ANYTHING BUT PLAIN SIGHT
Ash 91, 121
The Pfenning Theater was a theater of tradition, and one such tradition was the Nutcracker ballet that took place in the final days of Ash, to welcome in the Winter season and the cold that followed. From the props, one would think it belonged more in the Winter, and Carina agreed — regardless, her part was not a large one. She was not the best dancer of the ballet, nor even the best dancer in the corps de ballet, but she loved to dance. With half of her season taken up by her trip to Kalzasi, she now had to spend much of her week — and weekends — practicing, both with the rest of the dancers and by herself. She had to keep up, and her time in Zaichaer was almost always spent dancing. Too much time was spent in Kalzasi, and she blamed that for her lack of recent improvement.
She had frequently danced in the Nutcracker, ever since she had been only a student at the academy. The Zaichaeri production had roles for children, and she had auditioned every year she had attended. It was not until she was 13 that she had been granted a small part. It was a fast-paced ballet, with little time for costume changes that were nonetheless necessary, but Carina thrived in the quickness of it all.
The orchestra began, and the heavy velvet curtains brushed across the stage. Carina did not dance in the beginning, but she flitted on and off the stage as the minutes turned to an hour, and then an hour and a half. She did not dance the entire time, only in her reserved little parts, and she was not an exceptional dancer. The Zaichaer Symphony Orchestra played beautifully, and the principal dancers danced as if they were not afflicted by gravity. Intermission came, and went, and then the ballet resumed, and for Carina, it was much of the same, year after year, performance after performance.
After the dance, and the hecticness of it, Carina had changed into something presentable for Zaichaeri society, exhausted and sore and satisfied all at once. She slipped out of the stage doors and into the lobby, mingling for just a few moments. It would be easier to catch a cab back to her apartment if she waited for the general crowd to leave. Some people stood by for autographs from the principal dancers, but no one deigned to bother or notice Carina.
The Pfenning Theater was a theater of tradition, and one such tradition was the Nutcracker ballet that took place in the final days of Ash, to welcome in the Winter season and the cold that followed. From the props, one would think it belonged more in the Winter, and Carina agreed — regardless, her part was not a large one. She was not the best dancer of the ballet, nor even the best dancer in the corps de ballet, but she loved to dance. With half of her season taken up by her trip to Kalzasi, she now had to spend much of her week — and weekends — practicing, both with the rest of the dancers and by herself. She had to keep up, and her time in Zaichaer was almost always spent dancing. Too much time was spent in Kalzasi, and she blamed that for her lack of recent improvement.
She had frequently danced in the Nutcracker, ever since she had been only a student at the academy. The Zaichaeri production had roles for children, and she had auditioned every year she had attended. It was not until she was 13 that she had been granted a small part. It was a fast-paced ballet, with little time for costume changes that were nonetheless necessary, but Carina thrived in the quickness of it all.
The orchestra began, and the heavy velvet curtains brushed across the stage. Carina did not dance in the beginning, but she flitted on and off the stage as the minutes turned to an hour, and then an hour and a half. She did not dance the entire time, only in her reserved little parts, and she was not an exceptional dancer. The Zaichaer Symphony Orchestra played beautifully, and the principal dancers danced as if they were not afflicted by gravity. Intermission came, and went, and then the ballet resumed, and for Carina, it was much of the same, year after year, performance after performance.
After the dance, and the hecticness of it, Carina had changed into something presentable for Zaichaeri society, exhausted and sore and satisfied all at once. She slipped out of the stage doors and into the lobby, mingling for just a few moments. It would be easier to catch a cab back to her apartment if she waited for the general crowd to leave. Some people stood by for autographs from the principal dancers, but no one deigned to bother or notice Carina.
