After that, they entered the underwater theater without any further complications. Theater Atlantis was a large and grand playhouse with thousands of seats arranged circularly to give a good view of the stage, no matter where one sat. The stage itself was as wide as several houses standing side by side and made of luxuriously lacquered wood. Lovely red curtains that were nine meters in height opened and closed smoothly between every scene change. Up above their heads was a giant glass dome that showed the crystal clear waters of the ocean.

  Virtuoso had been given great seats from one of the balconies to watch the performance along with some of the other members of Verre Chateau who had already arrived and done their part. The audience was utterly full to the brim with important officials and the wealthy elites of Atelier City, with Allen suspecting, rightfully so, that many of them were aware of Craft, too.

  Most importantly, Verre Chateau was doing a modern reimagining of the story of The Little Mermaid with Katelyn playing the role of the eponymous character. However, there were a few changes that made it slightly different from the original fairy tale. Instead of giving her a potion, the witch in this story, played by Evelyn, was the keeper of an enchanted tower that could grant one who could climb it the ability to walk on land at the cost of something they treasured. Another change to accentuate Katelyn’s exceptional skills better was that once the mermaid lost her voice, she picked up the violin to express herself instead.

  “Wow, I can’t believe I went this whole time without learning what the play was,” Allen commented halfway through the performance. Meanwhile, Charlotte sat next to him on his right while watching the play intensely.

  “Oh, right, you’re a member of the troupe as well. What was your job?” Allen casually asked.

  Charlotte was startled by the impromptu question and fidgeted with her fingers a bit before saying, “I’m the scriptwriter. I picked the story and adapted The Little Mermaid to fit with what we’re going for better.”

  “Oh, that’s impressive. What gave you the idea to do that?”

  “It was this book, another fairy tale reimagining.” Charlotte showed off the book she’d been reading on the train, which Allen remembered as being the one she purchased from Coffee & Chronicles last week. “You’d probably have to deduct some points for originality, but I couldn’t help but feel like translating some of the symbolism to this play would work well.”

  Allen reflected on what he could remember about Jack and the Beanstalker to understand what she was referring to. “Umm, do you mean something about ascending to new heights or something? That tower in the play is like the giant beanstalk in the book.” He finally came up with what the allusion could be, but everyone knew the giant beanstalk was something in the original fairy tale itself.

  Charlotte nodded anyway and tapped that same book sitting on her lap. “That and more, this story is about a man whose home was carried off into the clouds when the mysterious seeds he wasted his family’s savings on grew into a giant tower made of vines. It’s a tale about trading the familiar for wonder and discoveries.”

  “Huh, I always took it as a cautionary tale about the dangers of ambition, or maybe be careful what you wish for.” Allen leaned back in his cushy seat as he told her this. The young man was surprised by the message she had taken from the dark retelling, but that was not enough to alarm him at all.

  “...Sorry, I didn’t realize how odd that would sound.”

  Allen waved her worries away and pointed a thumb behind him where Nera was seated. “Don’t sweat it, Nera’s said way worse.”

  Nera yawned as she awoke from sleeping through most of the play. “What are you saying about me? It better be, thanks for carrying my side of the job.”

  “Nah, but you’d know if you kept your eyes open for longer than a minute. Don’t you want to see the play we worked so hard to make sure could happen?” Allen remarked.

  Nera shook her head as she closed her eyes again. “It’s been a busy few days, and I got to open the store early in the morning tomorrow. That’s what pays my rent. Fill me in on how good Evelyn’s performance was later, so she won’t get upset.” She drifted back to slumber seamlessly.

  Allen then realized how it sounded like he was taking credit for the Verre Chateau’s hard work when, to Charlotte, they had not done anything at all.

  “...Sorry, I may be exaggerating how much we helped out when we went to check on the train operators on the train.” The teen elaborated with a nervous chuckle.

  “Don’t worry about that either. If my romanticizing a horror story about man-eating giants in the sky can be overlooked, I can do the same with this.”

  “Well, maybe music could’ve made them easier to get along with.” Allen grinned, which earned a laugh from Charlotte. Like that, they chatted the rest of the play until the finale. That was when a part that truly surprised Allen appeared. At the climax, Katelyn summoned Fossegrim and used real magic to restore the tattered state props of the play’s finale to normal. Of course, it led to raucous applause from what many assumed were just highly advanced special effects, while others who were fully aware of what happened were even more impressed.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  ‘Did they all have this planned from the very start or…’ From one look at Charlotte beside him, he could tell she was just as astounded as he was.

  In the play, Fossegrim would not only restore the land ravaged by storms but also the mermaid’s voice so she could reveal to the world who she truly was.

  ***

  Over Allen and his friends’ heads, at the very highest level of the balconies, a group of nine individuals watched the play carefully for themselves. They were a collection of Underworld elites that made up the City Council. They were otherwise known as the leaders of the Nine Founding Families of Atelier City.

