NEW WORLD — NEW FACES

Chapter 53: Breaks and Holidays

2 Days Later

— Skydia, Skydiath 33, 8054 —

(Tuesday, November 22, 2129 AD)

“Hey, there you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Huh…? Oh, Pierce. Did you want somethin’?”

“Nothing much. Just wanted to let you know that I had a great time last night! That bar you showed me was hella cool. Great atmosphere, good drinks…”

“It is my favorite bar.”

“I can see why. I’d be interested in doing that again, sometime!”

“…”

“But, at the moment, it’s almost lunch. Want to go grab a bite to eat?”

“I’m busy.”

“Oh. Well, how about tonight? I’ve been thinking—“

“Not interested in datin’.”

“…Oh. Well… okay. I’ll get out of your way, then…”

“The sex was good, though. We should do that again, sometime.”

“Uh… right. Maybe. I mean, that’s not really—”

“Sorry, gotta go. Got lunch with my friend.”

“O…kay. See you later…?”

Pierce offered a casual wave as he watched the girl walk off across the WCU campus. As soon as her back was turned, a sour scowl formed on his face, and he crossed his arms. “Fucking… not again,” he muttered under his breath. “Why’s it so hard to get a second date, around here…?”

“Still having relationship problems, huh?”

“What?!” Pierce jumped and quickly looked around, searching his surroundings. No one was present in his immediate vicinity — that is, until Conrad suddenly faded into view barely a meter away, his hands slotted into his pockets as he casually leaned against the nearby building. “…Oh, Conrad,” Pierce muttered. “Are you eavesdropping now? Don’t be a creep.”

“Hey, I was here first,” Conrad refuted, and then smiled in amusement. “But who was that girl, huh? Another date?”

“Shut up. I don’t need to hear this from you, of all people.”

“Hey, I’m just asking a question. Still, though, that’s… what, the fifth girl you’ve gone out with, here?”

“What’s it to you, huh?”

“Wow, you’re being really touchy about this. Aren’t you usually proud about being good at sex, or something? Does this have something to do with your bet with Phoenix—?“

Pierce’s scowl deepened considerably as he snapped, “she has nothing to do with this!”

“…Right, I’m sure she doesn’t,” Conrad deadpanned. “Just like I’m sure that the fact that she’s had the same guy for almost a week doesn’t have anything to do with this, either.”

“It’s not even a week, it’s been, like, five days. That’s nothing. Why would I care?”

“It’s more than you’ve managed.”

“Damn it, dude, shut the hell up. You’re supposed to be sympathetic, here, not bashing me.”

“Hey, at least you’re finding a bunch of new sex friends, right?”

“Contrary to what many people seem to think of me, I’m not actually interested in having sex friends. I want an actual relationship, damn it!”

“Sure, sure…” Conrad released a tired sigh and then pushed off of the wall. “Well, anyways, it’s almost lunch. Wanna get something?”

Pierce responded with a bitter glare.

“…Oh come on, dude, I wasn’t even trying to poke fun that time,” Conrad replied. “You really need to relax. I bet a nap would do you good.”

“You think a nap would do everyone good.”

“Yeah, ‘cause most people don’t get enough sleep. Sleep is important, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Pierce drawled, rolling his eyes as he did. Nevertheless, he then turned toward the campus gates and beckoned for Conrad to follow. “C’mon, you bastard. Let’s go eat something.”

“As nice as ever,” Conrad retorted, though began following anyways. Just as he stepped up next to Pierce, however, the two heard a shout.

“Hey, Pierce! That you?”

Pierce and Conrad both turned around to face the source of the shout. Approaching from behind was Liask, her facial scar obvious from a distance in the bright midday sun. As Liask approached, Pierce noticed that there were another two students with her. One of them was a young man with dark skin, standing about as tall as Conrad. He had no facial hair — Pierce guessed that he was around 18 or 19, so he might have just been too young for it — and his buzz cut almost made him look bald, given that his dark skin nearly matched the blackness of his hair. Thin eyebrows and a strong jawline rounded out his notable facial features.

