Dance in the mist, with and against the waves;

[Warr]

Mist dominated the landscape this early morn, the verdant hills of the Caunster Clanndúiche*, almost entirely veiled from sight with the grey-blue mists which were the day’s weather. This scene, it was not visibly marked by any inhabitance by humanity or animalia, and the cool cold touch of the mist would make one think it a solemn place, for remembering in your dreams, a beautiful place.

Yet in the silent, beautiful place, there was a subtle sound, in the distance, almost as if the ground was rumbling. As a moment passed, the distinct and sharp flute like sound of an Irish Tin Whistle rang out, a short but sweet marching melody clearly heard upon it, quickly accompanied by the strong sounds of drums and the eerie call of Uilleann pipes. The subtle rumbling got louder and louder, and soon there was a raucous, uproarious shout, a warcall.

Soon the marchers could be seen, some running and some simply walking quickly, some dressed in full traditional garb, and most with modern clothes for the most part, accented by plaids. The traditional garb, and the plaids, were covered with clann tartans from the various clanns which existed in Warre, with some who were not affiliated with clanns at all wearing the national tartan, a dark blue, white, orange, and deep green tartan with a great inter-meshing of the colors.

The sounds continued as the people charged, and as they met, they chuckled, many stopping and greeting the other group, and others simply looking at the landscape.

From the crowd, a girl with curly red-brown hair to her shoulder’s strode forth, and she turned to the crowd when she was beyond them, calling out.

“Welcome to the Annual Cuanster Spring festival! From wherever you come, we of the Caunster Clann wish you good health! Slainte!”

And so it began, those wearing the same tartan as the girl, and some wearing the Warreic tartan, reaching into packs and setting up booths and tents, a blacksmith’s stand up in no time, and things being prepared, including a mask shop and some people placing stylized masks of various creatures, the Warreic Canine in particular, upon their faces. Stands were set up all about, informational or otherwise, and games. There were even tests of people’s skill with medieval weapons set up. It was one of Warre’s premier festivals, and Warreic festivals were renown for their hospitality.

[Free_Pacific_States]

“This is going to be fun!” Ambassador Toby Zigs was almost running towards the giant festival ground. “I came last year! I’m telling ya, its totally worth seeing!”

Pam Kalker, Zigs’ assistant, laughed. “Sir, I’m sure the festival will still be there in a minute, no need to rush.”

The two civilian-clad marines following the two civilian staff members snickered but Zigs paid no attention. “Every minute wasted walking in there is a minute…well, wasted! So c’mon!”

The group quickly reached the entrance to the festivities and Zigs smiled broadly. “Now, I wonder what to hit first?”

[Der_Fuhrer_Dyszel]

Vaeda Desanti walked amid the flurry of activity and excitement. Dressed in lowcut jeans and camisole, her interest was diverted past the energetic and lively music, gatherings, and dancing to a stable of sheltered animals.

She walked up and smiled to a stabled horse. The horse seemed to be bored despite the excitement of the festival. It merely stared at the ground, barely noticing her existence. Vaeda continued to stand there, smiling, waiting for the horse.

It was a few minutes later when the horse raised its head to her, as if finally wondering who this strange person was.

“Are you hungry?” she asked the horse who continued to look at her, as if not comprehending a word she said.

“It’s alright, I’m a friend,” she spoke more softly, removing a candied apple from her bag and holding it out to the horse.

The horse regarded her for a moment as if unsure whether or not it should take the apple. The allure of the sweet carmel must have won the horse over though for it started to lick the apple and eventually took it from her hand.

Vaeda waited patiently as the horse ate. When the horse finished, it raised its head and allowed her to pet him. It was as if the energy between them had instantly changed, Vaeda had earned the horses trust.

“You are a good boy,” she spoke softly, nestling her head against the horse’s head. “Want to go for a walk?”

She gently opened the stable’s door, the horse now excited to be free. She extended her hand, resting it on the horses’s shoulder as she guided him through the crowd until they met one of the Warreic officials.

