Mir Gut Festar es

  Phrase/song

  Translation: Happy Birthday to you

  This phrase is used in the song "Happy Birthday" to convey well wishes on someone's birthday.

  Lyric: Mir Gut Festar es, Mir Gut Festar es, Mir Gut Festar amo tu, Mir Gut Festar es!

  It was a cold Long Night.

  Orlo struggled against the biting chill, his breath visible in the freezing air as he wrestled with the main door of the Durgestea Mansion.

  Cradling Maggie while balancing the boxed cake and his cane, he pushed against the stubborn door handle with his elbow. With a satisfying click, it swung open.

  Darra came to his aid, "Where have you been in this cold?" she asked, scolding as she took Maggie and the white box from Orlo's numb hands.

  Brushing off the thick snow that had accumulated on his shoulders and boots, Orlo chuckled. "I went for a walk. It's important I keep moving so I don't end up with a dead leg." It was meant to be a joke, but it fell flat between them.

  Darra shook her head, slightly irritated, "Well, go take a hot bath. The girls should arrive any time soon."

  "They went off together? Without me? Did something happen?"

  Darra's eyes widened, and she looked at him with sheer astonishment as if she were seeing a ghost, a disaster, or something terrible about to or had already happened.

  Orlo could feel a knot tighten in his stomach; her usual calm demeanour, replaced by something resembling shock, made his heart race even faster. "Darra, did something happen? Is it Zora? Muna?" he pressed. “Lisa?”

  "Oh, sweet child, you don't remember!" Darra exclaimed, her face suddenly alight with the effort not to release a chuckle.

  A heavy burden had been lifted in an instant, but Orlo was still confused, "I don't remember what?"

  Ignoring his question, Darra placed her hands firmly on his back and began steering him towards the staircase. "Go up and clean yourself. I will call you once everything is ready," she instructed affectionately, leaving no room for argument.

  "For dinner? It's still early, isn’t it?"

  "Go!" Darra commanded as she disappeared into the hallway.

  He didn't protest further. He was exhausted. And indeed, a hot bath seemed like the perfect remedy.

  The Little Mouse trotted silently behind him, her energy and sassiness subdued as if left outside in Long Night. Orlo made a mental note to treat her to some cheese later—she wasn't one to hold grudges, but he couldn't shake the feeling that today, he might have pushed her boundaries too far.

  After indulging in the steaming bath longer than necessary, letting the heat soak into his weary muscles and clear the cobwebs of confusion from his mind, he felt a measure of relief. He reluctantly emerged from the bathroom, trailing clouds of steam into his bedroom, his skin and wings still radiating the comforting warmth.

  He decided against the corset today; there was no need for formalities within the safe confines of his own home. As he dressed in a simple linen tunic and pants that ended just above his ankles, he moved about his room, still trying to piece together the earlier conversation with Darra. She didn’t seem alarmed, so it was probably nothing.

  That's when he noticed an envelope lying on his desk summoning him. It was out of place amidst the usual clutter of books and papers.

  He reached for it, wondering what it could contain and why it had been left there.

  Orlo turned the big envelope over in his hands, searching for a clue to the sender—no names, no markings, except for a striking blue seal impressed with the signet of a closed eye. His thumb traced the design before he broke the seal.

  Inside, he found a collection of documents that seemed to outline a whole other life: a house deed issued to Edgar O. Duvencrune, various identification papers bearing the same name, a driver's license, a Regulus University pass complete with a plan for all the semesters he was to attend, and a simple key that gave no hint as to what it might unlock but he thought that it would be for the house mentioned on the papers. The last item was a note written in a clear hand—his own calligraphy.

  He inspected the documents closely. The black-and-white photos on the identification and driver's license were unmistakable of his own face, though he had no memory of taking them. The name Edgar O. Duvencrune was foreign to his tongue, yet it was apparently the identity he was to assume.

  Orlo's lips curled into a wry smirk as he could decipher part of the mystery; the "O" in Edgar O. Duvencrune clearly stood for his first name, and Duvencrune was his mother's maiden name. But "Edgar"?

  That was a curveball—Why Edgar?

  A sudden burst of commotion from downstairs sliced through his thoughts. The sounds of arrival—doors banging, voices mingling—suggested that guests had arrived.

  Yet, before he could investigate, his attention was drawn back to the note in his hand, a message from this Edgar O. Duvencrune. A message from himself to himself.

