Editing Amaryllis in the Ice Country:Chapter 3 (section)

===Part 3===

After that, another two weeks pass.

The lights shine upon the ice-carved stage, creating a dazzling crystal effect. The center of the arena is filled with a scattered-style audience seating, as the three hundred plus villagers are all gathered here.

The prayer festival we awaited is finally here. The passion brimming from the audience reaches the stage, as though trying to melt it. The festival is going to be held from morning to night, and all work is suspended. I too intend to enjoy the festival before it’s my turn to ascend the stage.

But,

“Why are you sitting beside me?”

“It’s fine. Don’t be so rigid.”

“Seating’s in order of performance. This is the Chief’s seat.”

“I got the old man’s permission.”

“Ugh…Chief…”

This rare relaxation time I finally have is ruined by this flirting guy. “Hey, stop touching me.” “Ehehe.” So this exchange continue on over and over again, and in the blink of an eye, it’s time for the performance.

Ta—talatatatata tattala♪

A sextet happily blow the trumpets “Kept us waiting!” “It’s here!” “Heerrrreee!” and the audience roar into life. There are shrieks in this fiery atmosphere.

“And now, the 108th Masters’ Revival Prayer Ceremony shall begin.”

With a beautiful voice, the host Cattleya announces the start of the festival, and the audience burst into cheers again.

“Greetings from the Chief.”

And amidst the thunderous applause, Chief Chamomile shows up on the stage. The way his head rolls around on the stage is as terrifying as a zombie in a horror flick.

“This is the Chief Chamomile speaking!!”

He repeats the greeting that remains the same for over a hundred year, “Chief!!” “You still doing okay!?” “So cute!!” and voices can be heard from the audience.

“As you all know, this Revival Prayer Festival is for a ritual to let our beloved masters sleep well, and that one day, they will revive. In other words—”

The Prayer Festival is a traditional festivity with a hundred years of history. At first, it’s simply a yearly ritual to offer ‘prayers’ to our Masters, but as time passes, there is singing, dancing and all kinds of entertainment involved. In this sense, while it is to provide entertainment for the villagers who have lived underground for a long time, the main purpose is to train their ‘talents’ such that the acts can be performed to the masters once they awake. The programs are graded according to voting, and the basis of the voting is decided on “Can it make our masters happy”.

“In other words, this Prayer Festival isn’t just for entertainment, but also an exalted purpose to be honed for our masters—”

And about thirty minutes into the Chief’s speech, “It’s too long!” “Enough already!” “Get down now!” an endless amount of boos ring. This too happen every year, and the Chief, who always appears in the midst of thunderous applause, will sheepishly slip off the stage amidst boos. “Don’t throw any items!” “This includes screws!” Cattleya, in charge of managing the scene, will holler,

Once the Chief’s address is done, the staff will clean up the screw and screwcaps on the stage (these will be returned to their masters once done), and then, a trumpet’s cry signals the start again.

—It’s finally here.

“Entry number 1! Please welcome Miss Ceolaria and Mr Curl!” (Ceolaria, short for Calceolaria, Curl, short for Ivory Curl)

As Cattleya’s beautiful voice rings, a man and woman appear on stage.

One of them is Miss Ceolaria, who has the appearance of an eighty-year-old domestic robot. She’s the ‘replacement robot’ created by a husband who lost his wife and wanted to alleviate his loneliness, and she continues to live even after her master died. The other, Mr Curl, once worked in a famous orchestra, and is now the premier musician in the village.

“I’m really nervous to be chosen first. Now then, I shall perform the ‘Spearmint Genesis’ my deceased husband loved.

Miss Ceolaria bows elegantly, and the crowd immediately burst into applause before becoming silent again. There’s no commotion, as everyone knows that it’s time to be silent. As her partner, Mr Curl carries his signature electronic viola, and stands diagonally behind her.

The uninterrupted melody of the viola flows out, and Miss Ceolaria starts to sing.

Before humans are born, in a time far beyond.

The many messengers of god, appear in the sky.

With tears in eyes, they became rain of grace.

Thus the seas are born, the seas are born.

With a clear yet despondent voice, she sings a hymn that reveals how the world is born The arena is engulfed in a solemn atmosphere, and everyone feels melancholic, gloomy. Miss Ceolaria’s program has never changed over the past thirty years, but whenever I listen to it, it just feels so new, the first time I have heard it.

“…So it ends. Thank you all for listening.”

Once the singing and performance are over, a thunderous applause rain upon the stage again. Both of them bow, and return to the side of the stage.

—This is a nice song..

As I narrow my eyes and enjoy the lingering emotions, Cattleya’s voice rings again.

“Continuing on, Entry Number Two! It’s little Vicia and Grayano performing a magic show!” <ref>Short for Grayanotoxin.</ref>