Just a face in the crowd. Nothing more, nothing less. Dressed like a famer he walked among the people, enjoying the festival. If someone followed him with his eyes, he sometimes would be able to see a glimmer of gold in the man’s hair. Next to a market stall filled with sweets, he saw a man hugging a girl and a boy. The girl was wearing a golden ring and the boy was holding a goat. A man walking with the step of a hunter passed him. Someone stormed through the people next to him. A little girl accompanied by a little boy ran through an alley. For a moment the voice of a rather pompous man sounded above the music, shouting at some villagers. The old priest was still sitting high above the rest of the people. A man was drinking next to the largest pyre. This were just a few of the images of the evening. He enjoyed this festival, watching the people of this town from a distance. Walking among them, smiling with them. He wished the other ones would keep it this peaceful.

LordMarwain said
Wondering where to go next he enjoyed himself at the festival. At a stand he bought a few sweets. When he turned around a shout caught his attention. Two familiar faces were standing in the crowd. He ignored them and walked right past them. Waiting a few moments until he could feel their disappointment. He then turned around, a broad smile showed on his face. "Got you." He handed a few of the sweets over to them. "It has been so long. You two surely have grown. Look at you Misha, no problems at all handling that goat. And you Lyah, you have become a real beauty. Wait I got a present for you." Tarvin searched through his many pockets. Having many pockets is very useful, except if you need to find something. When he found what he was looking for, he directly handed it over. A beautiful small golden ring that looked like a string of wool for Lyah and a small decorated dagger for Misha. After he made sure they had put them away safely, he looked at Lyah. "How is your mother doing? I still have that letter she gave me. Never opened it like promised."

The two accepted the gifts and looked at them shimmer in the sunlight with marvel. "Thank you so much, they're beautiful. But we don't have anything to give you in return."
When Tarvin mentioned her mother Lyah suddenly looked down at the ground. "She passed away last year."
Memories of the fire where still fresh in her mind.

Misha looked worried. Hoping to change the topic he spoke up. "Hey what about you? Where have you been these years?"

Gorbo Grandman said
Now Ron really started to worry. Who was this girl, thinking she could simply take him anywhere without even telling her name!? He felt a little offended, but his curious nature compelled him to follow the girl. Excitement and adrenaline started to pump through his veins. He was going on an adventure."Hey, wait up!" He called out to her as she started to move. "What's your name!"

Zaya turned around for a single second, smiled the loveliest smile in the world, before running on again.
She led Ron to the edge of the fairground, to a place out of sight, behind a tent, next to one of the temple walls.
'Be quiet' she told him 'I will show you'
Zaya reached in her improvised bag and then jumped up, like she was his by lightning.
Before Ron could react, Zaya sat on top of him, a sharp rock to his throat.
'A sound, and you're dead' she hissed. Her eyes were squinted lines, and her smile was gone.
'Give me your clothes. Now.'
With clothes like his, she would blend in easily, no one would pay attention, and stealing food would be much, much easier.
She tightened her grip around the boy. Pathetic.

akje said
"It's to show we care. So the gods will feel welcome and wanted." The old priest droned his trained reply.He sighed. "So says the doctrine, truth is. I believe it's to give the people peace of mind. They see an abundant party with a giant pyre, no expenses held. They will see that we can afford it. They will feel safe and happy. The festive mood will inspire them to bring great gifts, make promises to oneself or just enjoy a well deserved party."The old man stared into the fire, the light from the flames lit up his parchment like skin to a warm hue."This is a time to feel alive. To make changes and to enter a new chapter in your life my boy."The priest looked at the silver trinket, it wasn't to him to judge worth."Maybe this time you bring something truly special. Something that means something to you. A young man like you should have ambitions."

Lod looked at the old man. He thought about what he just said. Maybe it was true, this was a moment of change and renewal. Quitting old habits, taking on new virtues. It was a good time to start again.
Lod stood up. “Yer right, yer grace. ‘ts time to do something big this time. I mean, we have de big fire, don’t we? Better use it.”
He made a last waving gesture to the priest as he walked away. He went to the edge of the fairground, to his large tent next to the temple walls. He entered and packed his belongings.

