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our mortal soul lives on the fallacy of happiness

fallacy

noun /ˈfaləsē/

a mistaken belief, especially one based on unsound argument

There are a lot of things I do not know of the people under the Zelinda jurisdiction; one of them being their culture and events.

So, when I saw the poster of a festival, I was curious.

“It’s the annual festival,” Vega explained to me when I asked her. “Have you never gone to a festival?”

“No,” I said with a little bit of shame. Well, I could not deny that I had never gone to the festival. Neither Deneb nor I were allowed to leave for the town. I had only escaped several times to go for ‘adventures,’ and even then, I could not wander too far off from the mansion, hence why I could not visit the town when I was young. I did not even get to learn anything about the townspeople. Very ironic, no?

“Then, should we go?” she invited, taking my hand on hers and giving it a little squeeze. “It sounds interesting, right?”

Of course, since it sounded interesting, I had no objection against that idea. 

From what Vega told me, the festival usually occurs for five days, with the same vendors every day, but different attractions every day. Some attractions need tickets, some use the stages outside. “Poor people like us can’t enjoy the festival to the fullest, but at least, it is still pretty accessible nonetheless,” she told me.

We went around the festival, and it was magical. Fairy lights and sparkles surrounded us as though fireflies. Music, chattering, laughter, and other noises blended together in a pleasant symphony. Oh, how terrific! I might have embarrassed myself in front of Vega, but I did not care. I love adventures and new things and discoveries, and it is a fact that remains unchanged throughout the years. Hence, the finding of the place so bright was truly incredible.

“You really have never gone to a festival, have you not?” Vega laughed, while I dragged her around the festival.

“Nope,” I said without missing a beat. My eyes then landed on a booth that sold a huge thing that looked like cotton. Later, I learned it was cotton candy, but I remembered thinking that it looked so soft and I wanted to hold it in my hand. The cotton candy had unique combinations of colors. Pink and teal, blue and yellow, combinations of random colors, and, oh, the rainbow was so pretty! They all smelled so sweet, and I concluded that they were edible.

Without knowing what it was, I purchased it, but I was too embarrassed to ask the vendor to tell me what it was, so I asked Vega instead—which was, uh, pretty embarrassing. Vega could not stop laughing when I asked that. Oh, how embarrassing I was. Yet, I loved her laugh. I am glad that I could make her laugh like that back then.

“You’re spending too much,” she reminded with a playful tone. I guess she was enjoying the amusement of seeing my childish self, after all.

“There is no such thing as spending too much on a festival,” I smirked, then offered her the cotton candy.

Vega took a modest pinch of the cotton candy and scooped it into her mouth. She let the sugar floss dissolved in her mouth, then pursed her lips. Perhaps, she did not enjoy sweet taste much—which is curious, actually. She looks like someone who would enjoy sweets more than savory. “Come on,” Vega scoffed. “Let’s find something else. This is too sweet. I need to wash it off with something savory.”

“You’re exaggerating!” I commented. It was not too sweet; it was just perfect!

I followed Vega, who in turn dragged me around to find other savory snacks. I took her hand, and we walked together just like that, hand in hand, looking around and commenting and buying a lot of things. We enjoyed the festival to the fullest.

Until that moment.

We were minding our businesses when we noticed a commotion a few feet from us. Could that be yet another attraction? I was curious, and so was Vega. We went towards the crowd, expecting to be greeted with another exciting attraction—

—only to be greeted by familiarly nauseating faces.

Alas, the commotion was not of a musician, but were nothing but the shameless nobles.

The Zelinda came to the festival. But, for whatever reason? I had never gone to the festival, so I assumed that neither were my parents. It did not occur to me that I was, after all, still a child hidden from the eyes of the public.

I turned my back against them, hoping that the Zelinda did not recognize me nor that Vega did not notice my expression that had turned bleak. I bent my head a little, whispering in her ears, “Why are they here?”

Vega seemed to recognize discomfort in my movement, so she dragged me away from them, to a place that were, hopefully, hidden from them. “They come to the festival a lot,” Vega explained as she dragged me further.

“Every year?” I asked, dumbfounded. It was as if I were stabbed in the heart multiple times. They all went out of their way to the festival, every year, neither inviting Deneb nor I. Would you imagine how devastated I was? It is a miscellaneous matter, true, but it just truly shows how left out the Deneb and I were.

Have Cygnus ever visited the festival? I wondered.

I shook my head, shrugging the thoughts away.

“Yeah,” Vega answered, bobbing her head in a continuous nod as she pouted in dissatisfaction. “Those people dare to come to the land of poor only when the poor celebrates something,” she hissed. I did not—do not—know of her grudge to the Zelinda, but I shall say it is understandable. She proceeded, “Those crazy riches are out of their mind! They treat us poorly, yet they expect a lot from us. We are the ones who do not have any money, yet they make us pay unreasonable taxes. Taxes are to increase the quality of life for the civilian, they say, yet they never do anything! Not to mention the insane policies they make to suit themselves. They are all a bunch of egotists who feed from the poor. All of them. Every single one of them.”

I knew that her words were in no way an attack to me personally, and I understood her frustration. However, I could not help feel guilty. Had she known I was but an heir to the filthy nobles, would she still treat me with the kindness she showed to ‘Hera’? If I were to tell her now, would she treat me any different? Questions after questions clouded my mind, consuming me as though a parasite.

Perhaps, she felt the guilt I bore in my mind, but Vega immediately lightened up the mood. “But, I cannot lie that I, too, sometimes wish to have a life like them,” she admitted sheepishly. “To live leisurely without constantly thinking if I am able to survive another day, I long for that kind of life. A lot. Maybe, I am simply jealous of them.”

I looked at her. She was wise, she was careful. But, more importantly, she was kind. I believe she did not mean to talk my bloodline down in front of me, and without knowing, her words seemed like an indirect apology to me, the heir of the nobles, instead of the nobles themselves. It was, surely, what reassured me. I smiled and nodded. “I believe everyone has their own circumstances,” I said. “We cannot change our lives in a blink of an eye, but, surely, we can always find something to enjoy, right?”

Vega grinned back at me and squeezed my hand. “Right!”

even for a mere second,

I would love to hold your hand and forget the world

the night of lights and sparkles.