Ren sat on a wooden bench in front of the Rhythmic House that morning. The air in Flerouge was still cool from the previous night's rain. He clutched his scarf, gazing at the street as it began to bustle. He had been in this city for three days. Every morning, he headed to the central art market to inquire about the merchant caravans from Fiore. People said the caravans usually arrived every two weeks, bringing goods from Magnolia.
Ren wanted to join them because the bird emblem on his mother's cloth looked remarkably like a guild crest there. He wasn't in a hurry; he had enough coins from Captain Ravel to cover his food and lodging.
Lina, the owner of the inn, stepped out carrying a warm cup of tea.
"Ren, waiting for the caravan again? I asked a merchant at the market yesterday. They said the Fiore caravan will arrive tomorrow or the day after. If you'd like, you can help me in the kitchen while you wait. Light work, and you'll get a free lunch."
Ren nodded. "Alright, Lina-san. I'll help. While I'm at it, I can ask more about this city. I only just learned that Minstrel has such a long history."
Lina smiled and sat beside him for a moment.
The History of the Dance Kingdom
"That's right," Lina began. "Minstrel isn't just a city of dance. Long ago, before it became a single kingdom, this place was just a collection of small, competing cities. They held dance festivals every year—not with swords or great magic, but with movement and music. One day, Bosco came and tried to conquer us. The cities were nearly destroyed. But there was a dancer named Saintess Lyrica. She united everyone with a single sacred dance. Without a single drop of blood spilled, Bosco retreated. Since then, Minstrel became a kingdom led by a Dance Queen or King, chosen through the Grand Dance Coronation every ten years."
Ren listened intently while sipping his tea. "So, dance is that important here?"
"Vital," Lina replied, standing up. "Dance isn't just entertainment. It's how they speak, give thanks, and resolve conflicts. Come on, to the kitchen. I'll tell you more while we work."
A Taste of the Rhythm Plate
The kitchen of the Rhythmic House was small but tidy. A large pot simmered over the stove. Lina assigned Ren the task of chopping vegetables. While cutting carrots, Ren asked another question.
"Lina-san, does the food in Minstrel have a connection to that history too?"
Lina chuckled softly. "It does. Our specialty dishes are always served in an interesting way. We call it a Rhythm Plate. It's not just arranged normally; some parts are moved gently by the wind or small vibrations from musical instruments on the table. Take the chicken stew with red spices, for example. People say it was Saintess Lyrica's favorite meal while she practiced. Now, every eatery in Flerouge has its own version. There's also sweet bread filled with berries, served with syrup that flows like the rhythm of a song. People here eat while listening to music or watching performers on small stages."
Ren nodded slowly. He chopped onions without shedding a tear, a skill he'd picked up back on the ship. "I've had spicy stew on the ship before, but there seem to be so many more choices here."
The Four Dances of Minstrel
Throughout the morning, Ren listened to stories from Lina and the guests who stopped by. A small-time trader named Jiro came in to buy bread and shared more detailed history.
"Minstrel almost lost the war against Bosco because they didn't have a large army," Jiro explained. "But Saintess Lyrica taught everyone that the movement of dance can unite people. Now, every child here learns basic dance in school at the Academy of Eternal Rhythm. It's seven years of mandatory education."
According to Jiro, they learn four primary types of dance:
Lyrica: To call upon the power of the earth.
Battaglia: For combat training.
Amore: For matters of the heart.
Fantasia: To create small illusions on stage.
"So dance is like a school subject here?" Ren asked while washing dishes.
"It's more than that," Jiro replied. "It's part of daily life. Even punishments involve dance. If someone commits a major wrong, they must dance in public without music for a year. They say it's incredibly shameful. But that rarely happens now because people prefer to settle problems through festivals."
Learning the Wind Flute
In the afternoon, Ren walked to the food market near the Great Dance Lake. The market was vibrant, with stalls releasing mouth-watering aromas. Ren stopped at a busy stall run by a young woman named Sari.
"Want to try a Rhythm Plate, kid? This is the budget version. Fish stew with yellow spices and bread filled with sweet beans."
Ren paid with a small coin and sat on a wooden bench by the lake. The stew was warm with a gentle sweet-and-spicy kick. On a small stage nearby, three people were practicing movements while playing instruments. Ren was particularly drawn to a long, black wooden flute.
He approached one of the musicians during their break. "Sir, what is that instrument called? The one you blow into?"
The musician, a man named Ben, smiled. "This is a Wind Flute. It's the easiest wind instrument in Minstrel. All it takes is breath and fingers. If you want to try, I can lend you my spare. Many children here start with this."
Ren hesitated but eventually nodded. Under Ben's guidance, Ren blew into the flute. At first, the sound was thin and raspy, but he didn't give up.
"Good," Ben laughed. "You're a quick study. Most people blow too hard and just make noise. Try covering the first hole with your index finger. Blow again."
Ren followed the instructions. The note shifted. For ten minutes, he sat at the edge of the stage, experimenting. He realized that perhaps music was the way people in Minstrel expressed feelings without words.
Departure for Fiore
Over the next few days, Ren settled into a routine: helping Lina in the kitchen, learning the history of the kingdom, and practicing the flute with Ben every afternoon.
On the final morning of his wait, Ren headed to the northern docks. A large horse-drawn carriage with the Fiore flag arrived. Ren approached the caravan leader, a tall man named Marco.
"Sir, may I join you to Fiore? I have this cloth with a bird symbol... it looks like a guild mark there."
Marco inspected the cloth and nodded. "You can. we leave tomorrow morning. You'll pay a small fee and help carry luggage. Your name?"
"Ren."
"Alright, Ren. Rest up tonight. It's a long journey ahead."
That final night in Flerouge, Ren practiced the Wind Flute in his room. His playing had become much smoother. He thought about the history of Saintess Lyrica, the rhythmic food, and the music he had come to love. He was going to Fiore, but he was taking a piece of Minstrel with him.
Ren fell asleep that night with the flute by his bedside. The journey was still long, but he had already learned so much in this city of dance.