[Chapter 4]

Charcoal & Sand

"Here, here, child. Let me get ready," murmured an older lady approaching from behind her, "I’ve already got the charcoal paint mixed up in this bowl here. You might as well let me use it."

"Uh, thank you," replied Corrin, doing a short bow with her head, "Thanks, Mara Lillim."

"It's hard to be a Mara some days, my child. Being a mother to every one of these bratty Asla’ati children sitting before us," Mara Lillim vented, "Every child is as much mine as it is the Mara that birthed it. Even the bratty ones, she paused, "I don't think I could bare the thought of losing you or any of my kin. Our families are just different branches on the same old Hometree."

Corrin let out an awkward smile, looking down to the sand.

Mara Lillim dipped her index and middle finger into the bowl of black paint and smiled, with a head nod.

"Are you nervous Corrin?" asked the Mara while staring into the girl’s pale blue eyes, "I remember my first dance. I used to be so scared."

"Uh," Corrin thought out loud, "not really," she lied.

"Then you're braver than I," smiled Mara Lillim as she leaned in, "Here, close your eyes."

The Mara wiped her paint-dipped fingers across Corrin's closed eyelids, covering her eyes in dark paint like that of a raven's pitch-black wings.

"I used to pee myself when my turn to dance came up. I was a nervous wreck," whispered the Mara.

"Uh," paused Corrin at a lack of words.

Corrin looked up and smiled awkwardly at the Mara, "No. I’m fine. It’s only a dance."

The Mara wiped her two fingers, evenly spaced, across both of Corrin's rosey cheeks and then drew lines vertically down her neck and across her arms.

"Yes, yes. But, I seen some dances go wrong. They can get quite messy," replied the Mara waving her blackened finger in the air.

Mara Lillim leaned in closer to Corrin to examine her work.

"Beautiful," exclaimed the Mara, "Now I've just got to do the large symbol of the sun on your forehead... No, wait,' she thought out loud, "We'll have to get some red paint to do the mark in the center of your lips and then the forehead, and before I forget- most importantly we'll have to paint your chest and lower body. We must have that painted to compliment the feathered skirt right away. This is the Dance of Fire after all. We’ve got to do it right."

"Paint my body?... No, no! I'm fine," smiled Corrin awkwardly as she looked to the large audience around them, "I’ll be able to do the rest myself. Thank you, Mara" she nodded.

"Oh... Okay," paused Mara Lillim, "well, here's the bowl of black paint. You'll have to mix the red paint yourself. I'll leave that tray with you, but I’m trusting you will return it," she laughed, "I know where you live!"

Corrin let out a sigh of relief as she watched the Mara walk towards another nervous dancer.

"I thought she'd never leave," spoke the voice of a familiar man behind Corrin.

The man placed his hands over Corrin's eyes.

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"Guess who it is!" exclaimed the anonymous man.

The man took his hands off her, and leaned over into view. Corrin's eyes lit up, with a big grin and shouted "Graine!" with glee.

"Yes! I came down to see your first dance," replied Graine wiping his hands in the sand.

"I forgot you were all painted up for the dance," he smiled.

"How are you?" she asked, excitedly to see her oldest friend.

"Here, let me help you get dressed," interrupted Graine as he looked over at Corrin's large basket. "I've been good- can't complain," he added, "I've been pretty busy with work on the fields. Still hoping that they will finally allow me to join the ranks of the hunters."

"Yeah," Corrin replied, "But, you're clanless. They won't allow a man who isn't tied to honour into their ranks."

Graine picked up the ornate wings on top of her basket and placed them on her lap. He then picked up the black underlayer garments and passed them to her, "You need to put those on under your dress- won't be able to wear that sort of dress for this sort of dance."

Corrin smiled, making a duh expression with her face as she moved the wings off of her lap and onto the sand.

Standing up, Corrin slipped into her underlayers before handing over her dress, embarrassed.

Graine leaned over and lifted up the large ceremonial wings. Using the cedar bands and woven rope Graine securely tightened the large fern and feather wings to Corrin's slender arms.

"Well- I'm thinking of starting my own clan," he winked.

"Corrin pushed Graine over with a smile ear to ear, "Oh, come on. You have someone in mind, do you?" she laughed.

"I'm still deciding," Graine replied as he sat in the warm sand beside her, "There's plenty of girls looking for a guy like me- you know, a farmhand with excellent skills."

"Oh, yeah?" Corrin smiled, letting out a dorkish laugh. "You know of girls looking for a clanless man who can not hunt?"

"I've got a lot of time on my hands, so I'm reliably around all of the time. I won't be late for festivals or dinners because I'm never out hunting, which means I've got all the time in the world to listen. I hear women love great listeners."

The two looked at each other, trying to hold back laughter.

"Well, try not to get married so soon. It's not like being a hunter fits you anyways. And, you know what, I won't have anyone left to hang out with when you're gone. And, I don't want you getting killed neither!" pouted Corrin playfully, "You'd make a terrible hunter."

"Nobody to hang out with? There are plenty of girls to befriend, you know. Try talking to them."

Graine stood up and pulled the sacred headdress from out of the cedar basket and then tucked Corrin's royal dress safely inside the large basket.

"I don't want to befriend them," Corrin grunted, "None of them like me- they only pretend to because of my grandfather's status as King and Chief."

Placing the headdress gently over Corrin's head, Graine tightened the straps to secure it.

"That's the exact same reason I pretend to like you," smirked Graine with a cheeky grin, "I don't see any wrong in that."

"Oh, it is. I knew it," she laughed, stumbling over from the weight of the newly equipped headdress.

"See, this is why I love you," she added.

"I know," he grinned.

"You always make me smile, even when I'm at my worst," she continued.

"Oh, come on. You can't be that nervous for this dance."

Corrin paused, as her blue eyes teared up.

"I'm so nervous for this dance, Graine!"

"It will be fine," he assured her.

"Dancers have died doing this dance! It's scary, and I'm afraid. I don't want to be here, but I have to be..."

"Yeah," he agreed, "you have to be. This is important to this whole community, but it's even more important to your family- you're the King's only granddaughter after all."

"If the Red Bird doesn't like my dancing..."

"-I know... You don't have to say it."

"He will eat me- he'll kill me in front of all of my people," she paused to catch a breath, "but that's not what really scares me. It's the fact my clan will lose its honour if I die in such a dishonourable way. I'll shame my King- my grandfather and the Nagalia clan. I know I'll do fine, but it's still the thought of it. I keep pretending I'm fine, but I'm scared."

Graine continued to dress Corrin in her ceremonial attire, having her step into her feathered skirt, which he then fastened tightly against her waist and then leaned in to finish tying the cedar bands to her arms and legs.

"Nothing like that will happen today. Nawa and I will be cheering you on from the sidelines, like always."

"Thanks," Corrin spoke nervously, "Do I look ready?"

"You look stunning," he answered immediately, "Like a big red chicken."