Glade 1, 124
The year past had been different from those that came before in so many ways it was near to impossible for the young lord of Stardew Valley to think of them all as a single year. Many of the changes were good, many were bad enough that it was difficult to hold on to the hope that the way life had once been on for all people might ever return. Starvation and death, accompanied by the illnesses that always followed were rife everywhere but there were a few pockets where those in power cared enough for those without it that hope could hang on.
The Valley was one of those places. The people he had invited to live in his tiny domain had come to build better lives for themselves but quickly enough their focus had shifted, as Torin's own had, to producing enough that their work might allow others to live. With the help of Aurin Kavafis, Sivan Sunrunner, and the patronage of all the Leukos', the community had pulled together their labor of all kinds to bring in harvests more bountiful than any brand new farms had any right to. Their work had been rewarded not in gold, but in the looks of the faces of the poorest of Kalzasi as they were able to fill their bellies through the never-ending Frost.
The twins, Kala and Kaus, had returned from their journeys abroad with the quiet hope that when the season turned this time around, it might actually turn. There were no guarantees in the world anymore, but in this as in all else, Starfall gave hope a fighting chance.
Now, on the eve of that hope, the first day of the year, to thank everyone for their hard work and show his appreciation for their willingness to be in his life, Torin was doing what he'd done every year since he'd been free to do so, he was hosting a feast. The large tavern that he'd had built to server as meeting place for the community as well as, he hoped, someday, an actual inn and tavern, was being put to the test for the first time. The large kitchen had been bustling with the activity of the mothers and daughters of the farming families, as well as a his own elder apprentice, since dawn and the scents that flowed out any time the swinging doors were pushed through was enough to make any mouth water.
Several of the inhabitants were musicians and their instruments were already set up on the little raised platform he had imagined Finn and others like him occupying. Tables set up around the edges of the room had been decorated, mostly by the children, with the evergreen things that never died as well as with an abundance of flowers that Torin could only imagine had been Sivan's doing. Behind and around the bar were gathered the men of the community, some easy in their positions, others, young, were trying to grow into them. Torin understood, painfully, what wanting to be accepted as an adult felt like so he made sure to greet them all with equal respect as they tapped kegs and opened bottles to share freely.
His guests from elsewhere were due to arrive any time and there was nothing for the Lord of the Valley himself to really do so he took a moment to close his eyes and his magical senses and let his lesser human ones take over. The sound of dozens of voices of all ages filled his ears, from grandfatherly Bond imparting his wisdom all the way down to Aaryn and Jaseline, both around ten, chasing each other back and forth through the empty space set aside from dancing and even the quiet cry of baby Kefir, not yet a year old in his mother's arms. The women instructed and gossiped and laughed in the kitchen just as the men did the same at the bar. It was like the village he had grown up in except, now he did not dread such gatherings. Now, they felt like home.
His eyes, still closed, began to prick at the idea and he had to open them quickly, remind himself that the people all around him were real and that their Lord suddenly beginning to cry would not be either inspiring nor appropriate to a celebration. As though seemingly to realize he was looking for a distraction, Brodaric, a man of about fifty who had been head-man of his village before it had been destroyed called him over, pulling him into the conversation in his easy, charismatic way.
Torin accepted the mug of ale that was offered when he walked over and let himself be accepted into the conversation, though he listened more than contributed. It was an interesting position to be in, young enough that he didn't have very much useful to add to the conversation and thus belonged in the group of young men, most unmarried as he was, yet he was also the Lord and therefore was treated mostly with the respect that was granted the older men by the younger and each other. It wasn't a bad thing, he thought, being respected but still expected to need help and advice sometimes.
The first dishes began to be paraded, steaming from the kitchen and he turned to watch, keeping one eye on the wide doors for the faces of those he loved and respected most.
The year past had been different from those that came before in so many ways it was near to impossible for the young lord of Stardew Valley to think of them all as a single year. Many of the changes were good, many were bad enough that it was difficult to hold on to the hope that the way life had once been on for all people might ever return. Starvation and death, accompanied by the illnesses that always followed were rife everywhere but there were a few pockets where those in power cared enough for those without it that hope could hang on.
The Valley was one of those places. The people he had invited to live in his tiny domain had come to build better lives for themselves but quickly enough their focus had shifted, as Torin's own had, to producing enough that their work might allow others to live. With the help of Aurin Kavafis, Sivan Sunrunner, and the patronage of all the Leukos', the community had pulled together their labor of all kinds to bring in harvests more bountiful than any brand new farms had any right to. Their work had been rewarded not in gold, but in the looks of the faces of the poorest of Kalzasi as they were able to fill their bellies through the never-ending Frost.
The twins, Kala and Kaus, had returned from their journeys abroad with the quiet hope that when the season turned this time around, it might actually turn. There were no guarantees in the world anymore, but in this as in all else, Starfall gave hope a fighting chance.
Now, on the eve of that hope, the first day of the year, to thank everyone for their hard work and show his appreciation for their willingness to be in his life, Torin was doing what he'd done every year since he'd been free to do so, he was hosting a feast. The large tavern that he'd had built to server as meeting place for the community as well as, he hoped, someday, an actual inn and tavern, was being put to the test for the first time. The large kitchen had been bustling with the activity of the mothers and daughters of the farming families, as well as a his own elder apprentice, since dawn and the scents that flowed out any time the swinging doors were pushed through was enough to make any mouth water.
Several of the inhabitants were musicians and their instruments were already set up on the little raised platform he had imagined Finn and others like him occupying. Tables set up around the edges of the room had been decorated, mostly by the children, with the evergreen things that never died as well as with an abundance of flowers that Torin could only imagine had been Sivan's doing. Behind and around the bar were gathered the men of the community, some easy in their positions, others, young, were trying to grow into them. Torin understood, painfully, what wanting to be accepted as an adult felt like so he made sure to greet them all with equal respect as they tapped kegs and opened bottles to share freely.
His guests from elsewhere were due to arrive any time and there was nothing for the Lord of the Valley himself to really do so he took a moment to close his eyes and his magical senses and let his lesser human ones take over. The sound of dozens of voices of all ages filled his ears, from grandfatherly Bond imparting his wisdom all the way down to Aaryn and Jaseline, both around ten, chasing each other back and forth through the empty space set aside from dancing and even the quiet cry of baby Kefir, not yet a year old in his mother's arms. The women instructed and gossiped and laughed in the kitchen just as the men did the same at the bar. It was like the village he had grown up in except, now he did not dread such gatherings. Now, they felt like home.
His eyes, still closed, began to prick at the idea and he had to open them quickly, remind himself that the people all around him were real and that their Lord suddenly beginning to cry would not be either inspiring nor appropriate to a celebration. As though seemingly to realize he was looking for a distraction, Brodaric, a man of about fifty who had been head-man of his village before it had been destroyed called him over, pulling him into the conversation in his easy, charismatic way.
Torin accepted the mug of ale that was offered when he walked over and let himself be accepted into the conversation, though he listened more than contributed. It was an interesting position to be in, young enough that he didn't have very much useful to add to the conversation and thus belonged in the group of young men, most unmarried as he was, yet he was also the Lord and therefore was treated mostly with the respect that was granted the older men by the younger and each other. It wasn't a bad thing, he thought, being respected but still expected to need help and advice sometimes.
The first dishes began to be paraded, steaming from the kitchen and he turned to watch, keeping one eye on the wide doors for the faces of those he loved and respected most.