“Hello sir, my name is Vaeda Desanti of Mahanoy. I heard about this exciting event and could not resist coming. Festivals are perfect opportunities for networking outside of the seriousness of conference rooms. I hope you don’t mind but Clover wanted to take a walk,” she spoke kindly, patting the horse with a reassuring motion.

[Warr]

A young man wearing a simple pair of drab brown paints, work boots, and a green tunic-jacket was the one whom the Mahanian woman, Vaede, had spoken with. Drapped across his left shoulder were a pair of tartan plaids, intertwined for show, one clearly the Warreic National Tartan, the dark blue, white, orange, and deep green tartan with a great inter-meshing of the colors, clearly distinguishable as the national tartan. In contrast, a green, purple, orange and blue plaid with the same level of inter-meshing tartan upon the other plaid.

His eyes were a clear sky blue, and his hair an extreme tint of black, it stuck up in many directions, if by it’s own accord. As a moment passed after he Mahanian woman had approached him and spoke those words, the young man blinked, and gave a puzzled look.

“How did you know his name is Clover?”

The young man reached out to pet the beast, it calm enough to show he might be one of it’s owners.

---

Near the newly set up stalls, a few courtyards had been clearly visible, fenced in on four sides, for some reason. Bales of hales stood nearby, and a girl of fair height for a teenager called out, her clothing laden with plaids of the same color as the young man Vaede had approached.

Her eyes were the same clear sky blue, but her hair was an almost autumn amber in-between golden and red. Beside her were two clearly marked spots, and several oak bows, with hundreds of arrows, with various varieties.

She called out a challenge to anyone willing.

[Der_Fuhrer_Dyszel]

Vaeda merely rubbed the horse and smiled innocently, her subtle way of showing that she intended to keep her secrets. Truth be told, Vaeda “talked” to animals since childhood, it was the only solace she found in life.

“I take it you own Clover? He feels calm around you. You know, I came to buy some herbs and native plants. I am a healer from Mahanoy and I heard that during this festival a lot of natural herbs and local plants were sold. I thought I would check them out…always looking for natural remedies to illness,” she offered with a playful wink, while once again patting the horse on the shoulder.

[Warr]

A girl with crimson hair in a braid wrapped around her neck, wearing the same tartan plaid* as the other boy, in the same style, with a skirt in the same tartan pattern as the non-national one.

She wore, strangely, broad-sunglasses like safety glasses, and she called out.

“You came to the right place then, miss!”

Her cousin, the boy who was one of Clover’s owners, smiled.

“He likes you, Clover does.”

*A tartan blanket, tartan being what most Americans call ‘plaid’.

[Der_Fuhrer_Dyszel]

As the festival continued, the music playing on well into the night, Emily kneeled on the couch trying to catch a glimpse of the magnificent fireworks that were launched about ten miles from her house. She watched the brilliant colors in the forms of loops, birds, hearts, and various other shapes while the discordance between sound and sight illuminated the room. Flash of lights danced into her room while the thunderous booming sounded several seconds later with the flash of another light.

Emily sat intrigued, her eyes wide with excitement and joy. “Mommy! Mommy! Can we go see the firecrackers? Please mommy! Please!” she begged as she quickly bounced off the couch to her mother’s side, who was hurriedly preparing yet another meal.

“Em…you know daddy doesn’t like you out so late. Keep it down please Em, daddy is trying to read,” Elizabeth brought her finger to her lips. Although her hair was pulled neatly into a bun behind her head to work, a loose strand fell into her face, her eyes significantly aged despite the youth of body. She looked only thirty, but the sadness in her eyes seemed to have aged her about another thirty years. “Please Em, why not find a book to read? Perhaps study some?”

“But mommy…I want to see the crack booms!”

And with that another brilliant flash of red broke through the trees and momentarily poised itself gracefully on the carpet. Emily gasped and ran again to the window, jumping onto it to look out the window.

