PART VI - EVENING’S LIGHT
“How’s the foot?” Callie asked Vanis. He was trying hard not to walk funny, but despite wrapping it for protection, the missing toenail made walking a little awkward.
“Somewhere between annoying and quite annoying,” the Elf groused. “At least Trainer Rowani can do a Regrowth on the toenail, but that will take a couple days. No pain, it’s just strange.” Master Healer Tasi had caught him walking gingerly as the entirety of Ogre House plus Jesca were on their way to dinner. She chose not to press the issue about what happened when Vanis asked her not to, probably still having an idea without any details. She nevertheless did insist on inspecting the work Xin had done ‘just to be sure’. Tasi ended up quite happy with the slow-repair work Xin had done and was quite amazed at the results of Artemis addressing the bruises and swelling. Still, before they had parted with her, Tasi did add a little bit of additional healing so Vanis would be at least able to move easier, using the moment to teach Xin something, and adding she’d let Rowani know that her services were needed.
Vanis sighed, turning his head to look at his five housemates and the Cheetahkin. “Thank you again for your assistance with putting things back into order. That bed is surprisingly heavy when not raging at the world.”
“Not heavy,” Tazrok corrected. Then he looked down at the Warlock. “Okay. Heavy for tiny Elfling.”
“You’re a good friend,” Vanis said, smiling and touching the Ogre’s arm. “You all are. Thank you.”
Tazrok beamed at the praise, his grin wide and toothy.
Following dinner, the group had all spent time cleaning up the cabin, accompanied by another conversation, this one less rushed, discussing all that Vanis knew about the deaths of the King Regents. Unfortunately, that wasn’t much at all.
Vanis had received three ciphers via the Network during the week, which was actually quite surprising, as encrypted messages were difficult for the Scryers to send. They were effectively gibberish to them, so were tedious to pass along. The first simply informed him that Captain Huvaen had returned. The second was from the Spymaster, thanking him for his and Callie’s thoughts on where to investigate, but also firmly saying that ‘all possibilities are being looked into’, with an implied suggestion that the Prince focus on his current obligations and leave the spy stuff to the professionals. The last was from his step-mother, with a response to his worries for his sister, Alena’s, safety and a heads up about the incoming proclamation. As had the spymaster, the Queen had also included a strongly implied ‘don’t worry about it’. So, of course, he worried about it.
After over an hour of the conversation circling upon itself while they cleaned up, it came to an end with a promise from Vanis to reconvene what Callie and Pixyl were now calling ‘the misfit resistance’ as more information was learned. It was a silly moniker for the group of seven, but strangely felt appropriate for some reason. However, it did take several minutes of tedious explanations in order for Xin to finally understand that ‘misfit’ wasn’t being used as an insult and how it was supposed to be funny or even a sly compliment. Eventually, the Lizardkin figured it out, or at least said she did. Most everyone wasn’t so sure the Shaman truly understood.
Now, the group was on their way up to the training field to join those getting a headstart on the holiday’s relaxing. There was still a lot of daylight left, the sun not fully setting fully for a couple of hours still, but you could get the sense that a pleasant evening was promised. No smoke was yet visible as it was still too early for any bonfire to kick off.
Up on the field, some changes had taken place. In the center, far enough away to leave room for the bunkerball field, a huge canvas-tented area had been set up. It was large enough to seat not only all the recruits, but also the camp personnel and visitors. This would be where the big formal dinner and dance would occur. It was also where the ladies would gather to make all of their Midsummer masks and costumes, while the males would be gathering in the recruit mess tent. For those that straddled the gender lines, like Xin or Shul’an, they could go with whichever group they wished.
Callie had been amazed at how quickly the pavilion had been raised. It only took an hour for Captain Kela’s team of people to swoop in, get poles sunk and the canvas tied tightly in place. They had a little help from the Geomancers, who could use magic to make holes and then pack them back in, but even had the Wizard specialists not been around, it wouldn’t have taken much longer. A wooden floor, tables, chairs and other necessities would be brought up during the following day. It was once again a testament to the master quartermaster's logistical expertise.
Several people, not just the recruits, had broken off into some kind of a game called ‘bumpball’ that was quite similar to volleyball, with a few minor changes. Teams of eight lined up on either side of a long net, which rose to about chest height for a normal-sized person. A head-sized leather ball was put in play, and the players needed to keep it in the air, bouncing it between themselves at least three times, while making sure the ball never touched the net or ground, and stayed in bounds. To add a challenge, a player could only ever ‘bump’ the ball a single time while it was on their side, so the more times you volleyed it to a teammate, the fewer eligible players there were remaining. Once the minimum count was reached, it could be sent over the net to the other side. Of course, it had to remain in bounds, otherwise the opponents would get a point and control of the ball.