What should I get myself, he thought, and what would I want in return?
Who is going to answer me?

MasterOfMetal said
Zaya turned around for a single second, smiled the loveliest smile in the world, before running on again.
She led Ron to the edge of the fairground, to a place out of sight, behind a tent, next to one of the temple walls.
'Be quiet' she told him 'I will show you'
Zaya reached in her improvised bag and then jumped up, like she was his by lightning.
Before Ron could react, Zaya sat on top of him, a sharp rock to his throat.
'A sound, and you're dead' she hissed. Her eyes were squinted lines, and her smile was gone.
'Give me your clothes. Now.'
With clothes like his, she would blend in easily, no one would pay attention, and stealing food would be much, much easier.
She tightened her grip around the boy. Pathetic.

A boy's life was at stake, but the girl showed promise. Neither was doing very well. The boy was in over his head, while the girl was just generally in a bad place. Someone should interfere...
Outside a tent, next to the temple walls, on the edge of the fairground, a little wooden statue of a whale was hidden in a small box next to the entrance. On the box was a note.

Background music.

It started to rain, not much. Just a few thick drops of warm rain showered down on the earth. A wet summer breeze washed a rain cloud over the village from the sea.

A gale of wind rushed trough the festivity grounds. Swift and precise it flowed between tables and festival goers.
The gust danced and twirled wildly over the grounds. Water splashed high and shattered the sunlight piercing trough the clouds in a brilliant display of colors.
Flags and ribbons danced wildly yet nothing nor nobody was knocked over. The invisible source of the movement seemed erratic, yet seeking. As if alive.
Caught in the torrent of air a trained but more so lucky eye would notice a glimmering white spark. A bright star piercing trough the chaotic display for a fraction of a moment.
Eyes invisible by virtue of speed searched the festival with judging eyes. Sidestepping most, looking for the right person.

Suddenly a bight burning arrow reached high into the sky and caught the attention of the dancing creature. The arrow touched the sky and burst like a popping flower in a dazzling display that rivaled his colorful waves. Quickly thereafter it was followed by more arrows, each bursting in radiance and color.
For a second he stood still. He was visible as a pale man with long white shining hair and a white crown on his head. Draped in loose fitting silken robes in a spectrum of blue and green. His eyes burned with a passionate spark of rivalry. Like lightning he shot upwards at the fiery explosions of vibrant light.
Forgetting his mission he danced with the firework spectacle as they appeared and went. With wind he drew dancing people and animals in the sky.

Āwhātama felt pride and joy in hearing the mortals in awe of his skill. Then he remembered he was here on a mission.
Descending to the earth with a cloud of dust appearing where he landed. He once again raced trough the fields and around the temple.
Find the human with the right voice and strength of mind to speak his words.

akje said
The two accepted the gifts and looked at them shimmer in the sunlight with marvel. "Thank you so much, they're beautiful. But we don't have anything to give you in return."When Tarvin mentioned her mother Lyah suddenly looked down at the ground. "She passed away last year."Memories of the fire where still fresh in her mind.Misha looked worried. Hoping to change the topic he spoke up. "Hey what about you? Where have you been these years?"

Tarvin looked at the two with wide open eyes. The news shocked him. "Death... how?.. no never mind, this must be though for you." He blinked a few times to regain his posture. "I.. uhm.. traveled the world. I went to other villages and worked there. It was though at first, but I learned how to survive on my own in this world. The toughest thing was missing my friends. I really missed you guys, but I had to get out... because... you know...." Tarvin looked away. His eyes got a little wet. He brushed it away with the back of his hand. "Here Lyah, this is for you," and he handed over the letter of her mother. "I was instructed to give it to you. Please open it when you're alone tonight. First we have a party to enjoy, don't we? you two coming? I heard they serve the best roasted meat over there."