She longed more than anything to go to the festival. All the kids went and she was home again with her mother as they always were. All the kids in school got to do such fun things, but she always had to stay home and read and the same boring books over and over again. She wanted to see the light! Oh look, how brilliantly it danced in the night sky, hiding even the ever present dazzling sparkles of the stars. It was as if their majestic beauty was so important even the stars stared in awe and wonder.

They were so pretty…pretty like the flowers she saw in the woods by her house. The colors were so brilliant. She momentarily lost herself in the colors…blue…red…yellow…white…purple…green…yellow…red…white…blue… Her eyes glittered with the fascination, awe, and wonder of the seven years she had lived.

And coldness shattered the illusion as reality brought her back. The cold angry snarl she recognized as her unhappy father broke the brilliance and magic quality of the flashing lights with one single word, “Elizabeth!” She heard that word too many times; when daddy yelled at mommy that way, it usually ended up with mommy and daddy fighting and daddy hitting mommy again and again.

“Jonathan,” Elizabeth replied, trying to keep her cool. “Dinner is done, again, as you requested to your specifications. It’s still hot. Be careful.” She handed Jonathan the plate.

Jonathan took a single bite of the steaming PAX FRUITS, burning his mouth in the process. “You useless bitch!” the angry snarl hissed, followed by a loud crack, which sent Elizabeth tumbling backwards in confusion.

He threw the plate at her, splattering her with the dinner, as the plate struck her hard and crashed to the ground. She recoiled and let out a slight scream as the hot PAX FRUITS burned her, but quickly brushed them off, and tried to regain her composure.

Another flash of blue lit up the room as Emily crept her way silently toward the kitchen. She wanted to help mommy. Mommy didn’t do anything! She made supper again and each time daddy didn’t like it. But daddy scared her and she knew all too well that anger would be inflicted onto herself if daddy caught her. A few heated curses slew themselves from Jonathan’s mouth as he degraded his wife further and further, incessantly reminding her how useless she was and how none of the other wives were that disrespectful to their husbands…as if he would know.

“Jonathan!” Elizabeth yelled, as she stooped down to pick up the broken pieces of the plate. “Please watch your language, Emily doesn’t need to hear those words.”

With the blink of an eye, Jonathan’s angry eyes were a few inches from her own, his hands clutched around her neck as he struck her again and again. She fought against him, leaning against the counter and using her legs to pry him away. Finally free, she collapsed to the ground.

“You are an animal,” she gasped, tears in her eyes, as she rubbed her throat.

“You stupid bitch!” Jonathan retorted coming at her again. But Elizabeth wasted no time before she ran around the table, past Emily, and up the stairs. Following closely behind Jonathan grabbed her ankle, pulling her down as she struck her knee painfully off the stair. She fought and broke free with Jonathan paces behind her until she found herself pinned in the bathroom. She had closed the door, but failed to lock it in time, Jonathan having been too close behind her.

“Mommy?” Emily whispered to herself as she momentarily listened to silence. Then she heard the screams as of her mother as she had never heard them before. Loud animal howls that composed of the obscenities her father slung filled the air and momentarily drowned her mother’s loud screams.

Emily crept into a dark corner, far removed from the periodic flashes of light that so captivated her only moments before. Warm salty tears fell down her cheeks as she began held her knees closely to her chest and rocked. “Help mommy,” she asked of no one in particular, but hoping with every fiber in her body that someone would hear her.

But no one came. The screams grew louder and the ferocious beasts howled more intensely as he moved in for the kill. Obscenities and slanderous words came from both ends but her mother’s cries soon fell short. It was silent for a moment, the only sound the periodic thundering bangs and booms of the fireworks.

“Mommy?” Emily braved a little louder.

But the house felt cold and empty, the red that illuminated the room that once poised itself with grace now fell ominously on the floor as a splatter of blood onto a wall. Emptiness and silence permeated and she had never before felt the fear that gripped at her heart.

