Festival of Soul
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William's Perspective
I stared at the sky as dragons of all shapes and sizes flew toward the open mountain. Roars echoed throughout the sky. My back shivered at my father's words. We can go to the festival. We can see the dragons.
The Festival of Souls.
A festival for Omara, a testament to her. She allows the Dragon Riders and the Order of Drake to exist, fueling the power of all riders. She is the reason we can stand against the Blight.
Despite wanting to join the Order, I wasn't so crazy about the religion itself. Heck, even Barren wasn't either, and he is the Knight Commander of the Order itself and of the kingdom, serving next to the King, who surprisingly wasn't a rider.
"When can we go?" I turned around to await my father's answer. I couldn't help but see Lord Dimmal holding his head up with his hand. He furrowed his brows as if he were in pain. "Lord Dimmal? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, just a minor headache." Lord Dimmal waves me off.
Letting go of his head, he approaches his dragon and mounts it. "I have my duties to tend to. I hope you both enjoy the festival."
A lightning spark goes off in the streets, and thunder echoes throughout the sky despite thunder clouds now anywhere. But people throughout the city cheer loudly. We see a dragon fly over us, and a trail of lightning follows behind it.
Seeing that dragon made me excited. I can't wait to see more.
Chuckling to myself as Lord Dimmal's dragon climbed back up the building, pulling some of the bricks out as it raised its wings to take off. The wind barrels down at us from the dragon's mighty wings as it joins the rest of the dragons flying toward the mountain.
Before I could turn, my father pulled me into his arms. "Come. Let's go get our money from Cryken. Can't be part of the festival without money."
I chuckled loudly as I tagged along with him, excited to finally attend the festival. My father never allowed me to go with my friends.
Walking down the city blocks, spotting people of all life varieties walked along and past us. The street is filled with beasts pulling carriages or people riding them. Street lights are lit as the sun starts to go down, turning clouds into a very bright orange color instead of their usual grey. The streets and sidewalks were filled with cobblestone, trimmed and cut to a fine block, neatly organized. There are apparent signs of weeds growing between the blocks and signs of weathering and mud staining the cobblestone roads and walkways.
The buildings, too, were changing. Since we were near the guild and closer to the gate, the buildings were designed mainly out of brick. A form of protection in case the guards must establish a new base or defendable position.
Now, the buildings had signs of wood, brick, and stone. Mainly using stone as the foundation for the house, most of the walls had only brick lined with wood above them. The trims of each building are lined in fascinating patterns using wood, which is sometimes used as support pillars, depending on the building. Tile rooftops were everywhere, designed to be a diagonal slant on the buildings, mostly chipped due to all the dragons. Many of the towers, which were more often than not everywhere, were explicitly made out of brick and stone used for the dragons. Plenty of rooftops could hold up the dragon's weight, but there was the tower where the buildings couldn't. Dragon towers, we called them.
I spotted a few people wearing cloaks and wands, walking farther down the street. Noticing a few suitcases following behind them, floating in the air.
I was in awe; imagine how useful that must be. I wished I had that so I didn't have to push a damn carriage.
As my father and I continued walking down, I noticed a sign hanging from a building. The sign was made of wood, swinging from a chain connected to a metal rod attached to the building. The sign appeared to have a pig on it that was cut into pieces while surrounded by a C.
It was Cryken's Butcher Shop.
I asked my father, "Am I allowed to come in this time?"
He sometimes lets me in, but he gets mad at me when I ask questions about what we hunted or gathered. Like the time when I found out we hunted a group of animals that barely fetched a price, my father intentionally made us hunt those creatures that day.
I was so mad at him. It's no wonder why we are broke. Then there was the time we chased a particular lizard that had magical scales that could be sold for material, and we didn't harvest them. We just sold the body as it is. Just thinking about it made me want to scream.
Hearing the sounds of jingles, my father tosses me a silver coin, quickly catching it. The silver coin was cold to the touch, solid, and smooth, engraved with a K on each side. If I recall correctly, the K stands for Kalos, the name of our world.
"Go get us some masks; I'll meet back up with you." My father patted my back as he went inside the shop. Leaving me alone for now.
