87th day of summer, 514. The Dance Festival had been two nights ago, but there was still plenty of merriment on the streets, as performers that stayed for a few days took to peddling on the corners or in the back of inns and taverns for the high-spirited folk. The celebrational time of year brought out much of the best- and sometimes the worst- in others. The air had the faint taste of ozone and insects ran scampering madly around, predicting that the mild summer sky and the thick oozey heat that rose from the sidewalk would not last and soon the smoothering hand of that warmth, like a blanket too tightly wrapped, would release all that excess hotness into the slow moving clouds well out over the sea. There was a fine spray of mist and moisture from the waterfall that only added to the sticky atmosphere of the city and even in simple clothing, sweat was showing. Salumi had never experienced a day quite like this on land. Sometimes warm currents from the ocean would flood through Charobosi, but the temperature was never quite like this so far under the water. A passing guide had muttered something about a storm brewing out at sea; but 'Lumi couldn't see it. She'd experienced a rain or two on land- a most curious sensation; to have water falling like it had. And she'd found that the waterfall that ghosted the city didn't taste so bad when she stood under the spray, but the idea of a storm conjured a different image for her. She'd have to shelter her seahorse, if the ocean currents swelled too strongly. The silt and the dust that a storm would stir up would be interesting to see, she imagined, what with the blue veins that ran so far into the ocean from Riverfall harbour out. The Charodae sat ponderously in a small outside eatery, her teeth working around a lump of honey-dipped bread with a sort of nibbling motion that spoke to the unfamiliarity of the task. She'd been assured no animals had been harmed in the making of her snack; bread and honey being highly unusual fare for her to find and still a taste that she couldn't describe as any particular flavour she knew. Aside her little table, a few musicians had set up shop, busy fiddling and stringing away a jaunty little tune that had a lively beat to it. There were four musicians in all, older men, looking like they'd gotten off a ship and were still relearning their land-legs. The oldest was whistling in time to the music and smiling encouraging at anyone who walked past, giving a nod to those who'd spared a few coins. 'Lumi was tapping her feet in time with the beat, clapping along as best she could; she wasn't exactly expertly trained but she'd been at enough family gatherings to appreciate music. It was so different from her homeland; but still beautiful. The day was yawning away, but the little corner of the Akalak's great city seemed boisterous yet. |