She ran to the phone and pressed the number that mommy taught her to press if something bad were ever to happen to her. How did mommy know this would happen?

She listened to the voice on the other line, an emergency department…whatever that was. “Daddy hurt mommy really bad,” she said, mustering the courage to call. “I don’t know…mommy ran upstairs and daddy followed her. They aren’t yelling anymore. I think he hurt mommy bad.”

Emily held the phone close to her ear. The person was asking so many questions. Where did she live? Was she safe? Was there anywhere she could go? Was her dad still in the house? So many questions. She looked up with a flash of blue and saw the dark ominous figure of her father illuminated in the light, a rage like a furious beast she had never seen before in his eyes.

“Who are you calling Emily?” he asked, his voice a dark growl.

“You hurt mommy!” she yelled at him into the phone.

Instantly the voice told her to run away, get out of the house, but it was too late. She screamed, terrified, as her father lunged at her and smacked her hard. “Don’t you dare disobey me you little bitch! Who did you call?” he yelled louder as he shook her trying to illicit an answer.

“You hurt mommy!” she protested but felt her head hit the wall. A flash of white illuminated the room as her vision seemed to go blurry. Her head hurt and the room spun around her as he father shook her, “you…hurt…mommy…”

She felt the ground rush to meet her quickly with a thud. But the white flashed again, illuminating the room. The bangs and booms blurred with the sound of a third voice and her fathers “unhand her now.”

Dimitri drove his blade to the hilt deep into the man’s stomach. He felt no mercy as he twisted the blade, sending a sharp pain through the man. He mercilessly twisted it again before he removed it, using his foot to kick the pathetic excuse of a father onto the floor.

Emily was still breathing. “Good,” he told himself, as he was not too late. Anger flushed in his face. It was men like this that disgraced the good honor and chivalry of his gender. He lifted Emily into his arms and waited until the emergency services arrived.

Flashing red and white and blue surrounded the house. He carried her fragile tiny body out to them and placed it on a stretcher. As he released her, he was immediately surrounded by drawn guns who ordered him to his knees. He complied and allowed them to cuff him before asking questions.

“What are you doing here?” a police officer asked, bewildered by the man’s full suit of armor with a golden tear drop and the freshly used sword still wet with blood.

Could they possibly understand? “I am a messenger of Keiga on a holy mission. I was in a moment of questioning my faith when the rain told me to come here. I had doubted for a moment that I would find courage behind these walls and lo and behold, I killed a man who was about to kill his daughter.” Sometimes, a lie would make more sense.

“I doubt you would believe me, sir,” Dimitri responded simply. “The man who you are after is lying on the floor in the living room. Waste no time with me. Her mother may still have a chance. Please, just let me accompany the child. It is important I do so, I am her uncle. I was at the Warreric festival when I realized she was not here and came to check on her to find her father beating her. I reacted on impulse.” So it was a white lie, they are acceptable in moments such as these, right?

By some luck of Keiga, the wind turned, and it seemed that they bought the story as they uncuffed him and let him ride with Emily to the hospital. He sat by her and held her hand as the emergency medical attendants monitored her vital signs.

“Please stay with us little one. You are courage and we need you. Keiga has heard your cries my dear little one.” He spoke quietly but nonetheless yielded the raised eyebrows of the attendants as they assumed he too had lost it.

It was several hours later and Dimitri did not leave Emily’s side as he held her hand the entire time. She blinked open her eyes, her head hurting, as she stared at the golden teardrop. Somehow it seemed so fitting at that moment. “You saved me,” she said, remembering only a brief flash of white as her last memory. Somehow, she just knew.

“Hello little one,” Dimitri said as he smiled, a reassuring and warming motion that put her slightly at ease.

“Where is mommy?” Emily asked as she sat up and looked around the motherless room.

Dimitri had received the news shortly after arriving. His face momentarily frowned but he tried to smile, only to reveal again what Emily seemed to already have known somehow.

