1st day of the 8th month 610th year of the 8th era

Ingirid awoke to the sound of beating drums. Her head pounded. She wanted to sleep. Light seared her eyes and she raised her hand to block the sun coming in through the slats of the shuttered window. She got up and opened the window. Outside, a parade of people and gnomes streamed past with drums and cymbals making a celebration. She groaned and looked around the room she was in; it looked familiar; she wasn’t sure why.

A small metal mirror stood in the corner and she got a look at herself. Her hair was a tangled mess. The dress she wore was rumpled. She shucked off the dress and examined her body. It was still petite and her stomach a touch too flat. A set of muscles were showing. Her breasts looked good, the right size, not too big that she would need to wear support for them but not to be too small to avoid notice. She smoothed her hair down and it sprung up. Unless she could find a brush, she was going to have to do the walk of shame. She didn’t remember much after climbing onto the table to dance. She remembered that Anatoli had given her the all clear signal.

She looked around the room once again and saw a backpack next to the bedside table with a crude brush. She sighed, picked it up, and began to slowly brush it through her hair. The tangles started to ease, and she sighed in relief. With her hair sorted back to some semblance of normalcy, she looked at her clothing. She had no undergarments whatsoever; she only had her dress she wore yesterday. She could possibly get away with wearing it again, however, anyone that saw her yesterday would remember the garment—it was very pretty. She slipped back into it again and posed in front of the mirror and took stock.

She was still looking great; her black hair complemented the dress, a light blue, mid-thigh, backless dress with a deep décolletage that widened at her navel. She stepped into her shoes and strapped them on. Happy, she opened the door. A tall, thickly built man stood in the doorway.

“Good to see you are up,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” she smiled back. “Did we?” She pointed at herself and him.

His eyes ran over her body and he sighed, “Not last night.”

“That’s a pity,” she smiled at him and placed a hand lightly on his bare chest. “I would have let you.”

His eyes were a well of sorrow. “I would have if it hadn’t been for Aquillia.”

“Who is Aquillia?” she asked.

“Just an elf I know. Have you finished with my room?”

“You’re the man that was with the elf. I knew I recognised the room.”

“Yeah, you stole my sword,” he said and stepped past her into his room.

“Right.” She turned and watched him. “The freebie.”

“Hey! You offered,” he said from the room. He pulled off his trousers and opened the bag.

She raised her eyebrows and looked him over. He was thickly built but it most certainly wasn’t fat.

He looked up at her. “Do you want to come in?”

She smiled at him and stepped back into the room and closed the door behind her. He stepped up to her and lifted the dress strap behind her neck over her head and then let go. The whole dress floated down to the floor. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his thick neck and kissed him.

His hands pulled her into an embrace, then he lifted her up and placed her on the bed.

***

Drum music woke Tunio, the sound pounding through the wood of the bed and the walls. He sat up in his bed and pulled open the window shutters and looked out into the street. A large group of people was streaming through the street wearing bright coloured clothes and waving streamers and bashing large drums. He stepped away from the window and pulled on his trousers and stepped into his boots.

Doris stirred from the bed and looked up at him.

“Hey, can’t you hear the music?” he asked.

“Morning,” she said and sat up. “Oh that, it means it’s a festival day.”

“Festival Day? Please explain.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“On a farm.”

“Really? That would explain the …” she waved a hand at him.

“That would explain what?”

“Never mind,” she said, flopping back onto the bed. “Festival Days mean no work.”

“I don’t have any food; I will get hungry.”

“Come back to bed,” she insisted. “We will deal with food later.”

Tunio shrugged and stepped out of his boots.

She turned on to her side and smiled at him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his hands stopping at the top of his trousers.

“Just watching,” she smiled. “Take them off and join me.”

“That’s not fair,” he complained. “I don’t get to watch you undress.”

“Because my clothes are over there,” she said, pointing to her dress draped over the bedside table.

Tunio dropped his trousers quickly.

Doris laughed at him and threw back the sheet as he climbed back in.

“I think you deserve to be punished for not telling me about the festival.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He pulled her into an embrace and punished her.

She laughed as he came back to bed.

***

Anatoli woke to the faint beating of a drum, the complex pattern of the moon day festivities; he rolled over and reached for Ingirid and felt empty silk sheets.

He sat and looked about the room. His prize was propped up against the far wall and he looked at it. The hilt was covered in golden gilt. The working of the handle was fine and worked to look like a dragon, with the blade coming from its mouth.

