, ey?” the old man whispered, almost like a teasing father might. The knight in Hal’s hand halted with a twitch.

“You’ve been watching me that much, old man? I don’t see how it’s any business of yours what my inclinations might be. I might just haul you off to the cells for disrupting this here evening peace in the hostelry, you understand, sir?”

The knight made landfall in front of an unmoved pawn. The black pieces shook lightly.

“Ooh, hearty young men are fearsom’ when they be up against the weak, eh.”

“Don’t make me laugh. I’d have no need to threaten someone weak,” Hal said as another black pawn advanced a square.

The young girl in question—the maid he had talked to earlier—dashed across the room, from a hallway in the far corner near the kitchen, to the closer of the two large staircases that led to the mirrored higher sections of building that housed all the guest rooms. Hal followed with his peripheral vision. The old man might’ve realized what he was doing, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of doing it openly.

“Aye, I only mention it on cause o’ knowing what it is ‘bout her that be so striking, ya see.”

“Is that so? What strikes you about her, other than the legs you’re always gawking at?” Hal asked.

“Not the legs son, ‘tis the way them heels gallop that tells it be a ‘erewolf, ey.”

The pawn Hal held tumbled to the table, knocking down several of his own pieces. He hurriedly restored the pieces and placed the pawn haphazardly next to his other.

“What did you say, sir?”

-=-

“Oh, I remember now!” Cris said suddenly. “Today is the Lunar Blackout. That explains why there’s so much going on.”

“What’s that?” Sandy asked, pulling a cutesy white wolf mask that she had bought off her face and to the side of her head. Cris pointed to it and asked “Did you know that wolves are associated with the moon? It wouldn’t be very fun to walk around with moon masks, so instead, we go with wolves. But the blackout is something that happens later at night; maybe you’ll get to see it if you stay awake, Sandy.”

“A blackout? Is it something bad?” she asked.

“Hmm, it’s not bad, but it’s unknown why it happens. It happens every 20 years, so it’s something I’ve never seen myself either.”

Mmm, mysterious,” I said. I was distracted, waving around a strange stick toy I had been given by Sandy. “Doesn’t feel right…” I muttered.

“You’re waving that around like it’s a weapon,” Cris said. “Which it isn’t, to be clear.”

“Yeah. Don’t mind it,” I said.

The well-kept stone street forked again and again as we travelled down it, and every path seemed to have things going on. The wide main road that winded up the slope was full of people walking back and forth, many in festive colourful clothing. Several side streets were lined with stalls and shops selling all kinds of hot foods, and these were the busiest. Other streets had different curiosities. There were groups of children taking turns looking through a mounted scope, wowing at the view—presumably it was the moon they were seeing. It was a full moon, high in the sky, and there were no clouds to obscure the sight.

As promised, after eating some cheap but delicious kebabs of meat I’d never heard of—which Cris was ecstatic over, while Sandy had apparently eaten such exotic treats before—and waiting while Sandy pondered endlessly over ice cream flavours, we returned to the inn just before night truly fell.

The large gathering area was more full than earlier, but even after looping the entire room, we weren’t able to find the suspicious character called Hal.

“Seems like it was a mistake to trust that man after all,” Cris sighed.

“No way, Hal isn’t really a bad guy…” Sandy said.

Amongst the clamour, we three stood awkward and out of place as we surveyed the room.

“In any case, we came back before nightfall as promised,” I said. “I can’t help but question why, when there are so many people happily wandering about,” I commented specially to Cris.

“Without memories I can’t blame you for going along with things,” Cris said. “What’s my excuse though? Nothing can be worse than that cellar, after all.”

“Being cautious might have been what got us through that,” I said.

“If you can call any of that being cautious…” Cris said, and then pulled at her dress in mock frustration. “Why’d I wear something like this anyway. I feel like a helpless maiden not even being able to kick above the waist without showing everything.”

Recalling the amount of force Cris could put into a punch, I couldn’t easily concur with that.

“I noticed a lot of people looking at you, so you did well at looking attractive,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Hmph. I don’t really care about that…” she said, looking away.

“Oh? It can’t be that you just want to make things harder for yourself if anything were to attack us…”

“Syco, even if you lost your memory, you’re still a girl, aren’t you? You didn’t question everybody else out there wearing fancy clothing, right?” Cris said.

“You’re saying that impractical clothing has value just in wearing it?” I thought about it. “Could it be… I’m not a girl after all?”

“Don’t be silly. You most certainly are,” Cris said. “Besides, I know I said it like that, but men sometimes like to dress up nicely too. Like when meeting a superior, or getting married, it matters if you have someone to impress.”

We’d loop back to the start if I pointed out that she did impress a bunch of strangers. But Sandy was watching us curiously and silently as we talked. “Why is it you’re so subdued only at moments like this?” I asked her.

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “Watching you two talk is funny.” She sent Cris a grin I couldn’t parse. “Can we go check out our room now? I’ll tell Hal off later, but I really want to lie down~”

“We might as well,” Cris said.

-=-

There was a door that only the maids and other cleaners used, at a rear section of the building. It led to a thin path inlaid into the ground, with loose planks covering the ground, which was often muddy and liable to cause slips to unpractised walkers. Hal jumped down onto the path outside of the light range of the lantern hung above the door, having circled around the building to this point.

The maid girl—Lucy was her name—had been seen by Hal inside with a bundle of sheets in hand several minutes earlier, and so she should have been leaving through this door shortly. Hal had learned from watching her that she had a habit of taking a short break each time she was to leave for the cleaning house.

Sure enough, a minute later, she and another girl opened the door and dashed down the path with sure steps, each carrying a hefty bag of dirty cloth and lighting the way forward with their hands. Hal submerged himself into the leaves of a nook as they darted past, giggling over something.

They wasted no time in heading down the steep path, not minding the darkness. The cleaning house was a short walk away, just within the woods that bordered the town, down the hill from the hostelry that served as one major corner of its boundary.

Hal slipped out of hiding and followed after them. “A monster… If that’s what you are, or even if it isn’t, I’ll expose it,” he muttered. It was unfortunate that Lucy wasn’t alone, or it might have been a blessing. Hal intended to find out once and for all on this night, as the fever of the town grew greater under the speckled sky.