The other individual was a fair-skinned young woman with long, dark, and oily unkempt hair that partially obscured the right side of her face. She stood barely five feet tall, a stark contrast to Liask’s five and a half feet, and Pierce’s own six; Pierce wasn’t able to discern much else about her build, however, due to the baggy desert robing that swathed her body — far baggier than the robing that Liask and the young man were wearing, in fact. From the visible part of her face, she appeared to have soft, rounded cheeks and dark bags under her eyes. Like the man, Pierce figured that she couldn’t have been any older than 18 or 19, which would also put her in the same age bracket as Liask.

“…Hey, Liask,” Pierce eventually greeted as the trio stopped just in front of him and Conrad.

“Oh, you know her, huh?” Conrad questioned cheekily.

“Shut up, asshole,” Pierce retorted, and then adopted a pleasant smile as he turned back to Liask. “Didn’t think I’d run into you, here. Though, in hindsight… I guess I should’ve expected this at some point, huh?”

“We are both students, here,” Liask replied as she returned the smile. “Me and my friends were just goin’ for lunch, and then I saw you. Just thought I’d say hi.” She then glanced over at Conrad. “…Am I interuptin’ somethin’?”

“Nah,” Conrad responded airily, his hands still in his pockets. He then glanced between her and Pierce, and then the other two students standing behind Liask. “…So, uh… who are you guys?”

“Oh! Sorry. I’m Liask. And these two are my friends, Obra and Minilas.”

“…Hmph,” the young man, Obra, replied with a grunt.

“Nice to meetcha,” the young woman, Minilas, responded flatly.

“Same to you,” Pierce said, and then jerked a thumb towards Conrad. “And this loser here is Conrad. He’s a friend of mine.”

“You really have a way with introductions, don’t you,” Conrad deadpanned.

“Sounds like what I’ve heard,” Obra commented, his arms crossed and mouth turned down into a scowl.

Pierce passed Obra a confused glance. “What’re you—?”

“Don’t mind him,” Minilas interjected, a small smirk playing across her face, while her tone remained flat. “He’s just… hungry.”

“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all,” Pierce muttered.

“But it’s something I can empathize with,” Conrad remarked. “It is lunchtime.”

“I guess so…” Pierce passed Conrad a glance before turning back to Liask and her friends. “Well, we were just about to hit up the nearby cafe. You guys want to join us?”

Liask grinned. “Sounds like fun!”

“Mm, I dunno…” Minilas spoke up, “today is waterloaf… I can do better.”

“…Waterloaf?” Conrad questioned in confusion.

“It’s a kind of bread made from grains that only grow when waterlogged. The texture is kind of… soggy. It’s not great,” Pierce replied, and then elbowed Conrad in the side. “Come on, dude, we’ve been here for almost a month now. Pay attention.”

“I guess…” Conrad muttered, and looked over at Minilas. “You say you can do better though, huh? Do you cook, then?”

Minilas cocked her head, as if thinking. A moment later, she replied, “…sort of.”

“She’s a Food Formtechnic,” Liask explained. “Oh, and I guess while I’m at it — Obra is a Barriertechnic.”

“…Barriertechnic?” Conrad echoed cluelessly.

“I can make barriers. Not unlike energy shields,” Obra replied, and then passed Pierce an annoyed glance. “I can cut someone in half just by makin’ a barrier in the middle of ‘em, too.”

“…Cool…?” Pierce responded warily. Why does this dude seem to hate me, already? I’ve never even met him! He then quickly switched his attention over to Minilas, saying, “Food Formtechnic, huh? Formtechnism is where you can just make stuff out of thin air, right? So you’re saying that your Chaotic ability is to… make food?”

Minilas nodded. “Yep.”

“That sounds… hilariously mundane.”

“Not all Chaotics are suited for combat,” Liask pointed out.

“Should be obvious,” Conrad added.

“Yeah, but… still.” Pierce continued looking at Minilas, a doubtful expression upon his face. “What kind of food can you even make?”

Wordlessly, Minilas held out her hand. A second later, a fish sandwich materialized out of thin air, topped with a slice of something white and some kind of bluish-green lettuce. She then took a bite out of the sandwich, chewing for a few seconds before tossing it toward Pierce.

“Uh—!” Reflexively, Pierce snatched the sandwich out of the air, only to stare at it incredulously. “…What?”