He walked over to the sword and picked it up. The leather scabbard was worked in soft, red leather. The strap ran from the top of the scabbard to the bottom. He lifted the sword and pulled the strap over his head, then he reached up and drew the sword. It slid free with a gliding scrape of metal.

The blade was gently curved and shone in the light coming in from between the slats of the shuttered window. His eyes were drawn to the top of the blade. Words were etched into the top. Anatoli pulled the blade closed and read the words.

A man’s heart is fickle,

true must a man’s heart be

to wield the spirit.

What is the spirit?

He turned the bade over and discovered more words etched into the other side of the blade.

Honour and glory,

reveal the soul

remain true to your word

and see glory.

What does that mean? I am sure Tunio knows the meaning of the words. Father probably taught him the meaning.

He reached up and returned the sword into the scabbard. He lifted the strap and pulled it over his head.

“You are not the bearer!” a voice shouted into his mind.

“Who is that?” he asked out loud.

“Return me!” the voice screamed back.

Anatoli dropped the sword and backed away from it.

“I know my bearer and his line shall wield me,” the voice boomed again.

A bright light shone and filled the room. Anatoli flinched back and covered his face.

“You will not see again until the bearer returns,” the voice boomed again.

Darkness enveloped Anatoli.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Sir, are you alright?” a woman’s voice called, muffled through the door.

“Please find Ingirid and tell her to come here,” he called.

“Ingirid did not come home last night,” the woman’s voice replied.

Anatoli cried. The door opened.

“I will send someone to find her,” she soothed. She wrapped Anatoli into a hug, her warm body pressing against his.

“Who are you?” he asked, turning to her and placing a hand on her face. “I can’t see.”

“I am Suzan,” she said. “Let me help you into your bed.”

“Bless you, Suzan.”

She lifted him up and guided him to his bed. She smelt of jasmine and lavender.

“Rest now,” Suzan soothed as she pulled the silk sheets over him. “I will send someone to fetch Ingirid. Where did you go last night? You didn’t come home with her.”

“We went to the Whole Hog.”

“I will send a girl to go and find her, a girl would cause less attention.”

“Thank you, Suzan.” He heard her pad across the room. Something clattered onto the desk, and then the door closed. The sound of her feet padding down the corridor faded into the distance.

“She was not the bearer,” the voice echoed in his head. “Return me!”

Anatoli turned his face to the pillow and pulled it over his head and wept into the mattress.

***

The deafening pounding of drums woke Aquillia. She reached out to the other side of the bed smiling. She found a warm spot and sat up. The spot was empty. Where the devil did he go?

She threw back her sheet and strode across to the door. The drums were beating loudly. She opened the door and saw Logan standing at his door halfway down the corridor. The door to his room opened and Logan started talking to the woman that had slept there last night. Aquillia watched as she stepped out and he stepped in.

The woman had a figure that made Aquillia jealous. That figure and that dress. Any man would fall for that dress.

The woman turned and looked back into the room. Aquillia couldn’t hear what they said over the beating of the drums. The woman then stepped back into the room. Aquillia dashed up the corridor and came to Logan’s door. It was shut. She placed an ear to the door and heard giggling from the other side.

How could she compete with that figure? And that dress? If she was honest, she couldn’t. She walked back past her daughter’s room and heard muffled talking. She sighed.

It seemed that she was left alone, and on a Festival Day. The drums kept beating. She squared her shoulder and stepped into her room. She pulled on her skirt and looked at herself in the small silver mirror. Her body paint was soft and delicate. Her breasts were still perky and firm, larger than that woman’s and yet she was still alone. The brown skirt complimented her skin tone and she brushed her hair into a soft wave. The deep brown tresses were her real treasure. She tied them back with a small red ribbon. She walked out of her room and closed the door behind her. Today was a Festival Day. She was free from entanglements, that was evident when her partner from last night was now boning the woman she had protected.

She walked down the corridor and stood outside Tunio’s room and heard muffled talking and lovemaking. She sighed and continued to the end of the corridor and walked down the stairs and exited the Whole Hog, and into the Moon Festival.

The street was clogged with men and woman dancing in the streets. The festival lowered barriers for a day and all were equal. If you were alone on this day you could find someone, even if that person was in a different social class or even a different race.

A woman stepped out of the crowd and sat on the steps of the tavern. She wore her hair tied back with a white ribbon. She was lithe and wore a simple white dress that hung off her shoulders. It pinched in at her hips and hung to her knees.

