The Moonlight Festival

Night 1 of the Moonlight Festival

The crowd roared with excitement beneath the three moons. Lanterns flickered out one by one as people tilted their necks, wanting to see the celestial lights in full view.

Someone handed me a free beer in the midst of their conga line, their enthusiasm infectious.

I couldn't help but crack a smile as a random cat beastman jumped on top of a car and screamed, "Let's party till we're angels!"

I stood at the edge of the chaos, breathless as I took in the beauty of all three full moons. I've heard tales in history class, but seeing it in person was quite a different story.

Only the goddesses know which way the moons will turn. It felt like a celestial sign, a light to guide my way through this night... though I wasn't one to believe in such powers.

But despite the wonder of it all, something in the air clawed at me. An unshakable unease. Like I was standing on the edge of something dangerous.

The feeling grew louder, sharper... until it became a sound. A low mechanical rumble that my ears caught before my brain could process. The joyous chatter of the festival began to fade, drowned out by the roar of an engine.

I lowered my gaze just as a pair of headlights tore through the moon-lit streets. The screech of tires snapped me back to reality.

Before I could react, the car swerved toward me. The blinding headlights swallowed everything, and then... crash.

♢ ♢ ♢

"Am I dead?" I mumbled, staring at the cracked pavement beneath my head.

I sat up, my whole body aching in pain as my gaze landed on the car...

...Or what was left of it.

The front was crumpled, demolished as if it had rammed headfirst into a tree... and lost.

The crowd began to gather, their voices all blending into background noise.

"Are you okay?" someone asked, but I couldn't focus on them. My eyes were fixed on the car. The hood was crumpled like paper, and the fire gems in the engine were cracked... a repair that would cost at least ten thousand seeds.

The lights at the front slowly started to dimmer along with any hope for this car's life...

The driver's side door creaked open. It didn't swing so much as....

CRASH

Out stepped a man in his 40s. His polished shoes crunched against the shards of glass on the ground.

His suit was pristine. Not just neat, but unnervingly spotless, like the crash hadn't touched him. He walked slowly until he stood towering over me. To him all this chaos, was just another day in Cirque...

I blinked up at him, my words caught in my throat.

"Well, don't just sit there gawking, brat," he snapped. "What were you doing standing in the middle of the road? Trying to get yourself killed?"

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. My brain scrambled for anything, anything. My words started to choke in my own throat.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, "Do you know how much this is going to cost me? I should..."

I finally managed to find my voice, cutting him off, "H-hey I didn't mean... to..."

"Mean to?!" His voice rose, silencing even the ongoing party goers, "What part of standing in the road makes sense to you, huh? Do you think you're above the rules?"

"I was not breaking any law! If anyone was breaking the rules, it's you for speeding in Downtown West Cirque"

"Speeding? Please, if I was going even a mile past the speed limit you'd be dead."

"....."

The crowd was growing now, beastmen and humans all wondering what was commotion was happening.

The man sighed heavily, his earlier anger simmering down into something colder, more calculating. "Look," he said, running a hand through his immaculate hair. "I don't have time for this. I've got places to be, and you... well, you clearly owe me. Big time." He gestured to his ruined car.

"Owe you?" I repeated, confused. "You hit me ! If anything, you owe—"

"Nope," he interrupted, placing a finger on my lips, "That's not how this works. You're the one who caused the accident, standing in the middle of the road like an idiot. And now you're going to pay for it."

I stared at him, my mind struggling to keep up. "Pay for it? How? I don't have...!"

"You'll work it off," he said, cutting me off again. "Starting tomorrow morning. Be at Rockaburger City by eight sharp. Don't be late."

"Rockaburger... what?" The words didn't make sense. None of this made sense.

But he didn't wait for me to respond. He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me sitting in the middle of the street, stunned and seething. I wasn't even able to look at him in the eyes as he berated me... The crowd parted for him as he passed, their whispers trailing behind him as he entered a crowded restaurant called Rockaburger City.