“Try it,” Liask urged.

“If you won’t, I will,” Conrad volunteered.

Pierce passed Conrad an unamused glance before returning his attention to the sandwich. Tentatively, he held it up to his nose and sniffed once; the distinctive smell of fish, mixed with a hint of something like cheese, filled his nostrils. I guess it’s fine? The colors look a little off, but… I guess that’s just because these ingredients are from another planet. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try… A second later, he took a bite out the sandwich and began chewing, contemplating the fishy flavor and texture that entered his mouth. At first he wasn’t sure what to think — this was a sandwich that had been conjured out of thin air, after all — but eventually, his opinion became clear.

“…That’s actually pretty good,” he remarked after swallowing. “Fish, cheese, and some kind of lettuce, huh?”

“Let me try,” Conrad insisted, snatching the sandwich out of Pierce’s hands and readily biting into it. “…Huh, yeah, it’s pretty good,” he commented with his mouth still full.

“It’s just a sandwich,” Obra replied incredulously.

“Sure, yeah. It’s not the best sandwich I’ve ever had, but it’s still pretty good,” Pierce declared as he turned back to Minilas and Conrad continued eating the sandwich. “Mundane as it is, being able to summon food on a whim must be pretty damn useful, huh?”

Minilas nodded as a hollow smile crossed her face. “Yep. The Bleeders thought that, too.”

“…What?”

“What?”

“…Anyways!” Liask interjected, “so, uh, what’ve you been up to lately, Pierce?”

“Gettin’ dumf—“ Conrad started with a mouthful of sandwich, only to be cut off by Pierce.

“Nothing much,” he declared as he passed an annoyed glare to Conrad, who pretended to not notice by stuffing what little remained of the sandwich into his mouth. After returning his attention to Liask, Pierce continued, “just, you know, student stuff. Classes, training… hitting the town.”

“Sounds like fun,” Minilas replied, her tone deadpan.

“Yeah…”

“I guess the life of a student isn’t that excitin’, huh?” Liask remarked with a sheepish laugh. “Well, what about next week? Are y’all goin’ on the Sikalia trip?”

“So we’ve been told,” Conrad commented.

“Sounds like fun,” Minilas repeated.

“…What, are you guys not going?” Pierce questioned.

“No…” Obra replied with a scowl. “And the fact that y’all are is bullshit.”

“Hey, we didn’t make this decision,” Pierce snapped back.

“It’s probably just an age thing,” Liask suggested, holding out a hand in front of Obra as she did. “Only the three upper classes are goin’ on the trip. The underclasses are left behind…”

“Wait, how many classes are there?” Conrad asked.

“6. Me, Obra, and Minilas are all 3rd-years.”

“So we’re equivalent to 4th- or 5th-years, then…?” Pierce questioned.

“But we just started,” Conrad pointed out.

“That’s my point,” Obra insisted. “The hell did y’all do to get all this favoritism, huh? Taught directly by a Dean, from a different school, and now a free trip when the rest of us get left behind?”

“We didn’t do shit,” Pierce retorted. “We’re just in the dark as you are.”

“Yeah fuckin’ right…”

“Dude, what the hell are you trying to say here—?”

“Guys, please,” Liask interjected as she deposited herself directly in between Pierce and Obra. “This ain’t worth fightin’ about.”

“You should eat,” Minilas said to Obra as she fabricated a sandwich in her hands and held it out to him. He responded with an irritated scowl, but accepted the sandwich nonetheless.

“…We catch you guys at a bad time?” Conrad questioned.

“It’s always a bad time with Obra,” Minilas stated with a wry smile.

“Hmph…” responded Obra, who had pointedly directed his attention away from Pierce and Conrad as he ate his sandwich.

“Yeah… I think we should probably go, now. Sorry,” Liask apologized with a contrite smile. She then turned toward Pierce, saying, “when you get back from Sikalia, you should tell us about it! I heard you’ll get to see their Brightest Day celebrations, so that should be a lot of fun!”

“Brightest Day…?” Pierce echoed.

“It’s a Nimalian holiday. You’ll see. Anyways…” Liask turned toward the dormitory, ushering Minilas and Obra along with her as she shouted over her shoulder, “see you later, Pierce!”

