30th of Summer, 519
There was a soul to this city, Madeira had to admit. Though it did not dance or dream like Alvadas, though it did not speak or think or feel like the Infinity Manor, it still had this small, joyous sense of heart.
It was summer, and the air was rich and alive with the sound of childish laughter. There was a festival today, an old tradition to honour the city's beloved Okomo. The creatures were dotted across Sartu peak, looking resplendent in their spring coats of pastel greens and pinks and blues. Some were armoured in leather and glimmering plate, standing tall and imposing beside their riders. Others were armoured in nothing but paint and flowers, and stood with patience beside giggling children holding out bags of heart-shaped treats. People had gathered from every peak to celebrate these magnificent beasts.
Madeira held tight to her two children as they stepped off the skybridge from Shinyama. Amelie's hand was small and soft in hers, feeling incredibly delicate and fragile through the layers of rings, silk glove and scar tissue that covered her own hand. Moritz was balanced on the hip of her blue cotton dress and held tight against her body. The way was flanked on all sides by vendors selling woven baskets, knit toys, and sweets for children and Okomo alike at the top of their voices. The open space ahead was packed tight with animals and people, all alight with the festivities.
"Ooooo, Ameile, look!" Emma was bouncing on her toes ahead of the group, doing her part to conveniently part the superstitious crowed ahead of them and act as lookout for the best attractions. "They're painting the Okomo's horns! That's so weird. Maddy, can we have some? Please!"
Was it overstimulating? Was Amelie feeling okay? Was Moritz going to bolt? Though to an outsider it looked like this small young family had been growing for a few years, it had really been a little over a season since Madeira became a mother. This was the first festival the babes had been to and she wasn't sure what to expect.
As Emma noticed, the children of the festival all seemed to be carrying tiny buckets of paint. There were great smears of it across the grass and the noses of the most tolerant Okomo. Madeira spotted a tired-looking youth who presided over the pots of festive mess, and asked for two. Then asked for one more when Emma's dangerous pout caught her eye. The youth handed Madeira a green, blue and a pink pot, and watched them curiously as they left. With Emma leading the way Madeira was able to stake out a spot bereft of both people and beasts at the edge of the festivities.
"Oh, boy, you're getting heavier every day, Moritz." Madeira dropped Amelie's hand so she could kneel and sit her son down in the grass with a huff. "You'll be as big as these monsters soon, won't you? Amelie, little fox, I can see you. Try not to wander off."
Emma was dancing around the three of them in a tight circle, her soulmist a flurry of childish exuberance, hands over her face in shy excitement. "There's one! There's one! It's coming this way. Look!"
An old Okomo, with grey peppered into its colourful coat, rumbled over to them. As tall as a horse and twice as big, it chuffed through its nose as it's heavy head swung from side to side in search of treats or strokes. It passed straight through the ghost, completely unperturbed, and snuffled at Moritz and Amelie in turn.