A Calm in the Fire

An island in the Arova River and location of the yearly Wick Festival.
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Makia Andresil
Posts: 18
Joined: Sun Apr 14, 2019 8:51 pm
Topics: 9
Race: Wick
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
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Plot Notes: Plotnotes
Writer: Bigealien18
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Sat Apr 20, 2019 11:35 pm

Spring 10th of Bethas 2718
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0200 Hours
41 Degrees, Clear
Surwood Isle Clearing

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The night was warmer than most Bethas nights this season. The air was calm and clean, drifting quietly along the Isle. The party, while never ending, was dying down, many a Wick had returned to their kint or caravan to sleep off the days drinks and experiences. The moon was bright in the empty sky, stars dotting the night with twinkling points of light, numerous and massive in the sky. Smoke from the dwindling bonefire lazily rose into the air, drifting and thinning until it was nothing. Sparks jumped from the flames, the blackened wood pile cracking and cooling as time passed. Many fires dotted the clearing of the Isle, all beginning to slow their burn. Huddled around each one was a couple or a handful of Wicks and Witches still awake this late, prepping for sleep. Around her fire Makia say a few darkened shapes, lit only by the twitching light of flames. Details were blurred, but Makia wasn't too interested in her companions. She was enjoying the calm night.

While it was still Spring, and therefore still cold, the strange warmth of the night invigorated her. She wore her sleeveless blouse, and her coat lay in the grass by her side, unused and needed at the moment. Her skin on her arms and shoulder goosepimpled, but she did not mind the temperature, the occasional blow of warmth from the fire was enough to sustain her. She knew the feeling would not last, especially with the fire slowing, but she was determined to enjoy the cool until it turned to cold. The hand rolled smoke in her hand, lit by the very fire before her, aided in sending warm tendrils through her body. She sucked on it lazily, letting the cig dangle from between her pointer and middle finger of her left hand. With each intake of smoke from it the light lit up her face just barely, until going dark as her lungs filled. She breathed out, the plume of condensed smoke pushing into the air until it mixed with the smoke from the bonefire, and dispersed into the air.

A smoke, for Makia, was always a good way to keep warm, as well as even out an evening of partying and excitement. She watched the wood in the fire as it turned to charcoal and veins of bright orange cracked its way through the fuel. She began to hum, piercing the early morning with a calm tone, going only slightly in volume. The Wicks across the fire from her would barely be able to hear the tune drift across to them, while those closer to her would be able to make out the notes. The tune continued after she took a drag, louder this time, and then she began to sing.

"A snitch in your midst,
A blight on your fight,
Down the hill where the Galdori lie.
As Alioe's time rolls,
And Anaxas revolts,
History attempts to transcribe.
Freedom does reign,
Clear on the plains,
On the back of the Black Hand tribe."

The song she sang was only part of a Black Hand tribe song that was sung in her tribe for years. This version was sung in Estuan, despite there also being a Tek version. However Makia preferred this version, it sounded prettier and seemed to have deeper meaning, at least to her. Her singing voice was not great, but the melody was simple and even with her Tek accent while speaking Estuan, it was not too difficult to completely butcher. Once she finished the verse she delved back into humming, continuing the melody, but not the lyrics, taking a drag of her spur every few moments.
word count: 658

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