"Hah, we'll see about that." Misha grinned.
Lyah had accepted the letter with grace and silence. She walked off with the paper close to her chest.
"I have something special planned for the gods tonight. How about you?"

Lyah sat down in the grass and looked up at the fireworks in the sky. She wondered how they got the sparks to take such complex shapes in the air.
Magic perhaps? It was nice to take her mind of her mother for a second. She hesitated as she held the sealed letter in her hands. Her fingers trembled.
She was curious, yet, afraid. Afraid she was getting worked up over nothing.
Carefully she released the seal from the paper.

She slowly made her way through the festival. She generally avoided festivals. Crowds like this were hard for her to move through. Staff in hand she struggled to find her way through the all the people. They all moved so quickly that she couldnt predict where they would go. It was too noisy for her to hear well enough to determine anything that way.

akje said
"Hah, we'll see about that." Misha grinned. Lyah had accepted the letter with grace and silence. She walked off with the paper close to her chest. “I have something special planned for the gods tonight. How about you?"Lyah sat down in the grass and looked up at the fireworks in the sky. She wondered how they got the sparks to take such complex shapes in the air.Magic perhaps? It was nice to take her mind of her mother for a second. She hesitated as she held the sealed letter in her hands. Her fingers trembled.She was curious, yet, afraid. Afraid she was getting worked up over nothing.Carefully she released the seal from the paper.

"And he was the only one who immediately understood that I had stolen from him, but his guards were too far away. You should have seen him run on his short legs, his big fat belly bouncing from left to right.” Tarvin demonstrated the movement with his hands. Misha’s and Tarvin’s discussion started with what they were going to offer to the gods, but now Tarvin was telling Misha about his life as a thief. Misha seemed to have accepted it, since he only stole from those who could afford it and gave money to the poor. “And what did you do in the three years I was gone?”

"Dear Lyah, Since you are reading this, I guess I am no longer in the land of the living. First I want you to know that I love you with my whole heart my little flower. Second I want to tell you why I never spoke much about your father. You see it’s kinda hard to tell this without people laughing at you, but I fell in love with a god. Not the praying to the sky kind of love, but the sweaty sort. I met him at a festival like this, one honored to the summer. We talked the whole evening and later he took me to his beautiful garden. I saw him a few times after that, but at one time he stopped coming. Please don't be mad at him, this is just the way he is. He probably doesn’t even know you exist, but when he does I’m sure he will look for you" She could literally hear the words she realized. And with that realization she immediately turned her head to the left. There a farmer sat right next to her side. A golden rose in his hair reflected the light of the fireworks. He looked at her while speaking the last words of the letter. His eyes seemed wet. “Please come with me, I have much to explain to you. The other two won’t notice and you won’t be away for long if you wish,” he spoke while standing up, reaching out his hand to her.

MasterOfMetal said
Zaya turned around for a single second, smiled the loveliest smile in the world, before running on again.She led Ron to the edge of the fairground, to a place out of sight, behind a tent, next to one of the temple walls.'Be quiet' she told him 'I will show you'Zaya reached in her improvised bag and then jumped up, like she was his by lightning.Before Ron could react, Zaya sat on top of him, a sharp rock to his throat.'A sound, and you're dead' she hissed. Her eyes were squinted lines, and her smile was gone.'Give me your clothes. Now.'With clothes like his, she would blend in easily, no one would pay attention, and stealing food would be much, much easier.She tightened her grip around the boy. Pathetic.

Ron cried briefly, and then fell silent at the girls command. He was confused and scared, and felt a bit stupid for not seeing this coming. He could almost feel her heartbeat the way she had thrown herself on top of him. Even though his initial feelings were terror and fear, he also felt a little sorry for the girl. She was forced to reduce herself to this. Of course it had been an awful descision to attack him, but he still felt that she wasn't completely responsible for her actions. Maybe she was scared too?

