Little Bear

[Hekatos]

Little Bear

46th of Glade, 124th Year of the Age of Steel

"As soon as I was seven, I was a sacred basket carrier," the noblewoman reminisced as the costumed girls—and some few boys—danced a slow, shuffling thing to the music of double-flutes. "Then at ten, I was a corn miller for the foundress, and shedding my saffron robe..." She gestured elegantly toward the ursine milieu.

"The festival is not difficult to explain:" interjected a pedantic voice, "in exchange for the very advance of culture implied by the killing of wild animals, an advance for which adults were responsible, the children are obliged before marriage—indeed before puberty—to undergo a period of ritual wildness.

"Lunatics before the moons," he went on. "Remembering the gifts of Aedrin, the seasonal shifts of nature, the cycles of Nerix's influence, and growing out of their stylized bear skins, becoming civilized elves."

"Pardon," said the king, his voice soft. The local chatter died down as all strained to hear what he might say. He touched the pedant's arm, nodding to the lady. "Please do continue without me." Silence trailed him like a cloak, then began to spark anew when they saw whither he was headed.

"Take the mooncakes, for example—"

"Aye, my body is ready for the mooncakes!"

A serene smile was, by some accounts, his most charming of accouterments. His robes were simple, but layer upon layer of diaphanous spidersilk that was well suited to the watery light of the palest of the moons, most visible on that evening. Tiny crystal beads and seed pearls clustered here and there like dew gathering. Smiles greeted him, and obeisance was made as he swam through the fine folks gathered on that side of the peristyle.

Already had the procession of children carried palm fronds from the temple in the deme Vrauron, and the sacrifices had been made. Now they watched the dance for the Moon, for Nature, remembering the move from wildness to civilization, and any number of hidden wisdoms their forebears had encoded into religious practices. There was no true orthodoxy upon the subject. The pedant's interpretation was as valid as the king's, though he didn't deign to share his thoughts, opining when one ought to be experiencing.

As he passed a common woman struggling with a fussing babe in arms, he smiled benevolently, laid his hand upon the child's head as in a benediction. Whether by oneiromancy or the practiced hand of a father, his touch and his simple blessing appeased the infant who might one day wear the saffron chiton themself. The woman went from embarrassed to grateful quite quickly, dipping into a respectful bow as he continued on. The peristyle was crowded, but not a crush. Smaller rituals were being held elsewhere, and there would be mooncakes throughout the city. Those who came to witness the main event came for their own reasons, and were respectful of other suppliants' comfort.

"Do you remember what you dreamed that night you were a little bear, my love?" he asked when he stopped, shoulder to shoulder with his eldest progeny, who had been wrapped in a silence and a buffer of space much as her father had as he walked among his people.

[Akantha SolEilran]

It really was a beautiful evening. They couldn’t have asked for better weather, crisp and beautiful as Mid Bloom hoped to be and usually was. The scents of the air were heady, and there was a serenity to the evening that was a change of pace from the prior evening’s events. This was the day after her 27th birthday, she had gotten her rest in after the celebration the night before and she was refreshed and relaxed. Gods only knew how late she had been up; but that was yesterday, and this was today.

When they joined the procession, Akantha followed her father, one step behind him and to his right. The long hems of her silvery-white silk gown floated just off of the ground, the faintest whisper of silk in the breeze to accompany the flutes. At some other function, one of her handmaids might have kept the train aloft while she walked, but for the festival, and time with her royal Father, the Princess of Thorns utilized the aerolyth that was set in the delicate silver bracelet that wrapped around her wrist to keep the garment from touching the ground while they walked. The bracelet, designed to resemble a vine with its little leaves and flowers, had the droplet-sized dragonshards set into the center of the blossoms. It matched the circlet that she wore to honour the festival and Aedrin.

Ritual wildness... years ago, she had done this dance. She remembered the steps, the pacing, the movements... But now, she was here to watch and pay her respects, and enjoy the experience.

