37th Summer 513AV. The Cedar Ampitheater.
Twenty seven days in Wind Reach and it was only getting progressively hotter and hotter. The summers in Lhavit carried the heat, too, but none of this stickiness of Wind Reach. The caves afforded some cool but they were always stuffed to the brim with Inartans laughing and yelling and flirting. Johanne missed the quiet and the open skies of Lhavit. She missed the cool mountain breezes and the bridges with the dizzying drops. But they said that it was on the road that one found stories, and there was no way she could go back just yet...
The Inarta, though, could not be said to be anything like the Lhavitians, with their quiet meditation and their soft prayers sung to the moon. No, this was a city that seemed to never sleep, a city that laughed and celebrated and lived life like they were riding the winds at every moment. A city that revelled in community. And here Johanne sat, at another event that promoted this unity between all Inarta. The Cedar Amphitheatre was the closest she could get to the gardens of Lhavit, like the Alhaes Park: beautiful cedars echoing in the tone, silent and never growing, watching the mountain carefully. This day there was to be a singing competition for the Inarta that did not find themselves chained to tasks elsewhere. It was mid-morning, the sun not too hot yet, but the competition may run into midday when the sun would burn those it touched.
A young man stepped forth into the middle of the amphitheatre. The others seated on the stone benches carved into the mountain hushed: some to participate in the competition, some to cheer on friends, and others, like Johanne, to simply take pause and listen to the beautiful singers before her (and some not so beautiful). He was Roul, and in charge of performances in the amphitheatre.
"Welcome to the Singing Competition of Summer!" he cried. It was obvious that he was used to standing on this stage: he commanded presence, and his voice carried just perfectly. "The rules are simple: one after another, you will stand and sing three verses of any song you choose, without accompaniment. I will be judging you all based on several criteria, and perhaps applause can swing me either way. I cannot promise any kind of prize but the adulation of your peers, so everyone, cheer loudly! If you are performing, please sit somewhere near the first few rows and stand up when there is a spot." With that, he took a seat off to the side and waited for the first performer to stand.
Johanne was sitting near the back. She did not understand a single word; all clicks and whistles, but she did not need to understand: she was only hear to listen to songs in words she could not understand, sung with emotion that she could.
xTwenty seven days in Wind Reach and it was only getting progressively hotter and hotter. The summers in Lhavit carried the heat, too, but none of this stickiness of Wind Reach. The caves afforded some cool but they were always stuffed to the brim with Inartans laughing and yelling and flirting. Johanne missed the quiet and the open skies of Lhavit. She missed the cool mountain breezes and the bridges with the dizzying drops. But they said that it was on the road that one found stories, and there was no way she could go back just yet...
The Inarta, though, could not be said to be anything like the Lhavitians, with their quiet meditation and their soft prayers sung to the moon. No, this was a city that seemed to never sleep, a city that laughed and celebrated and lived life like they were riding the winds at every moment. A city that revelled in community. And here Johanne sat, at another event that promoted this unity between all Inarta. The Cedar Amphitheatre was the closest she could get to the gardens of Lhavit, like the Alhaes Park: beautiful cedars echoing in the tone, silent and never growing, watching the mountain carefully. This day there was to be a singing competition for the Inarta that did not find themselves chained to tasks elsewhere. It was mid-morning, the sun not too hot yet, but the competition may run into midday when the sun would burn those it touched.
A young man stepped forth into the middle of the amphitheatre. The others seated on the stone benches carved into the mountain hushed: some to participate in the competition, some to cheer on friends, and others, like Johanne, to simply take pause and listen to the beautiful singers before her (and some not so beautiful). He was Roul, and in charge of performances in the amphitheatre.
"Welcome to the Singing Competition of Summer!" he cried. It was obvious that he was used to standing on this stage: he commanded presence, and his voice carried just perfectly. "The rules are simple: one after another, you will stand and sing three verses of any song you choose, without accompaniment. I will be judging you all based on several criteria, and perhaps applause can swing me either way. I cannot promise any kind of prize but the adulation of your peers, so everyone, cheer loudly! If you are performing, please sit somewhere near the first few rows and stand up when there is a spot." With that, he took a seat off to the side and waited for the first performer to stand.
Johanne was sitting near the back. She did not understand a single word; all clicks and whistles, but she did not need to understand: she was only hear to listen to songs in words she could not understand, sung with emotion that she could.