"Allright allright! Just don't hurt me!" He whispered. Slowly he began unbuckling his belt, taking a little longer than usual because of his shaky hands. Again he cursed himself for being such a fool. But if he complied, he'd be fine. His father would buy him new clothes when he returned from the big city, and he knew his father would never get angry at him. As long as he washed himself after this emarassing and terrfying ordeal, he would be perfectly fine.

Every party needs it’s pacesetter, every celebration needs it’s spirit. Somebody who keeps the flow of chatter and liquor going steadily. Who gives the underdogs a moment to shine and makes a fool of those too arrogant. Who encourages people to open up to one another and share themselves. Someone who brings life to the dance floor, and inspires others to join him. Who introduces the right people to each other. In short, someone who could turn a crowd into a communion.

This ‘party’ however, was not just any party. This was a great sacrificial feast! Gods would lay their eyes upon the people here, walk among the mortals. Judging not only the sacrifices, but the people. Things tended to become tense in places like this. That was why Vincus took the responsibility to keep the short lived social ecosystem of this celebration alive, not only for the sake of sacrificial celebration, but for the sake of the people’s community. Whole civilisations could be torn apart in events like these if there wasn’t someone who carefully kept everyone, of high or low standards, in the lush and blissful illusion created by their own togetherness… And perhaps their booze.

Vincus could feel the tension build up. People were getting nervous. The time for sacrifice was coming closer by the minute. It was time to loosen up the situation. Throw some spice in the mixture if you will. Looking around he spotted a group of old men. The town’s eldest it seemed. They didn’t look very happy, since their younger generations hadn’t shown any true appreciation to them yet. A shame it was, the young could learn from the elders’ experience, while the young would keep the old youthful and happy… A plan started to form in his mind.

Walking up to the old sods, he lowered his hood and showed his young, attractive face encased with long dark hair. The elder looked at him like he was a living insult. Smiling at them with his strong and beautiful body as if he were challenging them. What he said next surprised them however. “Gentlemen, I see you are men of wisdom! My name is Kaelus the bard, and I have a song that I would like to dedicate to you. I’m sure you’ll know it.” Confidently he stepped up to a bunch of men bearing instruments, currently doing nothing at all.

“What a shame that you aren’t playing my friends. What joy you could bring these people when you enlighten them with a piece of your artistry! I know what will do the job, follow my lead!” He called out to them. Then softly he told them a few things that were only meant for their ears. Their eyes brightened and they grinned at each other. A woman with a strange looking lute on her back shoved it forward so that it hung in front of her chest. With a dramatic gesture the bard put her foot onto the pile of logs next to her, and she began to play.

When she began to plan, Vincus began to sing.
Rocky road to Dublin


The crowd became slightly more silent. At first people merely started to look up as they were talking, but more and more turned around to pay close attention to the group of bards that had begun playing. Everyone… everyone, knew this song, but only a few knew it by heart. The elderly felt their hearts flutter and their minds drift off to a time long forgotten. Their youth came drifting up as Vincus’ voice inspired them to sing as well. Softly they sang along with the couplet. Vincus urged them to sing louder. A bit awkwardly they began increasing their volume, pulling the attention of the crowd towards them instead of Vincus. Their old minds struggling to remember the complex lines left them a bit uncertain.

But then the chorus kicked in. A smile appeared on the old men’s’ faces, and they laughed. A few others began to sing along as well. More and more the people’s attention turned to the singing. He could hear children ask their parents “What’s Dublin like?” And they would tell them to ask the elder themselves, since they could tell the story first hand.

Vincus sang along one more couplet as he slowly moved around, creating a small open spot of pavement within the crowd. The second chorus kicked in, and he approached a young lady. “May I have this dance?” He asked courteously, as he held out his open hand. The woman blushed and laid here hand on top of his. The two of them started to dance. Vincus could hear more and more people sing along and some even cheered. Rythmic clapping surrounded him as they swirled around in the middle. To his surprise the young woman was a great dancer, and knew the paces of a few of the most selective manoeuvres. Seeing this as a challenge, Vincus danced wilder and wilder, and his partner followed his lead.

