of Sword and Flame

Chapter 12: Masquerades and magic

 Kyra yawned, quickly stifling the sound as she walked around the empty town of Solis. The shops seemed so lonesome in the cold morning, the way their window shutters swayed sadly in the breeze. Leaves rustled in this wind as her coat swayed and caught a few in its underside. They slid under her boots, and the audible crunch reminded her so much of the snow back in Vorin.

Kyra watched small white flowers float off the trees in the distance, the sweet aroma filling the air as she passed. They looked like snowflakes. Everything in Azura was so different from Vorin. And yet, in small glimpses, Kyra found traces of her old, familiar kingdom.

"Neither are very welcoming," she muttered, considering how she dared to miss Vorin.

A door in front of her swung open hastily, and suddenly, a familiar set of different-colored eyes caught hers. Kyra began to step around him, but Ren followed her feet, temporarily blocking her path.

"Today. Leaving for another assignment. Meet me at the gate at noon." He spoke curtly, and Kyra noticed that he was hiding something behind his back.

And with that, he turned, tucking what he had been hiding, which turned out to be a small pouch of tea leaves, into his pocket. Kyra eyed the door he had emerged from, the words "pharmacy" hanging above it.

Ren was out of her vision within seconds, leaving Kyra to ponder yet again how he could slip away like dust. It was a habit beginning to irritate her.

The next day, they were in Eldehon, and Kyra was faced with the Starlight festival for the first time. Kyra's first thought was how awful the bustling scene was. It was a horror to behold for someone like her, all those displays of socialization and activity. Tents were everywhere, covered from top to bottom with intricate designs meant to represent whatever activity the tent held. There were ones painted with flowers, ones with fancy pinstripes and polka dots, and even a bright red cover with two drama masks painted on the front.

And then there were the people. The people. It was as if a whole anthill population grew to the size of humans, pushing and shoving and rushing about to visit new tents and try new things. Kyra watched as new people joined the swarm and immediately got swept up by the crowd, stuck to one another as if attached at the hip.

Saints, it's revolting here.

"Are these festivals always this..." Kyra searched for the right word to express her thoughts.

"Exhilarant?" Ren offered, looking about with a big stupid grin slapped across his face.

"I was going to say abhorrent, but sure."

"It is one of the biggest events of the year in Azura. I take it you're not a fan of parties." Ren was taking everything in with that odd gleam in his eye like a little boy let loose in the middle of a sweet shop.

"Party is actually my middle name," Kyra remarked sarcastically as Ren motioned the both of them toward a horrifically bright green-and-purple tent. "Besides," she said with a shake of a head, "I thought this was some holy event." She watched as a group of teenagers stumbled by, drowning in the scent of booze. They laughed together, the sound tearing from their throats, wild and piercing and free.

"The religious events happen at midnight. This is the party part," Ren explained, eyeing a booth with some sort of game inside. Kyra's eyes wandered past the booth, stopping at a group of children running about. They chased after the leader of the clump, bare feet trampling across soft dirt as they jumped and shouted with joy. In the hands of the leader rested a long strip of leather engraved with something Kyra couldn't quite make out. But the design of the contraption looked disgustingly familiar.