The Blood's Elegance

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

SPRING IS FOR FESTIVAL III

Everyone was already prepared. I couldn’t recognize them under their masks, but I remembered Leslie in her orange dress and Mary wore blue. The other girl, based on her height, must be Ayuna who wore a black dress while Ann showed us her red costume. Each one of us held a gold cane. When we were sure our attires, purses, canes, and energy were ready, we walked outside our room. The boys were waiting on the first floor, not wearing any masks or hats yet, and I saw them eyeing the girls, probably not recognizing who was who. I went straight to Seth. Like me, his theme was black and violet. He offered his hand for me, and I gladly accepted it.

I looked at the boys. They were still debating who the one wearing the black dress was or who was the one in blue. Mary punched Drake on the gut.

Drake groaned and pointed his finger at her. “This one is Mary, no doubt.”

Ann sat on the lap of her boyfriend, Liam, so did Leslie who was on Frank’s. I could see Ayuna rolling her eyes before clinging her arms to Gabriel. James and Troy were left together.

“Are we ready?” Seth questioned.

We said ‘yes’ and exited their house. As soon as we step outside their front door, I felt the hot wind piercing through the fabric of my gloves and sleeves. I breathed heavily and felt dizzy, but I regained my strength by holding Seth’s arms.

“Don’t go afar, if you do not want to get lost. Houses in this place looked the same, so better remember the number on my door,” he reminded us, “and keep your phones on for any emergency.”

With this costume, we easily blended with other people. Seth’s hand ran down to intertwine his hand with mine. We walked with our group.

“What’s the history of this festival?” I asked him.

Compared to the festival I attended with my friends, the people in this place weren’t friendly. They kept their attention to their company, and every time I meet a pair of serious eyes, they would silently look away as if they saw no one… as if others apart from them were merely a ghost or nonexistent.

“This place was named Presiarella centuries ago, and the people here were called Presiarellans, of course. The citizens were divided into two class: the upper class and the lower class where the first one flaunt their wealth and beauty freely and the latter one lived with their faces covered because the nobles were disgusted of their dirty faces. Until serial killings erupted in the seventeenth century, attacking the aristocrats. It was said that people from lower class were the ones responsible for it. They were tired of being abused by the rich people, tired of being belittled, and tired of the unfairness between the two different class. Because of the growing number of murdered people, they doubled their bodyguards, but the dead people also doubled. They hired investigators, but they were also killed as they were part of the rich people, too. Rich people became powerless because they only became strong with the commoners working for them, but the lower class killed the nobles. Soon, they had no choice left, but to act like a poor rat dressed hidden by their masks. No one knew who an aristocrat was and who the commoner really was. They all lived simply until everyone in this place became rich. When the murder crime died down, they threw their masks away as a sign of abandoning the tragic era of their history, but they commemorate that happening by wearing masks, and since this place became successful, they did not weak cheap clothes anymore, but gowns.”

“You’re wrong!” It was Drake and Troy’s voice. They stopped in front of us and glared at each other.

“I knew the history better,” Troy said proudly, pointing his thumb to himself as he raised his chin.

“I am better at history than you, moron.”

He was stopped by the people behind us. “Stop, Troy. We knew how poor your grade at history was.”

“You don’t trust me?” he asked in a sad voice.

“You almost failed your history class in your fifth grade, remember?” Drake said.

Ann laughed. “You don’t even know the history of the town or even just our village.”

“I knew it! I knew it! Well, at least just about the Richardsons because they were Seth’s ancestors―”

“Troy!” his friends called, but he was unstoppable.

“Now you want me to stop talking because I’m actually good at history?” He slowly shook his head in disappointment. “Richardsons had a feud with Sanders because the latter was envious of them…”

His eyes shifted to me. He slowly closed his mouth. “Forget about that. I don’t know the continuation. I ain’t really good at history, Seah.”

He turned around and walked behind all of us. I peeked at him past behind my shoulder. Troy was silent.

“Told you I’m better at history than Troy.” Drake walked by my side. He placed his hand on my shoulder, his hand motioned his other side. “Look at this world, Seah.”

“Drake,” Seth called in his threatening voice.

“What?”He chuckled. He tapped my shoulder and inserted his hands inside the pocket. “The truth behind this festival was more tragic than what Seth told you. Listen to me.”

I nodded my head enthusiastically and focused my attention on him while Seth holds my hand to guide me where we walk.

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