As the song neared it’s last couplet, their dance came to an end. Even though the woman was breathing heavily and her forehead gleamed with sweat, Vincus seemed strangely unaffected. He smiled brightly at her, and handed her hand to another man at the edge of the crowd. The two of them began to dance as well, and slowly more couples, and sometimes larger groups let themselves become a part of the commotion. Flailing limbs, sparkling eyes and laughing faces surrounded Vincus. Men, women, young and old, communicating on the same level. Through music… through emotion. Vincus felt content with himself. Through his actions he had made sure this day would be remembered as a true sacrificial ‘celebration’, and not merely ceremony.

The congress reel

The first song ended, and a cacophony of cheers brought the next song. A song more fit for dance. The elder were now surrounded by young faces, each of them getting to tell their own story. The bards were being admired by the people. Everyone was singing and dancing and having a jolly time! With a grin on his face Vincus blended in with the people again, cloaking himself. All would have forgotten about him… Though not entirely. For who he was, was exactly what he had left behind.

Approaching a hooded figure he could sense was more than he made himself appear, he subtly greeted Tavon from under his own hood. “Greetings, my friend.” Saluting him briefly, he then proceeded to stand next to him. “My apologies if I have broken the peace, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t proud of myself…” He said softly, so that only the man he knew was a god could hear him.

"Those bards are finally doing what they're being paid for." Vizlin muttered under his breath. A young woman threw him a dirty look as she passed by, but a young man took her hand and the look faded into happiness and excitement. Vizlin shook his head and turned away from the festivities. They would try to get him to dance if he wasn't too careful. No, Vizlin did not like to dance. Turning to the cliffs that made up the eastern edge of the Travel's End, he thought he saw some youngsters looking over the edge. "Bloody kids." Vizlin made his way to the cliff, but by the time he got there, the kids had run off to play somewhere else. "If only their parents knew how I'm doing their job for them" he mused.
Looking of the edge of the cliff silenced him though.
The ocean normally reflected the setting sun, but this evening seemed different. It was as if the reflection was being dimmed by some unseen force. Vizlin frowned, and shook his head.
Probably nothing.
But he did not speak.

Flin was enjoying himself. The sunset was beautiful, the bard's music was incredible, and while Flin had no sweetheart himself, the sight of young couples dancing cheered him. He sipped on a glass of fruit juice purchased from a vendor, and the flavor seemed somehow sweeter and more sour at the same time. It was hard to find something not alcoholic to drink other than water or milk, so he saved it for special occasions. He ooh'd with the crowd as fireworks shot into the air, and ahh'd when they burst into spectacular colors and shapes. He wondered how it was done, and the child in him fantasized that it was magic. Flin laughed and shook his head at the idea. No mage would waste their power on something so trivial as entertaining peasants. The skills granted a mage ranked them above the most skilled blacksmith or brewmaster; they had nearly as much standing as a nobleman, or mayor. As if summoned by his thought, who else but Vizlin appeared nearby. Flin stayed where he was this time. No pompous fool would chase him on this day, if the mayor wanted to pick a fight, let him. Flin wasn't going anywhere.

Gorbo Grandman said
Ron cried briefly, and then fell silent at the girls command. He was confused and scared, and felt a bit stupid for not seeing this coming. He could almost feel her heartbeat the way she had thrown herself on top of him. Even though his initial feelings were terror and fear, he also felt a little sorry for the girl. She was forced to reduce herself to this. Of course it had been an awful descision to attack him, but he still felt that she wasn't completely responsible for her actions. Maybe she was scared too?"Allright allright! Just don't hurt me!" He whispered. Slowly he began unbuckling his belt, taking a little longer than usual because of his shaky hands. Again he cursed himself for being such a fool. But if he complied, he'd be fine. His father would buy him new clothes when he returned from the big city, and he knew his father would never get angry at him. As long as he washed himself after this emarassing and terrfying ordeal, he would be perfectly fine.