Sighing as I turned back around and took a left down an alleyway, heading towards the mountain. People of all ages and varieties were running there as well. The road started to curve downward as I continued walking the pathway.
The sky started to turn orange as more light posts throughout the city turned on. Children were jumping around as bards sang their songs. I even see them using magic to make musical notes float in midair.
Watching one of the music notes float up from the musical instruments as they grow bigger and bigger. Its magical green color vibrantly glows, pulsing as it wobbles up and down the street as children run after it. I followed them, but not with the same childish enthusiasm to run after it.
I'm not some child.
People continued to walk down, hanging lights everywhere as many magicians started to show up. They conjured up specters of all shapes and sizes.
My gaze soon turned to an eight-legged horse taking off into the sky as people screamed joyfully. Soon, two dragons dove after the horse as it ran through the air.
I chucked out loudly as the specter and its pursers vanished.
Continuing to walk down the street, a crowd formed as vendors littered the road. I took in the moment as I saw people starting to wear masks.
The masks themselves only covered the eyes and up, but nothing more. They were all different styles and ornaments. They were designed to be based on both current and old dragon knights. But not riders.
I jumped as the loud crowd howled behind me. Turning around, I immediately ducked as two dragon riders chased after a glowing red man with a cowboy hat on top of the same eight-legged horse galloping in the air. The man was carrying what seemed to be a red orb.
My heart was pounding, startled by the riders' recklessness. I stood back up, only as another rider swooped down to us, shouting at the crowd. The rider howled in enthusiasm as he flew away from us.
My lips were curved into a big smile, I baring my teeth. From what I understand from some of the people I have talked to, this was a common occurrence.
They could've fooled me.
Flying this low was very unsafe. But then again, I don't have wings, so it might be safer than it appears to be. After all, the dragon does the flying, not the rider. But I'll find out for myself when I become a rider. I do know one thing. If we were meant to fly, we would've had wings.
A loud, thunderous sound blasted into the sky, making me and everyone look toward the sudden noise. I stood in awe as blue lights burst outward, showering downward as they flickered in the sky. Then, I saw two more riders flying up to the lights, their dragons pushing the lights away.
From where I stand, I can see the two riders have stopped in the air, having mid-conversation. One laughs out loud as they toss an orb into the sky, only to detonate as another burst of lights appears where the orb once was. The sky rumbles with a thunderous roar, making me flinch as red lights burst into a heart shape, slowly dimming as the sparks that made the heart go down to us.
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I and everyone else stood there in awe, hearing the crowd "oooooing" at the spectacular as I felt waves of warmth from the sparks hit my skin. I tried to reach out to the flickering flame that floated down towards me, only for it to flicker out.
My skin tingles at the sudden temperature change as I watch one of the rider's dragons start to breathe fire out toward the empty sky, running straight into a fully developed ball of fire. I almost fell over as I watched anxiously, wondering what happened to the rider as he flew into the fireball. I, along with everyone else, jumped up as the rider flew out of the smoke. I could barely stay in my shoes as I watched, laughing out loud as they perfumed their displays and clapping my hands as the music started to play even louder.
Turning to my side, I see more people putting up stalls to sell goods or food. I can already smell the fresh season of herbal meats with a pinch of salt. Turning to the source of the smell, I see a stall with what appears to be slices of cut meat on a stick, with a slight pink in the middle of the meat itself.
Women dance alongside children and men, moving with the music. I never knew people had this much fun here.
I understand why, but I never participated in the Festival of Soul or saw what took place. Only standing afar to see what I know to be fireworks. So, this was a whole new experience for me.
"Little Will, is that you, young man?" An older female voice spoke out, making me turn to a nearby stall.
I saw a woman wearing a brown corset laced in the front as her white chemise extended slightly over her corset, revealing a form of wisdom behind her appearance, clearly indicated by her slender physique. I can quickly tell who she is based on her jawline and voice. Her cheeks were slightly puffy, and a red blush was highlighted over her skin. Obvious makeup. Her jawline was simple but elegant, as it curved finely with her chin, which was oddly round. Her face was covered by a yellow scaly mask with blue lightning bolts going down both eye sockets as red feathers peaked over her long, curly hair, neatly bundled up to give her much more grace as it tucked behind her ears. Her earrings were two silver orbs dangling gently beside her elegant face. Her eyes were gray as they reflected the lighting around us.