  The gallery was a spacious area with comfortable, made-to-order furniture for everyone to enjoy an ample amount of leisure, while more conventional theater seats lined the railing for a better view of any performance on the stage. Sitting in this section were two of the council. One was a middle-aged woman with hair wrapped in on bun on top of her head and fingers adorned with rings that suited the color of her turquoise pantsuit. She watched intently and silently at what occurred during the play’s climax.

  “Interesting, the girl can now summon the Greater Spirit, Fossegrim. This proves that common people are capable of wielding such catalysts for themselves, regardless of whether the gift of Craft dwells within them or not. Along with that, the Verre Chateau’s performance was even more impeccable than usual.” Hydrus Erstad, the other councilor at the railing, lauded. He was a tall man dressed in a purple blazer over a gold vest with dark hair and eyes. He made this appraisal while watching pensively from the balcony’s edge. “That report the Guard sent you turned out to be true, Leroux.”

  Hydrus turned to a younger man sitting down at his seat with silver hair and cybernetic green eyes, with arrows pointing in opposite directions replacing his pupils. He wore a sleek business suit and multiple holographic screens floating around him, keeping him updated on all matters of goings-on throughout the city, including urgent briefings from Advance Guard.

  “Indeed, I had my doubts when we decided to endorse this whole parade, but it seems our curiosity paid off. I’m even more curious now to perform some more controlled testing with better instruments to see just how the mental connection between Spirit and summoner works for a Craftless.”

  “On the contrary, what could be a more controlled test than a high-production theater performance in front of a group of the most esteemed residents of the city? I’m already prepared to donate a considerable amount to the troupe to see what other stars they can produce.” Hydrus inquired rhetorically.

  “Hmph, you talk about the municipal budget as if it were your personal bank account.” A stern woman with her auburn hair tied into a waist-length ponytail closed the book she was reading and stood to inspect the air in front of them. It shimmered with walls of sigils of a uniform, amber glow. This barrier completely sealed off their presence from the outside. It was like being in a room-sized underworld of their own where no one could enter or even be aware that this location ever existed. “We also confirmed the existence of that spectral manipulator tonight. If anything, we should be spending more on security to protect our citizens.”

  “Well, he is the treasurer of Atelier City, so its riches might as well be his,” vouched a gorgeous blonde woman who possessed a well-toned figure and a pure emerald dress with slits that revealed the sides of her long legs. She was Yolande Flandin, the matriarch of the Flandin family, who prided themselves in a physical superiority that matched that of Jotun. “For good reason, it’s much more beneficial to pour our resources into training up worthy prospects than building more prisons like you would suggest.”

  The two women stared at each other down with enough pressure to crush anyone unfortunate to cross between.

  “Last night, two of the Valkyrie’s Chosen revealed themselves with lights that dyed the very skies. There is no need to pretend that all the steps necessary have not been laid out for us to take anymore.” A man who sat apart from the others with combed-back brown hair and an inflexible expression suddenly spoke in a voice that resounded in all their ears equally. His head rested on his fist as he looked toward the rest. Of course, his fellow council members understood the truth in his words, and everyone’s thoughts aligned with what they all knew should be their next step.

  “I agree. This is our first meeting since the Sword in Stone Festival was announced, exactly as foretold, and the ‘roles’ are steadily being painted in as time goes on.” A grizzled, bearded man with black hair and a muscular build got up from his seat in the center of the council. The distinguished man began walking to the balcony's edge with a cane emblazoned with a lightning bolt. He walked past the two other leaders of the founding families. One was a grinning man with a large coat draped over his shoulders who flourished a full deck of Craft Cards between his hands back and forth. The other was a woman in gothic attire who slept in the lap of a statue in the form of a giant maiden with ethereal eyes that followed whoever walked near her.

  When he arrived at the railing of the gallery, he raised his hand above it, and the man with the holographic screens immediately tapped one of them, which virtually shifted their environment to that of a large metal chamber filled with murals of legendary events and a grand wooden board in the middle.

  It was covered with numerous pictures, but only five percent of the top was colored in while the rest remained monochrome. On its surface, there sat nine ornate pillars of marble as if this whole display was meant for some esoteric board game. Two of those pillars emitted emerald and crimson light, respectively.

  “Destiny has guided us this far, and we will share that wisdom as far as possible. To that end, we will devote all our resources to securing the foretold pieces in this so-called ‘festival.’” The elder of the council proclaimed unquestioned. “The Concealers have finally shown themselves for the scoundrels they are, but we are not going to let that discovery be the only treasure we collect from this incident. People or machines. Myth or theory. Spirits or Specters. We will obtain any tool that is needed to take the sun’s role as the light that shines upon this earth.”

  The elder lowered his hand to a dim piece that stood on the board, and it filled with a hauntingly white light.