Iris kicked the pebbles lining the dilapidated country trail as she made her way back to Silesia. The journey back was a solitary one. It was nice to walk the open fields, witness to no one but the blazing star above; however, it was not an entirely welcome change of pace. Travelling didn't seem as fun without companions. At least she could rectify that by returning to a land of celebration and revelry.

The timing couldn't be any more impeccable as the summer festival was one of the few things that never dulled; the bright colors, dances, and gift-giving breathed new life into the town. Nominated as head of the celebrations for the past three years, even the bombastic adventures of late couldn't compare to the euphoria of heading an event she had spent her younger years cherishing. Hopefully, the advance notice had arrived; maybe she had made it in time to be in the runnings for this year's festival. She crested a hill and saw one of the gates that led into the village. She walked up to the passage where a pair of men stood guard. A little light of a patrol for the morning, but if their striking green hats were any indication, it seems people have already gone to celebrate the holidays.

"Halt, who goes there!" one of the men stepped forth. "I'm going to have to take a name for the record... are you visiting for the festivities, or are you for work?"

"I guess... you could say I'm here for work. I've already sent prior notice of my arrival," Iris said.

The guard squinted at her, and a look of realization dawned on his face. "Oh, oh.." the guard looked at his partner, who gave him a smirk. "My apologies, you look a little different than I remember. Ahem, go right on ahead." Iris continued through the entrance as the man gave a swift elbow to his brother in arms. "Why didn't you tell me it was her?" he whispered forcefully.

Iris began to make her way towards the church, the hub of all the holiday planning. A path she had trod too many times to count was imbued with new flair. The grey, white, and brown hues commonly seen were replaced by oranges and greens. The buildings flanking the street hung various ornaments, and many small groups were out conversing in the streets. Iris approached the church and took a deep breath, pushing her way through the front gate.

Jules was attending to some locals and took a quick look towards the door as it yawed open. "Iris?" he ran forward to greet her, shaking her hand vigorously. "You're finally here! I was beginning to worry."

Iris gently peeled off his hand with her other arm. "Glad to see you are well. Did I make it in time?"

"Well, no." he began, "But due to your letter and previous experience. I was given the go-ahead to enter your name into the runnings anyways." He gave her a soft smile. "I already gave you my vote. If you go to the main hall, you should be able to make your speech. Votes are about to be counted out soon."

"Thanks for the heads up," she replied, heading straight for the main hall. Jules flagged her down as she left. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm doing as fine as ever," she responded, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just." Jules waved his hand by the left side of his face. "Does that hurt?"

"It's an old wound now, but I appreciate the concern."

"If you say so... I guess I shouldn't keep you," he said as he went back to bookkeeping.

Iris entered the main hall, and it looked ready to burst. The modest room was ordinarily enough to fit everyone attending the event, albeit a bit awkwardly, but an influx of people compared to last year had made the room an uncomfortable mess. Iris managed to slip inside unnoticed as everyone eagerly looked forward in anticipation of something.

A strong voice rang out from the back of the room, propelled forwards by the arduous planning of an unknown architect. "Now, we shall empty the boxes and crown this year's maiden of summer!"

Iris knew the voice by heart; it was that of the head priest. She pushed her way through the crowd to get a look herself. The head priest stood behind a pedestal with hands clasped while his attendants tallied the votes safeguard in the wooden boxes behind. Precious metals inlayed on the edges of his robe were the only way of differentiation between him and the others.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He swept his eyes over the crowd, a commanding gaze that kept silence in the room. He panned his head until he reached Iris, who had made it to the front of the crowd. He paused for a brief moment, face made of stone, before turning backward to talk to his attendants.

A pause, then the head priest audibly cleared his throat. "And the victor of this year's voting... Sister Monika Miller. You may take the pedestal when ready."