“Was I too late?” she asked, feeling guilty. Perhaps if she had called earlier this would not have happened.

Dimitri held her hand and shook his head, “No, little one. This was not your fault. Keiga heard you little one. I fear I was too late. For that I am deeply sorry and in service to you my little one.”

The warm tears again streaked down Emily’s face and she sniffled as she rubbed them from her eyes. She missed mommy already but this strange man saved her and was still here. Somehow, she knew she could trust him too. Somehow, things seemed to make more sense to her than they did before: Why daddy hit mommy, why mommy didn’t get away, and even why he was there. She asked for help after all.

“What now?” she asked through the tears.

Dimitri hugged her and held her close as she cried. “You get better first. Then you can come with me.”

[Der_Fuhrer_Dyszel]

In the midst of buying several herbs from the crimson haired Warreric woman, Vaeda felt Clover suddenly drawn to a presence in the distance. Clover was looking towards one of the enterences to the festival. She saw the sight first, a tall elegant woman, whose presence was captivating. Contrary to her appearance and expressionaless face, a rather positive energy radiated from her as she seemed to glide in her walk.

She looked about with her expressionaless face as a silence began to travel among the crowds near here, who unexplainabley were drawn to her presence. Walking aside of her was another remarkably attractive woman, simple in appearance compared to her traveling companion. The two women held the audiences attention as they walked through the festival, seemingly in search of something or someone.

“It’s Lady Edea,” whispered a few people who instantly recognized the face and her traveling companion. Some shuddered in fear, others gasped in shock, and others beamed in excitement as the ambigous reactions traveled among the crowd, who was unsure of whether or not her presence here was a terrible or uplifting sign.

Prior to the fall of The Empire, Lady Edea had not been seen nor heard of as she retreated into the depths. No one knew why she had disappeared nor what had happened to her since the collapse of The Empire, but many rumors fell. Now here she was, very much alive and well, as walked through the festival. She spoke to no one, but simply silently traveled, a ripple of silence following her every step.

“Clover,” Vaeda asked as she again stroked the horse’s mane, " who is she? She is so beautiful and yet there is something about her I cannot place. She is good, I can tell, but there is something about her."

Clover seemed to understand Vaeda’s question and responded with a slight snort.

“I think you might be right,” Vaeda said as she looked to a stand selling various plants. It would not be from Mahanoy, but it would definitely be a gift of the heart. She looked through the plants until she found a small fragile looking one that seemed in desperate need of tender care. “This one!” she exclaimed as Clover sniffed the plant and whillied in agreement. Quickly overpaying for the plant, Vaeda took the plant to Lady Edea.

She bowed her head out of respect. With Clover aside of her, she handed the fragile looking withering plant to Lady Edea. “My lady, it is an honor to meet you. I have a gift for you,” Vaeda offered as she extended the plant to Lady Edea.

Lady Edea turned her expressionaless face onto the plant. Although her face showed no signs of emotions, Vaeda felt the gratitude in Lady Edea’s eyes as the eyes seemed to smile and thank her for this simple act of kindess and understanding.

“Thank you,” the assistant next to Edea spoke as she took the plant from Vaeda. “My lady appreciates your kindess.”

“I know,” Vaeda smiled and patted Clover.

“May I ask who brings such a gift to my Lady?”

“My name is Vaeda Desanti of the Desanti family in Mahanoy. I invite my Lady to attend the annual Desanti ball which shall be coming very shortly. It would be greatly honored to have my Lady attend,” Vaeda extended the kind offer from the depths of her heart as she looked into Lady Edea’s eyes.

“Thank you Miss Desanti. We shall both attend. Can you tell me, have you seen a man with a shining suit of armor with a golden tear drop on it around her?” the attendent asked politely.

“I have not, I am sorry. There are so many people here. If you ask around, I am sure someone might have seen him if he was around here.”

“Thank you,” the attendent finished as she and the silently elegant Lady Edea began to walk again among the crowd in search of the man with the golden tear drop.