  He unfolded the note, scanning the handwritten lines with his eyes. Then, he laid the documents back on the desk and left his room.

  As he approached the staircase, the sounds of steps and conversations grew louder, a cacophony of familiar voices. He could swear he recognized some of them, if not all.

  Midway down the stairs, the source of the celebration became clear. A large white cloth banner stretched across the main hall, with boldly painted blue letters proclaiming, 'Happy Birthday Teacher!' It was held aloft by Muna, Zora and two of his former students.

  Orlo paused. He had forgotten.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Forcing a smile, Orlo continued his descent, adopting a feigned surprise and mock indignation tone. "I didn't know there was a party! Why was I not invited!"

  Orlo moved among his former students, each greeting more heartwarming than the last. They shared their successes with him—one by one—flashing diplomas and grade reports with pride.

  Bernard, one of the oldest of the group, eagerly explained how the new teacher had embraced Orlo's educational plan. "She really took to your plans," Bernard said with an appreciative nod. "And thanks to Monica, everything transitioned smoothly. She ensured everything you set up continued as you would have wanted."

  "Monica?"

  At the mention of the name, both Orlo and Zora, who had been mingling nearby, felt a sudden drop in their stomachs. Their world seemed to tilt slightly, the ground unsteady beneath their feet.

  They exchanged a look, a silent communication filled with confusion and an unspoken question: Didn't we kill her?

  "Yeah, she is really good at it. I think she wants to be a teacher, too." Bernard's enthusiasm about Monica's aspirations was endearing, yet his innocent endorsement seemed to deepen the mystery rather than clarify it.

  As he moved to meld back into the festive crowd, Zora's hand reached out, her grip firm on his shoulder, halting him with an urgency that was gently veiled under a calm exterior.

  "When was the last time you saw her?" Zora asked, but her eyes searched Bernard's face for clues, her concern thinly masked.

  The boy paused, his previously buoyant demeanour faltering as he sensed the shift in tone. "Two days ago. Why? Something wrong?" The question lingered in the air, his brows knitting together in sudden concern. His glance darted between Orlo and Zora, picking up on their shared anxiety. "Is she in trouble?"

  "Don't worry, buddy. Everything is fine. We were just surprised, that's all. She hasn't been… reachable," Orlo chimed in.

  "Oh, she left yesterday with her new family. I think they moved to Turtle or something-something; I can’t remember. She didn't give any details, though." The boy shrugged, casual dismissal, "I tried to keep in touch, but… well, I guess after high school, people just part in different ways."

  Orlo and Zora exchanged a glance, each reading the concern in the other's eyes.

  Orlo maintained his forced smile. "Go join the others. I just need to… talk to Zora for a moment."

  Bernard nodded, picking up on the subtle cue. With a brief, understanding look, he turned, and his large figure was soon swallowed up by the jovial crowd.

  Once Bernard was out of earshot, the forced smiles faded, replaced by expressions of concern. They turned to each other, the noise around them dimming as Zora asked, "What just happened? I killed her!"

  Orlo pushed her deeper into the hallway, his hand buried in his pocket while his foot tapped an anxious rhythm on the floor. "I think it is not good enough to cut their heads."

  "Well, right now, there is nothing we can do," she responded with resignation. “It is not like I can go after her and cut her head off again.”

  "No, you can't, but it is alarming. If chopping them off is not enough, what can stop them?"

  Just as the tension between them seemed to peak, Muna's voice sliced through the air, "What are you two doing there?" she called out, "The party is here! Not in the halls!"

  Orlo and Zora, nudged by Muna's lighthearted chiding, followed her back into the living room.

  The festivities took a tuneful turn when the students gathered around, ready to sing 'Happy Birthday' to Orlo in Menschen.

  Mir Gut Festar es,

  Mir Gut Festar es,

  Mir Gut Festar amo tu,

  Mir Gut Festar es.

  Although moved by the gesture and the warmth behind their intentions, Orlo found it challenging to keep a straight face as the song progressed. The students' enthusiasm was undeniable, but their grasp of Menschen was tenuous at best. Words were mangled beyond recognition, turning the birthday song into a series of comical sounds that were more gibberish than melody.

  Despite the linguistic butchery, Orlo's heart warmed at the effort. Their cheerful, albeit off-key rendition made the moment endearingly memorable, even in its imperfection.

