Chapter 1464 — A New Play for Winter
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 5
As the days wore on into Frostmonth and the constellation of Frost Heaven climbed ever higher in the sky, the long, bitter winter of the northern continent had descended upon the whole Empire—from the eternally frozen mountains of the northern reaches to the Dark Mountains in the south, from the prosperous commercial cities of the west to the Longwind Fortress on the eastern frontier. It was as though a single night of cold wind had hastened everything: the dead leaves had all fallen, and snow had come to many parts of the realm.
In the old age that had passed, the coming of winter had meant the hardest days of the year had arrived—limited food, the exorbitant cost of keeping warm, the wretched conditions of town and country alike... Most folk could do nothing in such a season but huddle at home, carefully counting what grain and firewood remained while they waited for winter to end. There was little entertainment, to say nothing of winter amusements out of doors—those were the privilege of the upper classes.
Yet imperceptibly, such memories had already become things of a bygone age.
Philem stood at the edge of the plaza before the Shadow Theater, wrapped in heavy winter clothes, watching the crowd slowly gathering. His modest attire made it hard, at first glance, to connect him with so splendid a title as "founder of the Shadow Theater"; on a snowy winter street, he looked more like an ordinary young man who happened to have paused here, idly regarding the posters and promotional projections for the new play.
This was the first Shadow Theater in the world, and it was his—his father had been a playwright of some renown in the royal capital, with a troupe of his own, yet even so his father had never possessed a theater he could call his own. That had always been the greatest regret in his heart.
Philem himself had never imagined that his father's lifelong wish would in the end be fulfilled through him, and in such a form.
He drew a soft breath in the cold wind, smiling as he watched the theater staff bustling at the entrance and the audience filing in good order through the gates of the ticket and waiting areas—Philem loved this feeling. Though his station was now far removed from what it had once been, he still made a habit, on the day each new play opened, of putting on plain clothes and hiding himself somewhere near the theater with a good view, simply watching the crowds pour toward the gates.
It meant his heart's labor had been acknowledged—a diversion he never tired of.
The winter wind could not dampen the citizens' enthusiasm; the day a new play opened was always the liveliest hour on this block. When the turn of the seasons no longer governed daily life, cultural amusement became a natural demand of the people—and in this age, the "Shadow Theater" was the undisputed king of entertainment in the Cecil Empire.
A group passed by Philem, and the wind carried the low murmur of their talk; they were discussing the play that had just opened—
"I never would have guessed Mr. Philem's new play would be this sort of... mythological subject. I thought it'd be like all the others—big spectacular war pictures, or stories of the pioneers... Though I suppose mythological material could be interesting too."
"The new play's called Lord of All Arts. They say it's about the Goddess of Magic and the faithful saints... and about the goddess's fall..."
"Honestly, can a subject like that even be made into a Shadow Theater piece? This isn't some 'myth' a bard made up out of thin air—the Goddess of Magic... she was a real deity, you know. My grandfather's neighbor's uncle had a friend who was even a worshipper of the Goddess of Magic... Won't a play like this give offense?"