Like her father’s beaded attire, her own matched in that aspect - the top half of her dress, from the neck to her waist on the right, and down further on a diagonal past her left hip, nearly to her thigh, was covered in exquisitely-crafted beads and crystals, resembling petals, shimmered under the moonlight. Beyond the caps at her shoulders, the white gown was sleeveless, showing off the bracelet on her wrist instead. Past her hips, where the beadwork ended, the dress began to flow, no longer so form-fitting. Spherical silver buttons descended down the middle at the front of the gown to the hem, and the small train behind her fanning out. When Ailuin calmed the child, Akantha could only smile at him. He was so good at it, able to soothe with a smile or a word, and that gentle touch could make one’s troubles, fears, and discomfort fade away - the Princess knew from experience.

As they came to a stop on the peristyle, she let the magic of the aerolyth relax, the white fabric fluttering down to rest. At her sire’s words, Akantha smiled, looking on and thinking. “I do remember,” Akantha admitted. “I dreamed that I was a bear cub that night - that the robes and dress were not a robe, but part of me. I bounded on all fours when we left the den, traveling through the great forest in the twilight. There were so many scents... scents I was never able to truly appreciate again until I received my Animus Rune. We played in the long grasses and munched on berries that we were able to pull off of the vines, digging in the sand on the shores of the lake. I’m quite sure that was why I requested berries every day for the rest of the season.” Her expression was soft at the memory. “Did you watch that dream, Father?” She wondered, too, if he had crafted it for her.

"There is no rose without a thorn."

[Hekatos]

Her royal father nodded, eyes there and not-there at the same time, as if he could see her dream even as she did. While he had shared many a secret thing with her over the years, there was always an element of the mysterious and aloof. Her mother had complained of it from time to time, more out of frustration than ire. He was their Dream King, after all. Knowing his friend Adamantos helped. The dragon had a similar manner and had been her father's instructor in the art of dreaming after his own father had succumbed to Wraedan's embrace.

"You made me proud that day," he said quietly, "as you do every day. I did watch it after the fact and at your bidding. I cannot say whether Aedrin blessed it or not, but it was a good dream, and one to cherish."

A girl wearing a simple chiton came before them bearing the traditional mooncakes of the festival. They were round and decorated with candles. The royals were given first choice. When Ailuin had elected his, thanked and blessed the girl, a fine, intricate tracery of mithril became visible on silver platter. To use any of the ensorcelled metal for decorative purposes would have shocked an outsider, but then it was unlikely an outsider would see mithril unless it were the last sight of all their days.

It was said it could transmit even faith, but only the Gods and the Great Makers knew the truth of the matter.

"Dread Aedrin, red of tooth and claw,
Mutable Nerix, leader of the dance,
With benevolence come to these mystic rites.
Send us gentle peace, and drive care far from us."

The prayer spoken, Ailuin blew out the candles and took a bite of his cake.

[Akantha SolEilran]

She could understand when her mother felt frustration, sometimes she had to deal with people who could be flighty with their attentions. But when it came to her Father, well, it was just his way. Perhaps it was just what his oldest child was used to, but Akantha accepted those idiosyncracies for what they were: aspects of her Father that came from his experiences. If she ever learned how to Dreamwalk, perhaps she might become the same.

Maybe some day.

She smiled at her Sire’s words, her blue eyes soft and bright. Simple words, maybe… but they meant so much. Knowing that he was proud of her only encouraged her to strive harder. For more. His approval was a high that she was constantly pursuing, and would always keep chasing it. "It was a beautiful dream that night. I often wondered whether you or Adamantos made it, because it is one of those that always stayed with me," she admitted. And might very well have been one of her influences for picking up the Rune of Animus. Hytori were already perfection personified, so to take an arcane Craft that altered their forms may have seemed blasphemous. But Akantha had been humoured, she had been prepared for it, and she had undertaken it. Even now, years later since she had received it, there was a great deal of studying that went into it as she prepared for new totems.

The possibility that Aedrin Himself could influenced that special dream in some way was food for thought. She would likely never know, but if she ever met the great dragon, perhaps she might presume to ask Him.

When the mooncakes were brought forward, the Princess waited for the King to take his choice. Once the tray was offered to her, she selected one and thanked the girl with a gracious smile. She would really need to do a transformation tomorrow; else the fat and sugar would not burn itself off. She would be involved in a snowball fight inside an active volcano before she would need a dress taken out because of overeating. Reprehensible. Utterly unacceptable.