Aquillia sat next to her.

“You are in the tavern?” the woman asked.

“Yep.”

“Good.”

“This looks like a good spot to watch the festival from.”

“It does.”

“I am Aquillia. If we are going to be sitting next to each other at least we could become friends.”

“Irrawella. You don’t have any friends in there?” Irrawella pointed to the tavern.

“I do but I just found out that I was the fifth wheel.”

“That can’t be true.”

“All of my friends have company today.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

“I am alone in the world.”

“Surely there is an elf man waiting for you.”

Aquillia laughed. “I haven’t been home in nearly thirty-five years.”

“In thirty-five years you haven’t found another elf?”

“Elves don’t normally come this far away from the Forest of Garmore.”

“Why did you?”

“I was looking for my brother.”

“He came this far out?”

“I haven’t found a clue of my brother and his wife in thirty-four years. I found a captain that said he took them to Tranquillity Bay. He was dropped off at Rolf and then the trail went cold.”

“You made it through the Dragon’s Gate?”

Aquillia shook her head. “I took a caravan, from Rolf to Trame.”

Irrawella nodded. They lapsed into silence.

“Where are your friends?” Aquillia asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t have any.” Irrawella shrugged.

“What? A pretty thing like you?”

Irrawella laughed. “I work alone.”

“What about family?”

“My master bought me after my family was killed in a pirate attack when I was young.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Irrawella shrugged, wiping away a tear from her eyes.

Aquillia pulled her close and held her.

“Thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal. My daughter just got married yesterday.”

“How old is your daughter?”

“My daughter is thirty-one years old.”

“What happened to her father?”

“He died, just recently.”

“So, you did have someone special.”

“He was going to be someone special,” Aquillia said, “until he married that dark elf. Just like Logan.”

“What happened?”

“I was with this man, then he got married.” Aquillia shrugged.

“No, with Logan.”

“Well, I thought we could have something special, and last night was pretty good, but this morning he shacked up with another woman.”

“Wow. Men are jerks.”

“Anyway, let’s find some company for today.” Aquillia stood.

“You go,” Irrawella blushed.

“Nice meeting you, Irrawella.” Aquillia stepped into the crowd.

“Nice meeting you too.”

***

“Okay I am hungry now,” Tunio said, sitting.

“I am not done with you yet,” insisted Doris.

Tunio danced away from the bed and grabbed his trousers.

Doris tossed back the sheets and clambered out after him. “I haven’t finished.”

“I am sorry,” Tunio pleaded. “I don’t think I can keep up with you.”

Doris stopped in the middle of the room. “Fair enough then. I can find other people to be with.”

Tunio stepped into his trousers. Doris grabbed her dress and pulled it over her head. It was a long, green, rectangle dress which came down to her ankles. She pulled her arms through the sleeves that came to her wrists.

Tunio stepped into his boots and looked for his sword. “Did you see my sword?”

“You lost your sword?”

“It was here,” Tunio said, pointing at a corner made by the wall and the bedside table.

“You need to find that sword.”

Searing pain ripped through his head and he buckled over.

“I have been stolen!” a voice called into his head.

“Tunio! What is it?”

“A headache,” Tunio said. He straightened. “It’s gone now.”

“That sword is very important. You need to find it.”

“I plan to. It was also the only thing I have of my father.”

Doris stepped into her satin shoes and opened the door. “Today if you go out into the street, food will be free.” She winked at him and then walked into the corridor and away.

Tunio walked down to Aquillia’s room and knocked on the door. He knocked again and then opened the door. The room was empty. He closed the door and walked to Metilia’s and Gazali’s room. He knocked on the door. He heard a loud thump.

“Who is it?” Gazali asked.

“We don’t have anything to be ashamed of anymore,” Metilia said. She opened the door. She stood in the doorway, her body glowing from the light of the corridor reflecting off a small amount of perspiration that had gathered on her skin.

“I need your help,” Tunio said.

“Tunio?” Gazali asked, stepping up to the door behind Metilia. His body also was covered in a fine layer of perspiration that reflected lightly in the corridor light.

“My sword has been stolen,” Tunio declared.

“Logan had his stolen yesterday. Have you asked him?” Gazali asked.

“Let’s get dressed and help him find his father’s sword,” Metilia said.

Gazali sighed. “Alright, give us a minute.” He closed the door.