[Event] Galavanting

[Catriona Fraser]

1st of Yaris, 2719 • midday

“I don’t know why I agreed to any of this. I haven’t been back here since I was a schoolboy. You know when I was young, we were not permitted to run around like these- these hooligans!”

Mr. Raynarus went red-faced as two twelve or thirteen year old galdori children went by screaming at one another, nearly knocking the older galdor off his cane. Cat couldn’t help the grin on her face as he grumbled more about how dress code certainly had changed since he’d been at Brunnhold. She signed to him, Did you not want to come see the locomotive?

Funny, Estuan sign had no word for locomotive. Cat hadn’t even heard that word until it was presented on a pamphlet for the upcoming Gala. Something that Mr. Raynarus has kindly offered to let her come along to. It was the first time she’d ever been to anything like it. There was a ferris wheel, games, music, and enough food to fill every belly in Anaxas ten times over. She was practically bouncing with excitement. Raynarus only rolled his eyes at his human apprentice. She didn’t get out at all and he wondered for a moment if he maybe should have been more thoughtful of her social life when she was a teenager. Nah.

“Yes, I do want to see the ‘moving-steam-carriage’. That isn’t for another four days. Do you mind explaining why you thought it necessary to arrive this day?”

Cat stared at him completely unable to stop smiling as she signed, “Fireworks!”

Raynarus palmed his own face. The girl was 22 years old and acting as if she were still 14. “Yes. Fine. Fireworks. I should not have let you make the arrangements if I wanted this to be a simple trip, I suppose.”

Cat shook her head, practically laughing.

“Cat. This is...a very crowded place and I see that you are excited but if I hear one mention of a crazed mute redhead causing any trouble I will drag you back to Vienda by your ears and you will not leave the forge for another decade.”

Cat sobered up and nodded, giving a small bow while signing, “Sorry, Master. I’m just really happy you let me come with you.”

Raynarus held back a smirk. Truthfully he was here to show his face and spend the rest of the time in a tavern where he could hopefully relax. But if nothing else, watching the human’s reaction to everything was indeed entertaining. Cat knew her place. That much was true. It was also true that Raynarus had interacted with her very little in the past few years and he could see she had grown up a great deal in that time. But something in Raynarus refused to stop being the strict Master to his apprentice.

Cat was turning around and doing that thing where she rocked on her heels when he flicked her in the back of the head. “Pay attention. Do not take anything anyone offers you for free, and do not leave the main festivities. Do not go anywhere with anyone unless it’s in this public place. We’ll meet back here at sundown, you can watch the fireworks and then to the Inn.”

Cat nodded but she wasn’t even looking at him. Raynarus rolled his eyes, seeing that he was going to have to hope for the best or follow her around. He opted for the former and headed into Brunnhold to go do all the obligatory hand shaking he could before the end of the day.

Cat was left in the stacks, looking happy, overwhelmed, and unsure of what to do first. Of course, that changed immediately as she saw a man...with a cart...selling food...on sticks. Sticks! Cat begrudged that she herself couldn’t always enjoy certain foods without looking like a freak but nonetheless she hurried to join the already growing line of people waiting for this novelty food.

[Albigence Fitz]

1 Yaris 2719

In a rare moment of unhindered joy, Albigence Fitz was smiling widely. It was a nice smile, too- one of straight, clean teeth, one that hugged the edges of his eyes and drew laugh lines around his mouth. It had been years since he had ever been to Brunnhold to see his siblings off. Eighteen years, he reminded himself, and he never thought he would return. Yet, here he was, a new freedom pinned to his chest. He exhaled, waved a silent thank you to the caravan of Old Rose vendors that had let him hitch a ride, and stepped off down the streets of the Stacks, a small covered cart tailing him as he pulled it gently.

He walked with an excitedly fast gait down the streets towards the direction everyone else seemed to be headed, his cart bouncing along behind him. He was dressed lightly in the Yaris heat, a faded white canvas shirt with flowing sleeves over grey trousers. His long dark hair was braided down his back, and a wide-brimmed hat kept the sun off his pale skin.

Just weeks before, Albigence had found Bjorn's life savings in the dead man's apartment and decided he could afford to travel to the Stacks for the Gala of Physics. However, the young passive wasn't there for mere enjoyment. No, Albigence was there with an exhibit of his own, and it would be the debut of his creation that jingled slightly as the cart bounced over the cobblestones. He was excited to debut it, and he had spent the past week practicing every waking moment outside of shop hours. Now, it was a matter of setting up somewhere. He was unfamiliar with the Stacks, only a mere child when he had last been among the humans and Brunnhold students that lived there. He had in his hands a crudely made map he had copied down from one of his travel companion's brochures of the event, but it was easier to follow the crowd. He wanted to be somewhere busy for his debut, anyway.