Once cleanly over the net, you could score a single point if the ball hit the opponent’s ground before the first bump by one of their players, often the result of spiking it. If the opponents got the ball into the air though, and it subsequently hit the ground or net, went out of play, or they ran out of eligible bumpers, then that was worth three points.
The action was fast and fierce, and creative trash-talking was heartily encouraged. Even the excited crowd would get in on the insult-action, often getting players to crack up and miss an important action. Players, staff and visitors all rotated out often, so everyone that wanted had a chance to play, with even Swopik and Chown both stepping in and doing quite well, despite their small size. Eventually the two Goblins even managed to get Callie to rotate through. Not being much of a team-sports person, she enjoyed the banter and silliness more than the actual play, but also did her best to represent, focusing simply on bumping the ball high so someone taller could get the spike.
The boisterous game was exactly what everyone needed after the news of earlier. It was a fun, pointless distraction and pressure release given the sadness they had been feeling, and a good way to start off the six-day holiday. Vanis even welcomed it, despite his earlier wish for a quiet evening. It took a bit of work, but Callie, Jesca and Lena even managed to convince him that he needed to take the royal stick out of his ass and join the play, despite the awkwardness in his foot. He removed his sash and rotated in, but it was immediately apparent he wasn’t a very good player. In fact, he was bad, really bad. So bad that he became the go-to target for the other team, based on the strong likelihood the Warlock would send the bumped ball wildly out of control. Nobody on his team cared, though. In the end, it was all in fun, to the point that the score was eventually lost track of.
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Two hours came and went in almost a blink, and by now the sun was beginning to move low as the skies slowly turned red. After the game broke up, a good number of the players returned down the hill to change into fresh clothes, or even grab another quick shower first, the sweat of playing needing addressing before settling down to socialize. Those that weren’t so ripe gravitated to the enlarged fire circle, where the first wisps of flame were beginning to rise. Wine, mead and harder drinks soon began to make the rounds, as well as a few snacks, including a potato-like tuber vegetable that could be roasted over the fire while impaled on a stick. The flames would turn the starches to browned sugars and soften it, leaving behind a chewy, sweet snack that, to Callie, seemed quite reminiscent of a roasted marshmallow, although the color was more orange.
Vanis eventually returned from Ogre House, cleaned up again and now carrying his lute, but unfortunately with his recent smiles now slightly muted as the events of the day came back into his head and the world settled down. He took a seat on a log that had been repositioned to make room for more, and plucked on a few notes and chords. He didn’t even need to use his Inspiring Melody skill in order to lower the vibe from slightly-raucous to relaxed. Vanis didn’t sing, and what he played was more of a pleasant random melody than a song.
Others filtered in, including camp people and visitors, the latter easily identifiable by the white on their arms. As the sun finally dipped below the trees, the only sounds being Vanis, light murmurs, and a slow crackle of the fire, a lot of people paired up, likely pre-arranged Midsummer couples. Callie found a few rather surprising. She’d suspected Wallir and Melga, and interestingly Lhawni had finally decided to pair up with Chown. Ambria was surrounded on either side by the twins, which made Callie instinctively wonder how that was going to work. Nola and Xin were together, the latter above and sitting on a log, while the former sat in the ground between her legs. Fynisse and Duni were even apparently together, the Fairy having surprisingly matured over the last few weeks, a complete change from that first day. Others, too. It was nice to see everyone seeming happy, as Pixyl snuggled up on her arm.
Eventually the lute began to be passed around, and Callie knew it would soon come to her. She’d been wracking her brain, trying to come up with something that was both mellow, but also uplifting, too. Eventually, Callie’s thoughts drifted back to when she was a young girl. She couldn’t have been older than eight, and had managed to wipe out on her bicycle. Mostly it was her ego that had been bruised, but there were still some scrapes and ouchies to deal with. Her mother had tried to tend to the injuries with a cloth and warm water, but Callie was being difficult and hovering between crying and anger about the pain. It was finally her father that calmed the scene, stepping into the kitchen with his old acoustic guitar and playing a simple song that his own father had taught him when he was little older than Callie. It was a perfect distraction in the moment.