"Aunt Silfe! I wasn't expecting to see you!" Running over to her stall as quickly as possible.
She started to laugh out loud. "And here I thought you and your old man wouldn't celebrate this year either." Her hands were placed at her waist.
Children ran behind her stall, chasing after what appeared to be a magic specter of a dragon riding a unicycle. Aunt Silfe started to laugh at the display.
"My father actually said that we could come this year. I'm still shocked he even agreed." Literally, I am still surprised he said yes. I tried begging my father every year, but he never budged. Why now?
"You know how he is, Little Will. Always kept secrets despite not looking like he does. Always has a plan or two, staying at least a few steps ahead to keep the advantage. I propose you try to learn this as well, Little Will." My face started to turn red. I just realized that she is still calling me Little Will.
"Stop calling me Little Will. I'm not a baby anymore!" I furrowed in annoyance.
She used to call me that when I was still a baby, turning into a child. When my father went hunting, he would leave me with Aunt Silfe. He says, "I trust her not to make you a religious fanatic." I always wondered why he said that especially when he said it as if he had a grudge against the Order of Drake.
Aunt Silfe does attend their church ceremonies like most individuals here, but she isn't so by the book. Most nobles are, so they look down on those who are not of "Dragon Blood."
Maybe that's why my father let her watch over me. Keeping me as close to the religion as possible, but not too close to be, as he says, "Blinded by it."
"Oh, please, who changed your diapers and wiped your buttocks when you were growing up?" My face turned red as I tried to cover it, hoping no one saw me or noticed our conversation. "Who taught you how to write and read while your father went out to hunt? Me! I did! And don't you forget it!"
I can barely remember that time. Oh, Omara, how embarrassing! I try to cover my face as I hear a few girls giggling behind me as they overhear Aunt Silfe's conversation with me.
I want to die.
"Can you keep your voice down? This is humiliating."
"Haaaaa, you think that's humiliating? You haven't seen a woman being caught on one of her bad days." Aunt Silfe laughed hard as she slammed her hands down on her stall. Bad days? What is she talking about?
"Uh... what do you mean?"
The only thing she gave me was a wink. "Anyway, you need a mask?"
Holy crap. I forgot about the mask my father told me to buy for both of us.
Suddenly, as if Omara herself were watching, Aunt Silfe was selling masks. Talk about convenience. I was so engaged in our conversation that I didn't notice the masks.
"I almost forgot," I said, blurting out. "How much for two?"
"Just 20 coppers, little Will." I rolled my eyes at her, still embarrassed and flustered by her words. I handed her the silver coin my father gave me. "I hope you and Gwyn are getting enough coin to live off of."
"We make do with what we can," she responds as I look down at the masks she has on display.
They vary in color and ornamentation. Some had feathers, while others had crowns on them. That's when I noticed a mask that represents Barren. Its scales were white like Barren's dragon Elrid, with the same three horns protruding, one on top and one on each side of the mask. I took that mask along with a black mask, representing the great hero Elton, the first rider. Elton's mask had black scales, with two horns protruding down the sides and two more on top. If I recall, his dragon was named Mortem.
"I'll be careful with that one," Aunt Silfe said, pointing at the black mask. "People say that mask tends to be a bad omen."
I waved her off as she handed me back my change. "Aunt Silfe, you know I don't believe in that superstitious nonsense."
"Didn't you want to be a Dragon Knight?" I looked back up at Aunt Silfe, stunned, not considering she would have remembered what I used to say about when I was younger. "If you still want to, you better start believing in them. You have no idea what's out there." She gave me a wink as she pushed me away. "Now you go off and have fun."
I run down the street as I turn around for her. "I will. Thank you, Aunt Silfe."
She laughed as I took off towards the mountain.
I took a moment to think about what she said: "I have no idea what's out there." Yeah, I don't know what's out there since I've been here in Hearthglen my whole life.
I shove that thought behind me. I can worry about that later. The festival can't wait.