Pierce and Conrad remained standing where they were, watching the three Nimalians disappear into the dorms. They then exchanged a glance.

“What the hell was that about?” Pierce questioned incredulously.

“Sounds like that Obra dude has a chip on his shoulder,” Conrad replied, and then shrugged. “Though he’s got a point. We are getting a lot of favoritism, here…”

“That’s not our fault, though. He can’t blame us for that.”

“As if that ever stopped people from disliking the person who benefits from favoritism.”

“Hmph…” Pierce snorted in derision before turning around and walking off toward the WCU campus gates, with Conrad quickly falling into step beside him. “…Fucking bullshit. Well, whatever. Let’s just get lunch.”

“I can get behind that. Maybe we can ask around about this ‘Brightest Day’ thing Liask mentioned.”

“I think I heard about that while I was on Ainminthalus, actually… I think it’s some kind of summer solstice celebration.”

“That makes sense… aw man, that means there’s gonna be a big party, or a festival, or something, doesn’t it? Aww…”

“C’mon, dude, parties and festivals are the best part of holidays! If you try to shut yourself in some hotel room while we have the chance to celebrate a foreign holiday on an alien planet, then I’m going to drag your ass out into the sun!”

“Aw, c’mon, man…”

The two then continued their banter as they stepped through the campus gates, finally on their way to lunch.

Several Hours Later

“Alright, now let’s see here… let’s get the breads and produce, first…”

After quickly checking the list in his hands, Mark adjusted the empty satchel slung over his shoulder and then strode onto Market Street. The afternoon sun shone through clear skies upon the crowds that filled the street as citizens went about their business shopping for food and other goods, and merchants shouted across the din in an effort to hawk their wares. Due to Mark’s size and stature, the crowds presented little issue for him; not only could he easily push his way through, but he could also clearly see over the heads of pretty much everyone. Still, he attempted to maneuver through the street with as little shoving as possible, an act that he had grown accustomed to over his many trips to the market.

We’ve only been here for barely a month, yet it somehow feels so much longer… Mark mused. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re busy. And we’ve all certainly been busy, recently… all the more reason to make that dinner all the better!

Mark briefly glanced down at his grocery list again, scanning its lengthy contents. He had wanted some kind of large bird meat, but Tresnon specialized almost entirely in fish, so he had listed a large fish instead. He had wanted some kind of gravy or similar sauce, but Tresnon didn’t have even an approximate type of sauce — this was an alien society, after all — so Mark had to find a way to make it from scratch, instead. He had wanted potatoes, or something similar, but Tresnon had no such analogue, so he had to look for something else instead. Mark frowned as these thoughts crossed his mind; due to the food sources available to Compound Tresnon, he had to make a lot of compromises to make anything even remotely resembling his ultimate goal of a Thanksgiving dinner.

Still, I want to do SOMETHING to help everyone feel better, Mark thought as he stepped into a small produce store and began looking around. It’s gotten a little better, recently, but ever since last weekend, the recruits have all been feeling down, or agitated. Pierce and Phoenix, particularly. I suppose that “contest” of theirs is just stressing them out. I can’t do much to help directly, but I can at least prepare a good meal. Good food always gets your spirits up, I find…

“Mark? Oh, hey!”

“Hmm?” Mark glanced off to the side, and then smiled as he noticed Karísah approaching. Turning to face her directly, he commented, “Karísah! It’s nice to see you.”

“Same to you!” Karísah remarked, returning the smile. “I feel like I don’t see you around all that much, outside of trainin’.”

“Well, I’m not really a student, so I suppose it stands to reason that our schedules wouldn’t line up all that well.”

“I guess… but everyone needs food, huh?” Karísah said, nodding towards Mark’s satchel as she did.

Mark glanced down at it. “Heh… I suppose so.” He then gestured toward Karísah, and the bag half-filled with green and blue produce in her left hand. “I see you’re shopping, too. That seems like plenty for one person, though. Do you cook?”

“Ah… only a little,” she replied. “Davídrius and I ain’t that good at cookin’…”

“Oh, that’s right, you live with Davídrius, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I have for years.” She huffed. “We’re supposed to alternate gettin’ groceries, but when he goes out, he never gets produce. It’s always meat, with him.”

