Winter 84, 516 AV
Springwater Square
It began after sunset.
The wind howled between the mountains. Rain came down in irregular sheets, sometimes stopping altogether, sometimes pouring cats and dogs. The weather had been the same all day, so Estrellir had holed up inside her apartment. Playing with Sir Alwin and sleeping could only occupy her so long though, so on a tentative trip outside she’d gathered some rumors. A party was to be hosted by Zintila Herself, that night, when the storm was supposed to be at its worst. During that party, something extraordinary would happen.
And people did come out after sunset.
Not many, but enough to spark the Konti’s interest. She would’ve liked to prepare herself more conventionally for bracing a storm on the mountaintop (meaning, for her, to consult books and possibly weather experts), but as her decision was last moment, she merely took care to dress warmly: two layers of tunics, cloak, wool scarf and gloves. Leather boots, as waterproof as they came. Checking her myriad pockets one last time, Estrellir tucked the hood over her ivory locks and ventured out into wet chaos.
Never had she experienced storms like that in Kenash, perhaps the plains didn’t lend themselves to such extreme conditions. Torrential rain, yes, but water and wind and biting cold combined were something else entirely. Still, she managed to find Springwater Square, the beating heart of the party.
For it was already in full swing, only a bell or two after sunset. Music was provided by the frantic white noise of rain on stone and the wind howling between the peaks. Just as Estrellir stepped on the cobbled square, distant thunder reached her ears. Yet she was too entranced by the sight before her violet eyes to worry about the dangers of lightning. Dancers were moving near the fountain: Most were huddled directly in front, some in small groups all around, some even in the fountain itself. Still more were arriving, joining the others, swaying, twirling and shaking limbs in tune with their neighbors. Strangely hypnotizing, the Konti thought, trying to hear music that wasn’t there.
She’d planned to merely watch and observe, like the solitary figures lining the square. With robes whipping about in the wind, they seemed to be mages on duty. Keeping out of the storm, preserving precious head and energy. It would’ve been the rational thing to do. And yet, before she knew it, Estrellir found herself dancing with a tall dark-skinned man and a girl with huge black almond eyes and braids. It was easier than expected, soon she lost herself in the movement, following the wind wherever it nudged her, relishing the rain on her face, not even caring whose hair clung to her brow or slapped her cheeks. It was hypnotic and she’d been caught.
As she was shorter than (pretty much) everyone else, however, she got pushed and shoved (possibly) more than anyone else. One time an elbow hit her in the temple and suddenly the sparkling diamonds of Zintila’s dress multiplied. Soon after, there was an apologetic pat on the head, but Estrellir almost didn’t notice. Zintila’s dress… the sight rang a bell, distant…
Springwater Square
It began after sunset.
The wind howled between the mountains. Rain came down in irregular sheets, sometimes stopping altogether, sometimes pouring cats and dogs. The weather had been the same all day, so Estrellir had holed up inside her apartment. Playing with Sir Alwin and sleeping could only occupy her so long though, so on a tentative trip outside she’d gathered some rumors. A party was to be hosted by Zintila Herself, that night, when the storm was supposed to be at its worst. During that party, something extraordinary would happen.
And people did come out after sunset.
Not many, but enough to spark the Konti’s interest. She would’ve liked to prepare herself more conventionally for bracing a storm on the mountaintop (meaning, for her, to consult books and possibly weather experts), but as her decision was last moment, she merely took care to dress warmly: two layers of tunics, cloak, wool scarf and gloves. Leather boots, as waterproof as they came. Checking her myriad pockets one last time, Estrellir tucked the hood over her ivory locks and ventured out into wet chaos.
Never had she experienced storms like that in Kenash, perhaps the plains didn’t lend themselves to such extreme conditions. Torrential rain, yes, but water and wind and biting cold combined were something else entirely. Still, she managed to find Springwater Square, the beating heart of the party.
For it was already in full swing, only a bell or two after sunset. Music was provided by the frantic white noise of rain on stone and the wind howling between the peaks. Just as Estrellir stepped on the cobbled square, distant thunder reached her ears. Yet she was too entranced by the sight before her violet eyes to worry about the dangers of lightning. Dancers were moving near the fountain: Most were huddled directly in front, some in small groups all around, some even in the fountain itself. Still more were arriving, joining the others, swaying, twirling and shaking limbs in tune with their neighbors. Strangely hypnotizing, the Konti thought, trying to hear music that wasn’t there.
She’d planned to merely watch and observe, like the solitary figures lining the square. With robes whipping about in the wind, they seemed to be mages on duty. Keeping out of the storm, preserving precious head and energy. It would’ve been the rational thing to do. And yet, before she knew it, Estrellir found herself dancing with a tall dark-skinned man and a girl with huge black almond eyes and braids. It was easier than expected, soon she lost herself in the movement, following the wind wherever it nudged her, relishing the rain on her face, not even caring whose hair clung to her brow or slapped her cheeks. It was hypnotic and she’d been caught.
As she was shorter than (pretty much) everyone else, however, she got pushed and shoved (possibly) more than anyone else. One time an elbow hit her in the temple and suddenly the sparkling diamonds of Zintila’s dress multiplied. Soon after, there was an apologetic pat on the head, but Estrellir almost didn’t notice. Zintila’s dress… the sight rang a bell, distant…