The crowd erupted into a round of applause as the head priest bowed his head. He left the stand to be replaced by Monika. Iris added her applause to the chorus. She felt a tinge of disappointment, but she had been organizing the event for the past three years. Maybe it would be nice to enjoy it herself. "Besides," she reasoned, "it only makes sense someone else one. I mean, these people haven't even seen me for seasons."

Monika began her speech, promising the people gathered a time like no other. One of the head priest's attendants approached Iris during the address. With a few whispered words, he whisked Iris away to the head priest's office.

The head priest sat behind a small desk. Various talismans, oils, and other curiosities competed for space on the small tabletop. Oddities specially curated for use against malignant spirits or horrendous creatures of the night.

The man shifted forward in his chair. "Do you know why I've called you here, sister?" he asked.

"I can't say I do, father," Iris replied. "Could it be you still need my help with the festival?"

"Monika may seek you out of her own volition. I called you here because I think that you are destined for a higher calling."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you cannot be employed here any longer. Someone with your... accolades would be wasted here. Surely, it is more fitting for you to go to the capital and become an abbess or perhaps even a bishop with a little study. I daresay that if you go back to Palatine, you may be able to obtain the title of Cardinal."

Iris was flustered. "I. Erhm, I'm flattered. I don't know what to say. I don't know if I am ready for that kind of responsibility. I think that my place is here, at least, for the moment," she replied.

The head priest frowned, disappointment emanating from his voice. "That's quite regrettable. I had thought you were more than capable. I suppose we will have to keep your division of the building then. A shame, we had hoped to clear that part out to make way for the oh so war-weary peoples of our great nation, cast out from home and hearth by no fault of their own. But if you wish to stay, you are always welcome here."

Iris shrank back, retreating within the confines of the chair's armrests. "When you put it that way—" she began.

"Great!" the man stood up from his chair and uprooted Iris from her seat, gently pushing her to the door. "You have the month to clear out your belongings and make sure to enjoy the summer festival." As the door to the room shut behind her, Iris hung her head low and took a deep breath. Heading for the one place she could always find solace, she trod out the church. Jules shot a look of concern as she left, though he was quickly swamped with people moving in and out.

The Dancing Star, a respite for residents and travellers alike, was barren. It was still quite early in the morning after all. She sat on one of the many empty stools waiting for something, or more accurately, someone.

"Ah, my favorite customer is back." A man dressed in an apron rose from under the counter, almost like magic. "It gets lonely here in the morning without you ya know. I seriously considered just opening up a few hours later, but gotta keep the traditional alive, eh?"

Iris let a small sigh escape. "I wonder why you are so lonely. You are just so, so strikingly handsome."

The bartender and owner of the establishment crouched back down under the counter. He rose with a shot glass in one hand and a bottle of liquor. He masterfully twisted the cork on the bottle and poured it into the glass while looking directly at Iris. "Is something wrong? You seem to be lacking a bit of creativity today."

"It's just." Iris thrummed her fingers on the countertop. "You know."

"I know?"

"I'm going to be leaving."

"Again? But you just got here!" the man grabbed her shoulder, trying to stifle a laugh while Iris drank. "In all seriousness, good for you."

"About as good for me as this is for my decision-making," she said, swirling the glass.

"Why? I thought that's what you always wanted."

"What I wanted was a glimpse of what it was like outside the walls, and now that's forced me to leave for good. The head priest has got me heading off the greener pastures, and I'm sat here wondering how I can make it on my own."

"If you managed an adventure like that, some time in the city should be a cakewalk, and if not, you are always welcome to stay with me."

"Thanks mate, it really does mean a lot."

"It's no problem. Consider it a customer loyalty bonus."

"Now you've gotten me all riled up. I'm ready to see what the world has in store for me!" Iris leaned in over the counter. "Or, at least see half of it."

The barkeep slammed his fist down on the counter over and over again. "Glad you're back," he said, motioning downwards. "Yeah, That's the spirit!" Iris followed his arm, which gestured to the bottle of alcohol on the counter, and she gave a small chuckle.