“Hail to Aedrin, whose gifts and strength nourish and empower us.
Hail to Nerix, whose loving light shines upon us in the darkened skies.
Be with us this evening in our hearts and in our dreams.
We honour You.”

She offered her own prayer before she lifted the cake up to her lips and gently blew out the candles. Akantha took a delicate bite of the cake, letting the flavours dance on her tongue. "Did you have a similar dream when you were my age?" she asked him, the silvery chains dangling from her pointed ears like rays of moonlight against her skin and blonde hair.

"There is no rose without a thorn."

[Hekatos]

His smile was serene, but she knew him well enough to know that there was a hint of playfulness to it. Ailuin himself had taught her that the perception of one's power was often more important than the fact of one's power. Perhaps that was why she had embraced the name her mother had given her—little thorn. But Dreamwalking was—for good reason—largely a lost art. The diamond dragonflight could induct a new dreamwalker at the will of Thiovan, but few were those deemed worthy of the dangerous curse/gift. Some enemies of Sol'Valen were surely deterred by the legends of Ailuin's abilities, and even some allies. The other princes might have pushed or pulled, pulling the kingdom apart by its seams, but nevertheless the Sol'Eilran line persisted and Silfanore remained the Crown City of the bounded empire of the Hytori.

They shared their mooncakes and his serene smile might have held a hint of melancholy. His mercurial, subtle cues were more legible to her, but he was not an open book.

"It is a feast for Aedrin," he reminded her softly, "and Nerix. Give your delight to Suion and, if you must, your suffering to Malgar." He, at least, was unperturbed by the sweet, buttery cake, but then his own rituals kept him trim.

But to her question, "I did. I had already begun my training as an oneironaut, but for all the burgeoning power, I was still a boy, untried, naïve. Like most boys, I thought myself practically a man. Like most men, I thought myself intelligent enough to understand fatherhood before I became a father. We all go through the phases of life, hopefully setting aside our hubris and gaining true wisdom.

"The greatest piece of wisdom that I learned that day, I will share with you: do not finish off the leftover mooncakes. Your stomach will not thank you."

Ailuin paused, nodded with all due sagacity and decorum, and then finished the last of his mooncake in one bite, sucking icing from his fingers as though he weren't the king of Sol'Valen and in public. Then he laughed, hand covering his mouth, and people nearby took notice. They took joy from his joy. Their Dream King was well loved in Silfanore.

[Akantha SolEilran]

The world survived on pretense. Akantha recognized the lessons here. Or perhaps part of them... when dealing with the Dream King, she had to recognize that he saw and heard much that no one else could, or would. And sometimes when communicating, things would not always be clear. Not at the present moment, but she had to try to keep it in her head for later so that when the time was right, and the realization hit, she would be prepared and able to understand what he had been conveying previously. There was so much to learn. She was fortunate in that she had the opportunities that she did to follow and learn at his side, to participate and ask questions later and check her own impulses against his decisions and reasoning.

Her father had been thrown into the deep end at a very young age, and he had come out of it the champion of his trials. She could only do her best to be as strong and resilient as he was. To be as feared and respected.

She did half-wonder if he just knew her well enough that he could imagine her thoughts with regards to the festival and all of its traditions, or if she was just that transparent. But she bowed her head to him and took another bite of her mooncake. "I would never," she reassured him, but the Princess could well-imagine her father as a boy helping himself to many mooncakes, and she wondered if Adamantos had helped him with the eating. He didn't need to worry about her in that regard, however: when it came to gluttony, her vice was not in food, but in attire and accessories.

It could be debated which was worse; especially since some whispered that the Princess of Thorns could single-handedly support the fashion industry in Silfanore... But the money went back into the community, careers were launched, industry encouraged and funded, not simply from the crown but from others who took interest when Akantha did. Things had a way of working out.

