Otts and Ynés in the Carnival of Reason

I. The Carnival of Reason

Ottavio de la Helice – Otts to his peers – stood in awe near the entrance to Tundun Fairgrounds. Beyond the imposing whalebone arch, the fiesta was already underway.

Otts had been to the Fairgrounds before – with his folks during Nativity season and on field trips in his primary school days.However, this was his first visit as a would-be Gentleman. His collar dampened with sweat as he considered the possibilities.

"Halt!" he called out, "Mayhaps this is not such a great idea. We're meant to be in class right now."

At only ten-and-seven summers, Otts was a youngling compared to most of his cohort at the Encantuary of Kota Maynilad. Kervin Xoon – the scion of a well-to-do Sangley clan – was no exception.

"Don't be daft!" said Kervin. "We're not in segundario anymore. Once you reach the bacc, the lectures are practically an option. The sages trust us to decide which experiences to learn from. Now make haste!"

By force of habit, Otts glanced at the clock tower outside the Capitólio: it was meridian-and-two on a Vierne. That meant his cohorts were probably in the middle of Dilimology class. In less well-learned times, it was known as the Dark Sciences but the reality was far less sinister. It mostly involved kneeling in the obscuratorium while Guru Faisal instructed the tutees to identify different types of shades with their aninometers.

Otts understood that such rote methods instilled a kind of discipline. He sensed the faintest pang of guilt, knowing that he preferred to be exactly where he was. After all, Dilimology class happened several times a week but the ten-and-fifth of Pebrero – the Feast Day of San Galileo – came but once each Calendar of Scholars.

Kervin grabbed Otts by the wrist, dragging him into the fiesta.

"Come on, you laggard!" said Kervin. "If you want to go all the way back to the Encantuary, I won't stop you. But if you're sticking around, don't make me your babysitter, for Plato's sake!"

Otts tried his best not to look so wonderstruck as the boys made their way through the crowd. The fiesta brought in mundizens from all over the sphere. There were peddlers hawking wyrm-silk from far Kathaay and "Arabesque" earthenware of dubious origin. The pair knew better than to indulge the glazed soya cutlets and over-priced tarsier skewers, no matter how delicious it smelled. They wisely ignored the call of barkers, who lured marks into sordid displays: cockatrice fossils, "real live merfolk", and various long-forgotten holy relics.

At last, they found what Kervin had been looking for: a raised platform in the middle of the central square, thronged by all manner of glamorous ruffians. Most of them looked quite fancy but mildly hostile and oh so bored. Kervin was usually lax in most situations but Otts noticed him pause to mess his coif and smear grooming tar across his eyelids. With that, the pair made their way deep into the fray.