Faolan opened his eyes.
The brightness of the dawn had disturbed his slumber, but he welcomed the waking world gratefully. He had dreamed again last night. And not the pleasant kind either. No, his dreams as of late left him feeling trapped in his own mind by fear. He remembered little of them upon waking, leaving him only with a lingering feeling of foreboding; like something was going to happen. However, he shook his head, his icy silver eyes turned towards the curtained window and to what the day would bring. He had no time to dwell on such things when the Season started within the month.
With a feeling of anticipation for today's activities and an apprehension for the unknown, the young arctic fox stepped out of his modest bed to make himself decent. Stepping before the mirror in his bedroom, he noted with some annoyance that his fur, normally a pristine white, still retained some dirt and mud from last night's hunt. He had been too tired to change out of his clothing entirely, still wearing his sturdy hunter's leggings. In a rare instance of hesitation, Faolan found himself staring at himself in the mirror.
He recalled the last words his father had spoken to him before leaving him and his mother to travel in search of his missing sister, Serena.
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"You have the eyes of your mother, lad." Aiden chuckled at the younger Faolan as he rolled his eyes. Silver, just like his mother's, Ansli. They both ended up with a grin on their faces afterwards, though the child's smile soon faded as the gravity of the situation hit him again.
"You have her fire as well." His father acknowledged, a sadness in his eyes as he realized he could not keep the seriousness out of their farewell. After all, was there ever a good way to tell your child that he may very well die fighting to retrieve his daughter?
"Never let it die out." He finished, his smile now only a memory of happiness.
Faolan only looked up to him, "Just promise you'll come back." His voice was as small as he felt at this moment. He did not wish to lose his father to the Outsiders, too.
Aiden got to his knees before his son, embracing him. "Oh Faolan," He sighed, "This is not goodbye. No matter the distance between us, we will never truly be separated." Faolan only gripped his father tighter.
"This is not goodbye," The young Faolan's father repeated, more firmly this time as he pulled back to look his son in the face.
"I'm merely just...in the next room." He smiled reassuringly before going to board the merchant ship he paid to accompany.
That was 12 years ago. He was 7 at the time.
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"You look more and more like your father every Season..."
The voice of his mother startled Faolan out of his reverie, and he jerked around to face her. She had been standing in the doorway to his room, head leaning against the frame.
"M-mother!" He started, "I apologize, you startled me; I did not hear you enter." She was right, though. While he got his silver eyes from his mother, he got his physique and certain mannerisms from his father. It showed especially in the shape of his jawline, and whenever Faolan became angered or frustrated. The unconscious swishing of his tail would become agitated, and he would have a hard time holding his tongue. Though, other tribe members speculated his temper came from his mother's side of the tree. The only other feature of note Faolan possessed were his ears. His mother often joked that he got his unusually large ears from Arcanen, the ancient arctic fox spirit of Myth. Much to everyone else's laughter and Faolan's own embarrassment.
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"It is alright, I only wished to check if you were awake." She paused, "You should go to the river out back to bathe -- we don't want to prove the Outsider's opinions of our 'barbaric ways' true with your smell." She chastised with a small smile. Though, her eyes narrowed at the mud on the bed, along with the muddy pawprints leading to it.
The young fox huffed, one hand rubbing the back of his head, "I was just about to go, Mother."
"The Great Mother be praised." Ansli whirled around as she exclaimed exaggeratedly and headed to the kitchen before her son could retort. "Hmph."
"And try not to freeze the river again!" Came a final shout from his mother. It was ONE time... He thought with a flick of his ears in annoyance.
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Upon carrying his change of clothing to the river, Faolan marveled, as he always did, at the beauty of his home.
Given the magical nature of the very land itself, life evolved to reflect this. Trees often grew bioluminescent foliage, and certain shrubbery lit up at night, releasing spores of World Energy back into the air that looked like fireflies of all the colors of Winter. Even light itself was part of the beauty of Ísey, the moonlight lighting up the thin veil of fog that was omnipresent there. It was like all the aspects of nature came together in a symphony of magic -- a monument to Nature itself. All thanks to the Great Mother.
Ísey was considered by most non-natives to be a barren, frozen wasteland, though the few Outsiders who have visited the Tribeslands were met with shocked surprise at the vast flora and fauna unique to their home. The stubbornness of the life that clung to the earth was equally matched, if not surpassed, by the native peoples of Ísey. Much to the annoyance of the Outsiders so many centuries past, Faolan thought to himself with a dry smile. The People's way of life was seen by most as barbaric. At least, barbaric to those who did not grow up in Ísey. The culture shock was too much for any Outsider with any "proper" upbringing to tolerate.
Realizing he had gotten distracted once again, the young fox set down his clean clothes on a nearby tree stump and discarded the dirty leggings, stiff from dry mud. Faolan was not bothered by the near freezing temperature of the water as he eased his body into the river. In fact, it comforted him. Warm water had the opposite effect, bringing him great discomfort if he was exposed to it for a prolonged period of time. He ducked his head under, swimming further in, before surfacing, now halfway between both banks. Shaking water from the hair in his eyes, he methodically scrubbed his fur clean of the caked mud, dirt, sweat, and grime of last night's hunt. The hunt had been successful, but not for the lack of nature itself seeking their failure, or so it seemed. Faolan had been tripped by a particularly sneaky root, much to his embarrassment, and had fallen partially into a mud puddle. It did not rain often in Ísey, but when it did, the earth rebelled.
As he bathed, he found a familiar sense of calm that he always felt near or in bodies of water. He was especially calmed by the crashing of the ocean waves upon the rocks of the southern coastline. It brought him a peace that sleep never could. Faolan sighed, the tension and apprehension of what the day would bring gone for the time being as the muscles of his back relaxed. He leaned back, just floating in the water in bliss, for the moment ignorant.
"Faolan!"
Faolan sighed; his mother called to him, ruining the brief moment of peace.
"Coming!" Grumbling about the nature of annoying mothers, the fox manipulated the water around him to propel him faster towards the riverbank. Fire magic had never been his strong suit, but he could do simple things, like drying off himself and others, as well as lighting candles and small fires. And so, he brought his palms together to channel the magic. He finished the gesture needed and dusty red embers of power quickly dried him off before dissipating. He got dressed, but he found the excessive decorative elements exhausting to look at, never having been one for the flair of the Outsider's clothing.
It was simple enough in design, he supposed. A bluish gray vest with silver buttons covered a white tunic, that was tucked into black cotton leggings, paired with stained leather boots suited for time at sea. It was comfortable, to be truthful. The quality of cotton they got from trade was usually scratchy, but these had the softness of silk. And though he loathed wearing their style of clothing, he could not disregard the beauty of the overcoat. Its color was that of the sunlight reflecting off a field of snow, embroidered with the patterns of frost. A gift from his father before he left, for when this day finally came. Seeing it, Faolan had to stifle tears.
"I'll make you proud, Father..."
He donned the coat, and headed home for a final meal before the Farewell Ceremony.