She was able to hide her delighted grin behind the confection at Ailuin's reaction, and there was only the faintest quiver in her shoulders to give away her mirth. But her eyes danced in the moonlight, at least, of the the moons that were there. One red, one white, and now the third... one black. She wondered what machinations had brought that into being, but she had a feeling that it had to do with the Winter of Shadows that had existed for nearly two years beyond the borders of Sol'Valen. Was it some strange tribute to Nerix, or some new power rising? She wanted to ask her father about it, but this was neither the time nor the place. Even at a festival for Nerix, especially at a festival. It wouldn't do to carelessly cause worry and concern amongst their citizens by voicing her own wonder about it.

The world survived on pretense, after all.

Akantha finished her cake, which was plenty, and cleaned her fingers off with her lips to get the last of the icing. There was no avoiding it here, but since he had... she could. She offered her own smiles to the citizens around them, as her eyes drew back to the procession, keenly focused on every little detail... a benefit from her first Totem.

"There is no rose without a thorn."

[Hekatos]

The Princess of Thorns and her father were noted and accorded all due respect, but when they came down among the people, they were treated as people. This wasn't a carnival where social norms were turned on their heads, a nod to Chaos, but there were times when even the lofty King must remember humility, remember that with the pomp and circumstance came the duty to serve his people. Assassination attempts were all but unheard of and, even so, there were guards among the throng, and neither royal elf was unable to defend themself.

With a light touch to her back and a gesture to the side of the peristyle, he led her to a more out of the way vantage, careful as always to move slowly to allow for the logistics of her couture. The people were careful too, always curious to see what their fashion bellwether would wear, whether traditional (which could mean so many things for a people so ancient) or avant-garde.

"Another moon in the sky," he noted quietly, "and the auguries offer no insight from Nerix. At least, nothing conclusive. But a new incarnation of Winter, and of the Stars. The Age of Steel has birthed several infant gods, it seems, and while Rebellion petered out, there seems to be no dearth of strange events in our lifetimes."

She needn't worry about eavesdroppers. Her father wore charms that could engage a ward of silence that would also make it impossible to read his lips from afar with a clever twist of illusion. She knew that he had sent his favorite away in order to do reconnaissance, and that an old friend of his had dropped out of time somewhere to the West.

In fact, Akantha knew quite a bit of her father's mind, even if it would always be ever so slightly alien due to how much time he spent in the Land of Nod. He valued her work, adding her fire to the creative milieu of the realm, making their artistic culture all the more robust. He also valued her training, preparing magically, mentally, and physically for whatever exigencies the betterment of their people might ask of her.

There could be only one monarch of Sol'Valen, but all its princes and princesses were meant to serve in their own ways.

"I believe I for got to ask at new year: have you any resolutions?"

[Akantha SolEilran]

His thoughtfulness was appreciated, as it gave Akantha the opportunity to activate the dragonshard in her bracelet to allow for her trailing gown to gently flutter off of the floor of the peristyle. Kinetics may have been flawless, but Akantha had received plenty of training on using dragonshards, and the effect was a smooth, gentle breeze that lifted the hems of the silvery-white gown. When they had taken their places at their new vantage point, the Hytori Princess relaxed the effect, laying her dress back out around her. Had this been another event, perhaps she would activate a Masquerade charm and change up the effects; but now was not the time. Besides, the designer who had made it was a favourite of hers, and she wasn't about to disrespect them. The overlay caught the lights around them without being gaudy, shimmering pearls and crystals and rings and beads, as did the spherical silver buttons that cascaded down the front.

Akantha listened to her sire's words, and once he opened the subject for them, she knew it was safe to speak of it in kind. That the auguries could offer nothing of these portents was troublesome, and her expression was pensive. These were new events indeed. "And nothing of the other seasons yet, just Frost," she was thoughtful. No demigods of Glade, Searing, or Ash. That was not unusual when there were no new fledgling divine beings, but now that one had come... "That upsets the balance, doesn't it?" While she doubted that the long winter of perpetual frost that was affecting the world was related to that, and the rise of Stars, she had no way of knowing for sure.

There was much going on of the world outside their Empire... she had to wonder what news Ailuin's favourite was discovering, but she trusted that she would learn in due time, either before he got back or when he did, if it was pertinent. As it was, she got to accompany the King to most meetings and she was learning plenty. Everyone had their role to play here, and neither was lesser or insignificant: it was for the betterment of their home, for their people, and what mattered was that their role was done to the absolute best of their abilities.