  As the celebration continued, Orlo observed that nobody had ventured to cut the chocolate cake yet, its glossy icing untouched amidst the array of appetizers and entrees that were quickly diminishing under the eager hands of the students.

  He noticed Zora's gaze fixated on the chocolate cake. She seemed hesitant, almost reverent, as if waiting for a ceremonial moment to approach it. Intrigued by her fixation and eager to break the unspoken tension around the cake, Orlo set down his fork with a clink against his plate and reached for a butterknife.

  "What are you doing?" she reprimanded, as though she couldn't believe he was about to breach the bogus protocol of the untouched cake.

  "Getting my first present," Orlo replied with a mischievous smile, slicing through the cake with ease and lifting a generous piece onto two plates—one for him and one for Zora.

  "What are you doing? You don't even like chocolate," she said as she accepted the plate he offered. Her statement was true—Orlo had always been vocal about his indifference towards chocolate—but today, he wanted something special. Something unique.

  Orlo just winked at her, his smile widening. "Today, it's not about what I like. It's about celebrating with everyone... and maybe trying something new for a change," he said.

  "Orlo, you don't like it."

  "True, but you do," Orlo said as he handed her the plate.

  He watched as he took his first bite, and immediately, her eyes lit up with pleasure. Despite his own reservations about chocolate—too sweet, too rich for his palate—he couldn't help but partake as well, spooning a large bite into his mouth. The chocolate was as overwhelming as he remembered, but the sight of Zora's delighted smile made everything worthwhile.

  She loved eating chocolate. And he loved her.

  Muna swept in, breaking his moment. With a brisk tug, she pulled him away to a quieter corner of the room. In her hands was a neatly wrapped box adorned with lacing.

  "What is it?" Orlo asked.

  "Just open it!" Muna replied, excited and with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes that suggested she was particularly pleased with whatever lay hidden within the wrapping.

  Eagerly, yet with a hint of ceremonial slowness, Orlo untied the laces and peeled back the paper.

  He carefully placed his old cane against the wall as he reached for the new mystery inside the box. His eyes narrowed in appreciation and a hint of surprise as he lifted the silvered cane.

  It was elegantly crafted, its shaft adorned with intricate lines that his thumbs traced thoughtfully. Turning it over in his hands, he felt the craftsmanship and magic imbued within.

  "How?" he asked, his gaze lifting from the gleaming metal to meet Muna's eyes, searching for an explanation.

  "I noticed I never saw you using solar magic, so I suppose that..." Muna began, her voice trailing off slightly. She was uncertain how to explain her reasoning for such a personal gift.

  "But how would you know?"

  "Orlo, no matter what you or others call you, you are still a Sternach. It's in your blood," Muna responded, "If you had used solar magic, maybe you wouldn't have gotten hurt. So, I wanted to make something that would help."

  "You made this? This... this is Magistek, Muna, this is really good!" Orlo was astonished and prude as he set the cane on the ground, taking a few steps to test its feel. It supported him perfectly, almost as if tailored to his every movement. In a sudden playful gesture, he tossed the cane higher, and as it spun in the air, he noticed an engraving: 'one-one-one.'

  "Why did you carve 'one-one-one'?" he asked, catching the cane effortlessly. “Any meaning?”

  Muna shrugged, a slight smile playing on her lips. "I have no idea; the weaponsmith took some liberties, I think."

  The festive ambience was momentarily punctured by the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house. After a few tense minutes, Darra's voice cut through the chatter, calling Zora and Orlo away from the lively party to the front door. There, a post officer stood with two envelopes, one for each of them.

  Orlo took the envelope addressed to him from Regulus. As he tore it open and scanned the first lines, a radiant smile broke across his face, illuminating it with pure elation. "They unfroze my application to Regulus University! I got in! With a scholarship, fully! And, and...” he exclaimed, barely containing his excitement.

  He looked over at Darra, who shared his joy with a smile that mirrored his own. "I am expected at the soonest!" he added, the words bursting forth like a sudden release of pent-up hopes.

  Zora, on the other hand, was silent, her expression serious as she absorbed the contents of her own letter. She read and reread the lines, her focus so intense that it seemed she was searching for something hidden between them.

  "Zora?"

  Slowly, Zora lifted her eyes, first to Darra and then to Orlo. "I have been summoned to my Trial of Elements. I leave on the first boat… to Ormgrund."