Albigence was hit by a wall of delicious smells as he rounded a corner into a small square lined with carts and stalls of food and various items- tops, puppets, jewelry, and animal skins all hung for the temptation of a customer. Lines of people- galdori, human, passive, and wick alike- stood in line for food in the open square, chatting amongst themselves in the warmth of the Yaris sun. This was his stage. He wheeled his cart to the side of the square beside a busy stall selling food on sticks, a nervousness crawling out of his stomach and into his throat as he began to set up- first the short wooden table, then the attached spinning wheel, pedal, and track that connected them. It seemed almost as if he was going to set up some sewing machine in the middle of the square, but, instead, he pulled out the crown of his creation, a skewer of glass bowls in ascending size, and attached it to the wheel. He reached into his wagon again, pulling out a clean white rag, another bowl, and a water skin. He emptied the water skin into the bowl and set the bowl on his little table before thoroughly wiping his fingers onto the rag. Then, with a dramatic flair, he spun the wheel, and, in turn, the wheel lifted the pedal on the ground, the pair working to keep each other in motion. The bowls began to spin, and Albigence wetted his fingers in the glass bowl, flicked the excess water back into the pool, and raised his hands above the skewer of bowls as they spun. Gingerly, but deliberately, Albigence put a practiced pressure with both hands onto the spinning skewer.

Sound erupted from underneath his fingers, not loud, but just the right pitch to slice through many of the other sounds on the square and float above him. It was a nearly ethereal sound, one like the continued ringing of a choir of tuning forks. He moved his fingers smooth from bowl to bowl like a piano player would, but the haunting sound was far from familiar as he did. A few bystanders began to turn towards him, to lean around their companions to look at him, but he kept his head down. He needed to focus on his performance, even as his nervousness dissipated on the sailboats of his notes.

[Catriona Fraser]

on the 20th of Yaris, 2719 • sunset

The man selling the food on sticks was very popular indeed. Now that she wasn’t under the watchful eye of her master, Cat felt she could relax a bit. She wasn’t sure why but around him she tended to revert to a teenager. He’d been her only father figure for eight years but he certainly had not treated her with any love. He commanded respect to be sure, and he’d always looked out for her more than most would. He even gave her an allowance as an apprentice and helped her with signing, writing, and math. Still, he made sure she knew her place and attitude was seldom tolerated. So around him...she felt as though she were constantly on thin ice. But that had not stopped her when he asked her to plan their trip to the Gala. Cat had done as she was told, with a little of her own plans added to the mix. She hoped he would not truly mind, having become a bit more mellow in the past few years. She saved her coins and prepared to spend the next five days spending each one on anything she found that sparked her interest.

As Cat took her turn in front of the cart the squat man hurried her along, practically giving no time for her to consider how she might tell him which thing she wanted. Instead, before she could even gesture to one, he gave her a price. “Two for a hat my dear! Either ya got it or ya don’t! Come on now!”

Cat, flustered, handed over a coin and had two sticks shoved in her hands. One had chunks of ham on it and the other little chunks of cake. Cake on a stick! How completely unnecessary and yet, very fun. Cat made her way to a nearby curb and sat down to enjoy her treats when someone walking past caught her eye.

He was a passive, that much she could tell as he walked by. But he didn’t look Anaxi at all. Cat finished the ham and started on the cake as she watched him set up right by the stick food vendor. With every new piece he added, her curiosity was piqued. She discarded the sticks and stood several feet away, watching closely as he pulled out what looked like glass bowls on a stick. How ironic that he should set up here. Cat smiled at her own little joke. But then he began to play. Play. The bowls.

With each resounding note, Cat was not the only one to notice. Several more people stepped up to watch the impromptu musician play his strange instrument. The music seemed to get stronger and more beautiful as he played, and Cat watched in awe as he sipped his fingers in water to activate the sound from the glass.

She wondered how it all worked and began studying the contraption closely. The music was, of course, beautiful, but even as the crowd gave way to new spectators as others moved on, Cat was still there, resisting the urge to bend down to check out the pedal. She did restrain herself though, and managed to not draw too much attention to herself as the song continued. The music was unlike anything she’d ever heard and she felt as though she could stand here forever listening to it.

She looked around for perhaps where he might have laid a hat or a case and wondered if it was proper to drop a coin or two but could find no such place, so instead she waited.