When the lute finally came to her, with the circle being larger, she called up a quick Sigil of Amplification and pushed it to her chest as she’d practiced. Surprisingly she got it in place on the first try. Callie added a second treble clef Sigil, this one to the lute, and began to play the introduction. The amplified and unfamiliar notes sent out to the circle caused muted conversations to fade away in curiosity. In a way, it was the wrong song, being the end of the day, but if you listened deeper into the lyrics, it also was just the right one, too. She looked at Vanis, giving him a smile that she hoped conveyed how much his friendship meant to her, and began to play Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles[1]. The light applause from around the circle at the end was sincere, yet also filled with a confused curiosity at the new music from those who’d not heard Callie sing and play before. Still, the song had set the right tone, allowing everyone to simply relax and enjoy the moments of just being present.
“Thank you,” Vanis said when the song ended, patting his hand on Callie’s shoulder as he sighed. “That was exactly what I needed.”
“More!” someone called out, with a few others adding an agreement.
“Something simple, perhaps?” Vanis suggested in concurrence. “What was that improvised instrumental you were playing the other day? Something to do with color?”
It took a moment, but then Callie realized what Vanis meant. One of the difficulties Callie had been finding with Earth music was that so many of the lyrics she knew had references to something unique to home. Cars were a surprisingly common mention, but even cities or technology or some historical events seemed to crop up frequently. She’d made a few mental attempts to substitute lyrics that were appropriate for here, but with mixed success. When practicing with Pixyl, if she got too far into the zone, she’d forget the changes needed to the words and end up having to stop and explain what she was talking about. Now, at Vanis’s suggestion, Callie focused on what she’d known since she was a little girl; what her father and grandfather had grown up with and raised her on. She simply played the blues. Nothing fancy. No lyrics. Instead just some easy, backporch rhythms and notes emulating what her elders had taught her, using her thumb to sound out a slow drumming beat against the body of the instrument. [2] That got people lightly swinging their toes in rhythm and swaying to the unknown notes, and she didn’t have to explain any strange lyrics to anyone.
After a few more minutes, the lute’s Sigil faded, and Callie concluded what she was playing with an appropriate outro. She acknowledged the scattered, quiet applause, including louder-than-the-rest from both of the visiting Gnomes she’d seen the day before. They were sitting in a small group, along with Thorn, Natala, Jorin and Nevikk, the young boy’s white teeth offset in the firelight against his dark skin and green hair.
Callie handed the lute off to Vanis, who in turn passed it down the line to someone else that was calling for it. Soon, a group of well over a dozen Dwarves, largely made up of camp personnel and visitors, but joined by a few of the Dwarven recruits, began a low, largely-acapella singing, punctuated by only an occasional light chord on the lute. One of the oldest, a visitor, seemed to take the lead, droning out slow rhythmic words in a language Callie didn’t recognize and definitely wasn’t Fae, with the rest of the group responding in an equally-low refrain. [3]
“Not many speak ancient Dwarven any more,” Vanis whispered to Callie, leaning forward to look around Juniper, who had joined the circle and sat down between them, “but these are well-known stories set to music. It pays respect back to the time centuries ago when the Dwarves all lived under the great mountains to the north, in what is now Cillisant. Vast, interconnected cities where they mined mithril and other metals or gemstones. Manastones, too.”
“Oh, cool,” Callie whispered back, immediately reminded of similar-sounding music in The Hobbit movies. She settled a bit to get more-comfortable, moving to slide to the ground. Pixyl scooted to the ground, too, and leaned against her, getting just as comfortable up against Callie, with Jesca soon joining the two on Callie’s other side. The three laid back, drinking in the Dwarven history that none of them understood, but all could still feel. Off in the darkness, but not far away, Artemis lay in the grass, Loki sitting next to and leaning against the unicorn. Neither of them were big fans of fire, and seemed to have developed a bit of a kinship over that fact.
They all lazily watched sparks rise from the fire, the skies now well-past dark, the little orange firefly-like embers mingling with real fireflies displaying other colors. Occasionally, there was a flash of chromatic light overhead as Iris swooped through the air, playing in the rising heat and enjoying the tasty, blinking insects. Her wings would ripple through a spectrum of colors, nearly everyone truly seeing a chromatic drakeling dance in the dark for the first time, leaving streaks of light in their eyes. The atmosphere and the sight was beautiful and, for the moment, the world simply felt right.