Which led right to his question. Her resolutions for the new year... "Each day is a blank page. It is up to us what we want to write in it, isn't it?" Akantha smiled at that. "I would like to work to advance my Animus enough that I might get myself to the position of asking Adamantos if I may use their scale as a Totem." Which was bold - while the scale had been a gift, the Princess admired Adamantos and loved them like a third parent. It was the respectful thing to do, to get that explicit permission - it may have been implied, considering when she had gotten it... but it was important for her to ask them first. She would still have the scale, which was a frequent accessory for her, depending on the outfit - featured in more than one style of fascinator, for example - but the ability to take on their shape...

"But in terms of broader resolutions, I would like to continue to feature new designers and artists. Their stitching is always welcome on our cultural tapestry. I have a few that I have my eye on," she admitted. "And I may send out a few invitations."

"There is no rose without a thorn."

[Hekatos]

Her father nodded thoughtfully, a faint smile lingering.

"They will appreciate the request, I am certain," he said. No matter their ability to take elven shape, to speak and act as elves, dragons were decidedly not elves and only those best able to act the part could remain undiscovered for long. Adamantos was his friend, and still he was careful not to tread on some unknown social more or another. "And I would like you to organize a small soiree for those designers you think best suited to design and construct new vestments for the statue of the Lord of Dreaming. There is no great rush, I think, but I would like to have him newly attired by midsummer."

This was not the first time he had asked her to arrange similar events. She knew he trusted her with details and to come to him for any decisions she didn't feel comfortable making without his input. He wanted all of his children to have leadership skills in case the yoke of the crown fell to their brow, and may Raella grant him enough time to ensure they knew both how to follow and how to lead. The last thing their bounded empire needed was infighting among the elves.

Ailuin hadn't forgotten their talk of gods, but took more time to decide how best to articulate his thoughts.

"Out of balance, yes," he agreed. "Spring has come, but no demigod of Spring. I do not know of a precedent for this, which might offer us insight. But if spring has come, then winter will not reign eternal. Perhaps it will all work out of itself without elven intervention. We have sent a warrior and a priest to investigate."

He glanced once more at the young dancers, at the mooncakes and candles, as if to acknowledge that life continued regardless of upstarts in Karnor.

[Akantha SolEilran]

No matter what Adamantos’ decision was on the matter, even if it was a denial, Akantha would respect it. If it was not to be, it was not to be… and she would find another that would consent to it. She wouldn’t give up on her plans and ambitions to accomplish such a feat, but she would accept their wishes in the matter. “Of course, Father. I would be delighted. Have you an idea as to your preference for the attire for the statue?” The Princess’s eyes brightened. She had names coming to mind already for it. Considering the subject, Akantha would consider something more traditional, with a creative flair. Fashion could say so many things, and dreams were not meant to be boring. Akantha had her own ideas, but she wanted to make sure Ailuin’s wishes were heard on the matter as well. She also knew her own impulses, and her own tastes towards the fantastic… and this was something that was going to have far more permanence than what she wore for a soirée.

A good leader didn’t just talk; they listened.

She nodded thoughtfully to his points. “Perhaps more will be revealed over the course of the next year or so. The balance of the elements, and the seasons, will surely take time to recover… and with it may well be the others.” Akantha was certainly religious, and she had received a thorough education when it came to their Pantheon… which didn’t particularly include these novel little demigods. Perhaps the older, more settled ones that had stuck around but were unable or unwilling to ascend to the next tier, but these young little divine beings? Especially those who were relatively unknown at this point. Winter and Stars had ascended recently; and there was only so much to find out. She had heard accounts of newborn demigods, which had been considerably interesting to her years ago… There was an idle wonder to what they were like, though the Princess would not waste her attention tonight pondering.

Tonight was for Aedrin and Nerix, two close to her own heart, just behind Thiovan.

“Do you miss him?” Akantha didn’t really need to specify just who she was talking about - she knew that her Father would know she was speaking of his favourite. But they all had their parts to play for the betterment of the kingdom, and while she may have missed Rhydian and Karrhei’s visits, it was important work all the same.

"There is no rose without a thorn."