[Albigence Fitz]

2o Yaris 2719

The melody was haunting, a deep melody of Hox that mimed the cold winter wind and the shape of the mountainous horizon in its up and down low minor key, a repetitive but flowing melody that got more complex and powerful with every added loop. It was a song of youth and of home, one his father had sang to him in the days before, the days when they were still hopeful that he'd be as successful as his siblings. In fact, it had been the first song his father had ever taught him on the piano so long ago, the first song that made him excited to learn music and push him into the talent he was now. It was bittersweet now, a song that softened the hatred he had for his family. He was a passive who wished he simply would've been born human, but, it was a song that made him wish what he'd never admit- that he would've been born as pure a galdor as the siblings he despised. He played, and his father's voice rang through his head in both the warmth of a hung and the cool sting of the neglect he had felt for 18 years.

Up where only Bash can know,
High above Valley Blue,
That's where my hero roams.
My son these mountains smile for you.

He was deep in his memory now, the bowls melting away to piano keys warmed by the sun streaming through a tall window of the study. His feet weren't touching the ground anymore, but dangling as he sat on a shining wooden bench. His father kneeled beside him, Jamison a spitting image of Albigence now but with shorter hair streaked with a few friendly silver strands. The man slipped a low stool below Albi's booted feet.

"If you want me to teach you to play, Albigence, then you must allow me to teach you to play properly. That means your feet must be flat, not dangling, and curve your fingers, please!" his father ordered him gently, standing and brushing himself off before coming to sit on the bench beside his son. Immediately, Albigence's fingers curved as he had been reminded a hundred times in the last hour but kept forgetting. His father flipped a page in the small white book that sat on the piano's stand, revealing a small valley drawn above fat quarter notes with the letters of the notes penciled in beneath them.


"Ah! You know this one, Albigence. Play it for me," he requested, and Albi looked up at him. He was smiling. "Come on, Honeybee. Play it. I'll even sing with you." Albi nodded, slipping his fingers across the ivory keys then slowly, painfully, plucking out the keys. Every note was a decisive and long search from book to fingers to keys, but, nonetheless, Jamison sang along.

There, only the giants play.
Scared they are of none.
Hold fast to your sword and slay;
Show them to be scared of one.
If fear is creeping up behind
Look deep in the Valley Blue.
There my lantern bright will shine
For my hero of the Valley Blue.

Before the last note was done ringing, Jamison swept Albi onto his lap, poking the boy's nose with his index finger.

"Oh, Honeybee!" he began, hugging his son tightly until their cheeks touched. "You will be so great," He pulled Albigence away from himself and smiled down at him, the joy and pride of being a father nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

You will be so great.

Albigence finished the song, opened his eyes, and nostalgia melted away. Before him, a small crowd watched and, realizing he had finished, many began to turn away. He was nervous, unsure of what one was supposed to do after playing a song on the street. Was he supposed to bow? He did, slightly, then reached back into the wagon and procured a small jar which he sent down on the ground. At contact, a few coins clinked against the glass, inviting his audience to add to his collection. He stepped protectively between the audience and his armonica.

"I will take requests," he announced meekly, the nausea and anxiety he had managed to suppress during his song returning and making his hands shake. He clenched his fists to steady them, then exhaled slowly.


You will be so great.

[Catriona Fraser]

on the 20th of Yaris, 2719 • sunset

Cat applauded but she wasn’t alone. Several others seemed smitten with the instrument the man had produced and played so beautifully. Tears had come to her eyes most certainly but she wiped them away with a smile. It was good to be moved this way by music. When the man sat a jar down, she immediately approached it and happily dropped a couple of tallies into it.

She then stood in front of him, seemingly waiting for him to continue playing. She said nothing at first, how could she? This hardly seemed the right time to pull out her notepad and she had no way of knowing if he could sign. So she waited, smiling gleefully, the scar on her face not doing her any favors for trying to not look like a crazy person.

At his offer to take requests, Cat thought for a moment before someone in the crowd shouted the name of a song she’d not heard of but apparently others had as there were a few nods in agreement.

Still, she pulled out her small notepad and pencil and began writing the name of a song that perhaps he might know. It was called Joyful Mourning. A song many times sung at funerals (At least, human funerals.). It was actually a very nice tune, and the lyrics spoke of being happy that the deceased would no longer suffer among the living, their soul passed to the beyond. Of course there was no telling of her know it but nonetheless at the end of the next song, she stepped forward, gave a small bow of respect and handed him the piece of paper from her notepad before stepping back several steps to give the musician his space.