Following behind a crowd of people, a massive, bulky lizard pulling a cart roars out. Nothing stood out about the creature. Besides, it was huge and brown. It pulled an enormous cart decorated with fancy ribbons and a red silk curtain. It was a noble's cart, but I ignored it and kept walking towards the mountain.
After a few minutes of walking towards the mountain, I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched. Turning my head to the sides and behind, I couldn't see anyone looking at me. Everyone was dancing and cheering at the rider's display of fun. Heck, there was even a sport that they were playing.
Before I could say anything, I felt a weak, warm presence behind me, making me turn to see a sky-blue orb flying towards me. I thought it was another magician's magic, but it looked familiar.
There's no way it could've been a magician. It got closer and closer as I felt its warmth. My skin tingled slightly, spasming at its warm presence. It wasn't precisely warmth that I felt, but a comforting feeling. But all magic usually has a weird sensation, even if it is a unique spell like this one. As it drew closer, I felt it press against my shirt as it floated into me.
I could feel it inside my chest as my heart raced. What is happening? The tingling sensation of its warmth spread throughout my body as it vanished completely, leaving a sudden cold shiver down my spine as if something had left me. I immediately knew what it was as I looked back up to see my father before me.
His face was disappointed.
"So you went out and got yourself a mask and celebrated the festival!" he was angry. I should've looked for him, as my heart ached. Filled with guilt, I looked down at the ground. I was so distracted by the festival that I forgot to find him.
"Without me!!!"
Looking back at his face, I realized he wasn't angry. He looked upset—probably exaggerated it, but upset nonetheless—that I had fun without him.
I pulled out my hand, still holding onto the two masks, and handed him the black one.
"I haven't forgotten, father." I smiled brightly at him as he took the mask, hoping he would forgive me.
"Mask of Mortem? Are you trying to say something to me?" he answered, smirking at me; all signs of anger or disappointment disappeared.
Grinning back at him, "Don't tell me you believe in that superstitious crap too."
Watching my father take the mask and put it on, he smirks at me, his eyes matching his mask, looking as sharp as a hawk. "I don't. Come on! Let's head down to the show before the Matriarch shows up." Following his lead, I put my mask on as well.
Father and I continue walking down the path towards the mountain, occasionally moving out of the way for the kids and families.
We can clearly see the massive pillars supporting the mountain. The pillars were enormous; it was almost impossible not to be in awe of their size as my mouth dropped open, gasping out loud. I always wondered who built these pillars. From what I heard, the pillars were made out of the mountain's stones, called quartz.
The scene was breathtaking—each pillar formed a mesmerizing spiral, winding up to a diamond shape in the center. Bridges connected every pillar, creating a network of tunnels that extended throughout the mountain. The pillars and bridges were adorned with decorations and lights, and the quartz reflected the light, illuminating the entire area.
As night fell, the lights created a beautiful orange tint that glistened on the ground, making it look like daylight was in the mountain. Everyone around us was partying, enjoying the stunning display in front of them.
My nose tingles at the smell of more cooked meat, making me turn to a Wyrm Tails vendor.
My father purchased two, one for me and one for him. We slowly make our way to the center of the mountain, feeling rubble fall onto our heads as we look up to see many dragons perch on the pillars and bridges spreading throughout the mountain. My father even smeared some of his Wyrm Tail onto my shirt.
Then we heard it...
A roar bellowed throughout the mountain, making the ground shake as I struggled to stand. The roar left a feeling inside my chest that made me feel small compared to everything else. Everyone cheered as I turned around to see the giant moss-green dragon flying down into the cave. How crap! It's the Matriarch. She was not just gigantic. She could level the city itself. She easily overshadows any dragon I have ever seen. She was even more prominent than Lady Elrid.
Holy Omara. Her wingspan was quickly over a hundred feet.
The Matriarch lands as the ground shakes, and all the dragons cry out for her. People are running towards her, as she is part of the celebration. We have to go see her.
"Father! Let's go! It's the Matriarch!" I grabbed my father's arm, pulling him as I led him to where everyone was going.
"Easy, Will," he responded, trying not to fall over. But I was impatient. My excitement was getting the better of me.
However, I still felt a weird presence. It was almost as if someone was watching me, but I ignored it. I had a festival to attend.