Mark smirked. “So you take care of it yourself, then?”

“More often than I’d like… but he’s gotten a lot busier lately, so I can’t really ask him to help with this…”

“Oh… because of the Bleeders?”

“Not just that. Apparently, he got approached by some SFC officers a couple days ago. He was real mad about that one…”

“SFC…?”

“The Stealth and Force Corps. They’re a PMC from Riverana, I think. They’ve been tryin’ to get land around here for a while now, and Davídrius and Selind won’t let ‘em.”

“Another PMC… this galaxy really likes PMCs, doesn’t it…”

“…I guess that does seem weird, when you think about it.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s a reason. I’m afraid I’m still somewhat lacking in knowledge when it comes to how things work in non-Earthian cultures, ha ha.”

“You ain’t the only one who’s only familiar with home,” Karísah remarked, and then gestured toward the list in his hand. “Is it an Earthian thing to make such long grocery lists? Can you even carry all that stuff yourself?”

“Oh, this?” Mark looked down at his grocery list for a moment. “You’re right that it’s a lot…”

“Yeah. We might be super strong, but we still only have two hands.”

“Ha! I’m well aware. This list length isn’t normal, though. There’s a special occasion coming in a couple days that I want to prepare for.”

“A special occasion? Like what?”

“It’s just an Earthian holiday. Not even all of Earth, really, just one nation on Earth, though it’s the one that all of the recruits are from… anyways, it’s called Thanksgiving. The basic concept is that you make a big, tasty dinner, and then eat a lot, while thinking about what people and events in your life that you’re thankful for.”

“A holiday where you have a feast? Huh. That sounds a lot like Hunger’s Bane.”

Mark regarded Karísah with a surprised look. “You have a similar holiday, here?”

“Yeah. It’s one of my favorites!” Karísah remarked with a grin. “Tresédians might not have much, but it’s always nice to see everyone come together, make a ton of food, and then eat it with friends and family!”

“When you put it like that, it really does sound like our Thanksgiving. When is it?”

“A little over three weeks from now. I’m sure you’ll love it!”

“Hmm…” Mark paused for a moment to mull over the new information he had just learned. “…That’s pretty soon. Maybe I should save my bigger ideas for that…”

“I was about to suggest that, actually, though for a different reason,” Karísah said. “You said this Thanksgiving is in a couple days, right?”

“The 24th of November — which comes out to the 35th of Skydiath, yes.”

“Ah… well, we’re supposed to leave for Nimaliaka on the 36th, so we can be ready to head out for Sikalia on Sundia. Havin’ a big feast the night before that might not be a good idea.”

“That’s right, we do have that school trip… hmm. I suppose you have a point.” Mark then looked down at his grocery list, a thoughtful look on his face. “…I still want to do something for Thanksgiving, but I suppose I’ll tone it down.”

“There’s gonna be a lot of celebration next week, anyways,” Karísah pointed out. “Davídrius said that Sikalia will be hostin’ its Brightest Day celebrations while we’re there, so you can still get your holiday fun that way!”

“Brightest Day?”

“Yeah, Brightest Day is always on the summer solstice. That means it happens at different times on different planets — Treséd’s Brightest Day is in three months, not next week like Sikalia’s. But Brightest Day is always a big holiday for Nimalians — that’s what Davídrius says, anyways. He said to expect a lot of partyin’ on Sikalia.”

“Huh, that sounds interesting. I hadn’t thought about the fact that your holidays would be different from Earth’s, until now, but it makes sense.”

“That’s a good point, I bet Earth has different holidays than us. What’s your favorite one?”

Mark grinned. “Thanksgiving, obviously. Any excuse to make a huge feast for my friends!”

“And I’ll take any excuse to eat a huge feast — so Hunger’s Bane is my favorite,” Karísah replied in kind. “Sounds like we’re similar, there!”

“True. Aside from Hunger’s Bane and Brightest Day, what other holidays do Nimalians celebrate?”

“Well, there’s Darkest Day, which is the opposite of Brightest Day. A winter celebration where you stay inside and spend time with close friends and family.”

