"Ready to head back? My father is going to be needing me to help him with the festival preparations today," suggested Jin, stretching and leaning back on his elbows. Hard cords of muscle rolled under his skin with the movement. Mak quickly focused on several locks of her hair, twirling them between her fingers. She responded with a reluctant sigh and quick nod. Early morning was long gone. The easterly sun was well above the horizon. Its rays of warmth penetrated the dawn’s coolness.

"Why can’t the festival start today?" she groaned.

"Awww. Is it really that hard working at the Temple? It must be so difficult to learn all those healing herbs and ceremonies. If I could, I would trade places with you. That way you could spend your entire day covered in guts and blood, chopping up carcasses. That’s so much easier than reciting a prayer verbatim," teased Jin with a smug grin.

"Don’t tempt me into pushing you off this ledge, Jin."

"You’d have to catch me first."

Mak’s laugher echoed in the crawlspace as she scampered after Jin, cat-like and agile in his escape. Emerging at the perpetually dim side of the Wall, they caught the limb of a tree and scampered down. When their feet met solid ground, Jin and Mak began to walk back along the path used earlier that morning. Mak kicked at a pebble absentmindedly before restarting the conversation.

"Honestly, I would love to trade places. At least you are doing something. Every day, it’s the same routine of nothing. First, we pray. Then we are taught what to do and what not to do as - ugh - ‘pillars of faith’. The best part of the day is when they finally take us outside, but it’s only to learn about herbs for cooking perfectly roasted whatever or how to disinfect a cut. Finally, we pray once more and go home. I hate it. I would rather butcher rabbits or gut fish all day."

"Easy for you to say. I’d give anything to spend all day inside, clean, and comfy. Today is going to be brutal. We have so much to do for the feast."

Mak pulled her face into an exaggerated frown. "Poor little you."

"You should feel bad for me." Jin leaned in and playfully winked. Mak groaned, guising a threating smile. "Thankfully, my work ends once the festival starts."

"How nice for you."

"Which is perfect, as Som told me he plans to get everyone together for some pre-festival fun, if you see my meaning."

"Of course he is. How could we properly start Palwi without one of his little celebrations?"

"It would be an afront to tradition! Personally, I cannot imagine a Palwi without a certain someone enjoying herself a little too much and creating a scene! It was only a year ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday."

Mak smacked his arm.

"Don’t you dare motion another word. I was ready to just curl up and die the next morning. No, wipe that dumb grin off your face, Jin. It really was not funny at all."

"Oh, but it was."

A daze fell over his smirking face as he pranced over to a nearby birch to mock a hug and a kiss on its wooden cheeks. Then he paused and hiccupped before pretending to heavily retch all over the poor tree. Half swaying, half fluttering, he then moved to another and repeated the sequence before breaking into a fit of laughter.

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Mak waved a dismissive hand at him but chuckled at the reenactment of a now-hazy memory.

Well, do you plan on joining or not?" Jin asked as he fell back into step, still fiendishly grinning.

"I wouldn’t miss it for the world."

"I’m expecting Som to seek me out tomorrow to help with ‘provisioning’ his little party. Can you let the others know? Since you will see them later today? I’m surprised Lee hasn’t told you about it yet. Or Wen. I would think that they would already know."

"Yeah, I’m sure they do, or at least figure that Som is going to do something anyway. I mean, it’s Som. Literally, try imaging the day where he is unable to find an excuse to get drunk as an owl before a big festival or event… He would have no reason to continue existing."

"Ah, simple men are the happiest of the bunch," Jin responded sagely.

"I’m sure you know this firsthand."

"Look at who’s not being very nice now!"

Clearing some brush, they stepped on a well-trodden dirt trail leading out from the forest’s leafy canopy. When followed, the walkway stretched down a soft slope to level out into a large road. A murky river of dark soil in tall, amber grass dotted with delicate blue wildflowers, the path snaking onward. It eventually splintered into narrow distributaries, cutting in between a hundred or so dwellings constructed of wood, clay, and hay. Further down, a delta of alleyways fed into an extensive clearing serving as the village square. Cloth-covered stalls outlined the area, already alive with the sounds of bustling bodies and bartering. The smell of smoked meats and fresh bread wafted through the air. People shifted back and forth, like wind-blown reeds, greeting and conversing with each other.

Beyond this center of commerce stood the very heart of the community. Fossilized into the sheer cliffs of a modest plateau were twin cathedral towers, spiraling stone-spackled erections, connected by grand arches and jutting balconies. The ever-widening road, where stray footpaths eventually rejoined (for all paths led to the Temple), terminated at a steep staircase to the Temple’s entrance.

At the base of the plateau were deep springs that fed a calm river to the west of the village, a cyan ribbon bisecting rolling fields of wheat and corn framed by distant grey mountains. Woods draped in earthy moss hugged the remaining fringes of the grasslands, perfuming the air with balsam.

The entirety of Mak’s world was before her, so neatly contained.

A sapling in a pot. She thought.

Jin drew her attention, signing, "Listen, feel free to spend the entire day staring off into space, but I need to go to work, or my father will hunt me down and skin me. I’ll come find you sometime tomorrow when everything is set up."

"Sounds like a plan."

He signaled his farewell as he turned away from the path to head back home. He was soon swallowed up by the camouflage of the woods.

Mak remained rooted to the ground, reluctant to begin the long trek to the Temple. Unwilling to start yet another day of prescribed routine. Hoping that standing still would force the world to also pause.

Then it did.

A prickle ran up the back of her neck at the realization of the utter silence in her immediate surroundings. Not a whisper of wind, rustle of wings, or chirp was heard.

Nothing.

A void filled with only the sound of her heartbeat. Mak peeked behind her.

Nothing.

Not a leaf out of place.

She held her breath. You’re imagining things. Calm down.

However, the unnatural quiet persisted, drilling a hole of anxiety into her gut.

You’re just tired. That’s all.

She took a few rigid steps forward, repressing the internal siren screaming for her to flee. She held her breath, straining for any warning decibel of danger.

There is no one and nothing behind you.

A few more steps, and still nothing happened. Mak let out a breath, and the tension in her shoulders released fractionally.

The snap of a twig—a sound so normal, so innocuous in her everyday life—now suddenly presented itself as the messenger of her doom. All rationality, fragile straws held together by self-control, was blown away, and Mak found herself flying down the road.