'Too easy' Zaya thought to herself while she took the boys clothes as he took them off.
When she had all she wanted (She led him keep his most likely soiled undergarments), she told the boy to turn around.
Zaya started switching her clothes, rock still in hand. just in case the boy would be bold enough to turn around.
When she was done, she slid away, but before disappearing back into the crowds, she whistled, high and sharp.
The boy turned around.
'My name is Zaya.' she told him, with her wonderful big eyes and the loveliest smile she had in her.
Then she ran towards the festivities.

Gorbo Grandman said
Approaching a hooded figure he could sense was more than he made himself appear, he subtly greeted Tavon from under his own hood. “Greetings, my friend.” Saluting him briefly, he then proceeded to stand next to him. “My apologies if I have broken the peace, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t proud of myself…” He said softly, so that only the man he knew was a god could hear him.

"I don't see anyone fight, so I don't think you broke anything," Tavon smiled, "Well, except for that few mugs over there, but I think I'll overlook that." He winked at Vincus. "I enjoy a feast as much as they do," Tavon spoke while pointing at the people, "I might even join......" Suddenly Tavon's face got serious. He pushed his hands against his head. "How could I not have seen this. I should have known. I am sorry Vincus, but you will have to excuse me for now. I apparently have a daughter."

Music

Lyah stood petrified at all the information rushing at her.
As all the pieces came together and were confirmed with the words "I apparently have a daughter."
She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by a rough gush of wind that passed around her.
Something raced past her ear that made a singe pure high tone. Like a bell.
A spinning gale surrounded the group of people and the disguised deity.
"Hold on!" Misha yelled over the winds as he grabbed Lyah and Tarvin.
In the spinning and swirling winds whistling tones could be heard.
To the ears of mortals this sounded like aggressively melodic music.

To ears of the keeper of the eternal gardens could make out words.
"It is an honor to meet you keeper. I am a servant of will and I humbly require your guidance. You see I am to bring a message to the village and in extend to the gods.
It is a surprise you see. And as exited as I am to know a thing the gods do not, albeit briefly. I would like speak it."

The torrent of winds sped up, kicking up dust and leaves high into the air.

"But I need a vessel that speaks their mortal tongue. And the vessel must be willing. That is my one chain. I wish to possess the entertainer. I request of you this wish in the name of Mawhiti."

MasterOfMetal said
'Too easy' Zaya thought to herself while she took the boys clothes as he took them off.When she had all she wanted (She led him keep his most likely soiled undergarments), she told the boy to turn around.Zaya started switching her clothes, rock still in hand. just in case the boy would be bold enough to turn around.When she was done, she slid away, but before disappearing back into the crowds, she whistled, high and sharp.The boy turned around.'My name is Zaya.' she told him, with her wonderful big eyes and the loveliest smile she had in her.Then she ran towards the festivities.

Left there in the cold, with nothign but his underwear to warm him, Ron shivered. It was late, maybe it was already past midnight. He knew for sure that if he didn't look for help soon he might get really sick, certainly after encountering the stray girl. But for some reason, he stood there for a moment, uncertain of what he should do next. The girl named Zaya had left him in quite the predicament, and surely his grandfather would be very angry at him. Looking around he hoped there was anyone else that could help him. Anyone who saw what happened.

He felt ashamed and ridiculed, standing near-naked in the dark alleyway. Almost too scared to face his grandfather, he slowly sauntered towards the crowd, the warmth and the light, following in Zaya's direction, even though he had already lost track of her.

Flin had finished his drink and was heading back towards the fires when he saw the young lad from before coming out of a nearby alley. The boy look embarrassed and a little shocked, and was dressed only in his underwear. Flin approached the boy, smiling to reassure him, and offered his cloak.
"Bundle up, lad. It's going to get mighty cold when the sun goes down. What happened to your friend, the little girl?"