“That one sounds kind of like Christmas… though solstice holidays in general aren’t uncommon in Earth history. I’m not too surprised to hear that the Nimalians have something for it, too.”

“I guess. There ain’t many other holidays that I know personally, though. Treséd doesn’t have a lot in the way of holidays…”

“Oh… I see…”

“You might like Creators’ Day, though. One of the few foreign holidays that got popular in Treséd, like Brightest Day and Hunger’s Bane.”

“Creators’ Day? Is that a religious holiday…?”

“Huh? Why would it be?”

Mark shook his head. “Nevermind. What’s it about?”

“Creators’ Day is a celebration of cultural creators,” Karísah explained. “Authors, artists, composers, directors… even cooks, and stuff like woodworkin’, or sewin’, or smithin’. If you can create or make somethin’, Creators’ Day is for you.”

“That’s more literal than I was expecting, but I can appreciate the spirit. As far as I know, Earth doesn’t have anything like that… not on a national or global scale, at least…”

“I think you’d like it. It’s still a couple months away, but it’s always fun!” Karísah smiled, only to frown a second later. “…But it’s in the middle of the ACT, so I haven’t been able to see Tresnon’s Creators’ Day celebrations these past couple years… this year isn’t lookin’ any different, either…”

“The ACT? I think I’ve heard about that one. The Annual Chaotic Tournament, right?”

“Yeah. Each year, it’s held at a different one of the Schools of Chaos. It’s never been at WCU while I was a student here… though it’s supposed to be here next year!”

“Here? In Compound Tresnon?”

“Yeah! The last time the ACT was in Tresnon, it was really busy around here. I can remember it well… lots of people showed up from all around the planet, just to watch. It was kinda crazy.”

“Wait, really? I got the impression that the rest of Nimalia, uh… didn’t like Treséd very much.”

“Well, yeah… but the ACT seems to draw a lot of attention despite that. It’s a tournament between the best Chaotics of the Schools of Chaos, which — accordin’ to Davídrius, at least — are already the best of the best. So people like to watch.”

“Now that, I can definitely understand. Earth doesn’t have Chaotics, but sports are a huge industry. Does the ACT have anything to do with Creators’ Day, though?”

“Oh… no, not really. They just happen to overlap. The ACT is bound to overlap some holiday, anyways, since it lasts over a month…”

“Ah, so it’s a long-term thing, not a single-day affair?”

“Of course it is! The ACT has five rounds, and even more fights than that if you include the qualifiers and bracket placements. It’d be insane to fight five matches in a single day!”

“Right… ha, I suppose it would be. I take it you’ve participated in a few, then? Since you mentioned being away from Tresnon due to the ACT.”

“Yeah…” Karísah glanced away with a resigned look on her face. “Davídrius and Selind always push me to sign up. And it’s, you know, it is fun to go see the other schools and continent-nations, but… it ain’t home.”

“True. But if the ACT is supposed to be the best of the best, and you’ve qualified for it multiple times, then that sounds like something to be proud of.”

“Davídrius always says that, too…”

Mark paused as he watched Karísah’s expression drop, and her gaze begin to wander, as if she were searching for something to distract herself with. He didn’t know much about the ACT or her motivations for fighting in it, but it was obvious to him now that — for whatever reason — she didn’t seem to enjoy it. Out of a desire to not dwell on unpleasant topics, Mark decided to change the subject of the conversation. “Let’s think about more…. immediate concerns, for now,” he commented, drawing Karísah’s attention back to him. “What about Hunger’s Bane? Do you know if there are any big plans for WCU or Tresnon this year?”

Karísah’s eyes lit up and a smile slowly crept back onto her face. “Oh! Hmm… well, WCU does usually do somethin’ for the students, but I haven’t heard much, yet…”

“Sounds like it’s not to late for me to offer to help, then.”

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly demand that of you…”

“Nonsense, I want to help! Just tell me how things normally go, what kinds of foods you typically prepare, and I’ll try to fit right in — albeit, with some Earthian flair.”

“Ha! Well, in that case… uh, lemme think — oh, right! For one…”

Mark and Karísah’s conversation continued on, the two discussing the foods and intricacies of the upcoming Nimalian holiday while gradually resuming their afternoon errands.