Iliane Borough

Female || 22 || Daughter of Asohr (Moon) || Thynyc || M: Opal

She was slowly starting to lose her sanity with her father.

Typically, he was distant and only appeared when she did something impressive and wanted to make her do it again. It almost always concerned her abilities, which was irritating, considering she couldn’t really control either of her abilities, and only her emotions unleashed it. It may have been slightly helpful that she was a generally emotional person and her heart was worn on her sleeve. Her father was the wonderful Asohr, the one who was represented by the moon. It gave her the opportunity to control darkness, fog, and cause others to fall asleep at will. Her father had a more open relationship with her, and she could call on him to communicate, but usually he was too lazy to respond. It didn’t bother her. It just gave her more cause to know not to rely on either of her parents.

But she couldn’t actually do either at will. It was more of a “I’m in an argument with you and if you make me too irritated you might hit the ground and fall asleep as will everyone around us.” She really disliked her abilities. Her father would make suggestions like, “Try channelling your inner emotions,” like how a therapist would attempt to soothe the soul. Today was a bit different, though. This time he suggested she go to the Festival and surround herself with the celebration to get a feel of the emotions around her and align them with her own to control her abilities. And then he had left to wherever the gods go when they’re done with mortals.

She had been preparing for the Festival to meet up with her childhood friend, Opal, but if her father wants it why would she not go? Iliane truly didn’t want to go if her father suggested it but for her friend, she would. Neither of her parents were very good, and both used at least one of their children for their own benefit. Iliane didn’t necessarily need to go to the Festival to “channel her abilities.” Technically she could control her darkness abilities to the extent that, if she focuses enough, she can fog up the room with light shadows, the victim’s not being able to see up to two feet in front of them, but then again, it usually took a lot of mental energy, and a lot of time for her to find the focus.

Iliane was putting one foot in front of the other in a lazy gait, swaying from side to side as if she was about to fall asleep at any moment. Her features were full of arrogance and confidence, though, as she lazily glanced from side to side with a narrow gaze. Her attire was basic and built for fighting, simple. It was a flexible material, something she could run in, but also something she could probably spill flour on and it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to clean out by hand. Baking, her truly beloved skillset. She could cook all day if she wanted, but she was also skilled in fighting, something that brought her adrenaline up and wasn’t mentally challenging.

Reminding her, Iliane should have made a little pastry gift for Opal. Opal was a bit different than Iliane. The two were both good friends, but Opal was the more feminine figure of the two. There was a point in Iliane’s life where she saw Opal as a love interest, but Opal was the type to marry a man and have children. Iliane eventually moved on, but it’s a sore subject that she lost Opal’s hand without getting to confess. Now, Iliane helps teach Opal to do some baking and cooking, but fighting is a bit of a stretch for her friend. She probably prefers to not get her hands dirty participating in the violent act.

The people at the Festival were decorated and dreary, poor, middle class, and wealthier families all bunching throughout the festival grounds. The sky was full of excitement. It was spring, not quite time for the midday meal, but also not quite time for people to still be tired and drowsy from sleep. She felt a small smile start prodding at her features, the atmosphere of cheeriness being infectious. The food and wares being sold was catching her eye. The pastries and delicacies drove a derisive snort from her. It was quite pricey for something she could possibly make better. How pathetic. That was far too expensive for an egg custard, and was that family actually going to buy five custards?

Maybe she should have purchased the temporary land for a stand to sell her own sweets and delicacies.

No, no, she was getting distracted. Opal. She was here to see Opal and enjoy the festivities with her close friend, that was what she was supposed to be doing, not judging the hard work of the bakers and cooks. No matter how horrid the pricing was. After all, during the Festival, everything was a little bit more extra than usual.

But the custards were starting to grow on her as she continued staring. One of the bakers must have noticed, letting out a slight chuckle and waving a hand to show the little confections. She hesitantly offered up the currency, which the baker took without any hesitation, despite Iliane’s. She chose one of the more golden and fresh egg custards, taking a bite as the crowd swept her away in a direction she hoped Opal was towards, and not away from.

She had been wrong. The custards were delicious. Maybe looks could be deceiving, she mused, as she continued eating the egg custard. Then she heard Opal’s voice. It was a nice little thing that rang through your ears, but managed to sound polite and precise as it vanished. She snapped her head to the side, having no idea where it came from, and promptly started walking in a random direction she assumed was right. What was the worst thing that could happen?

Music was starting to play. Music that was more musical than that of the Festival’s tunes. It was a soothing sort of sound, and she wandered towards that direction. A traveler was playing, the crowd around her dancing to the beat. Iliane watched for a moment before glancing around for Opal again. This time, she finally found her. Opal looked the same as always, perfect and sharp. Iliane grinned and made her way to her friend. That hadn’t been as horrible as she had thought it would be.

“Opal!”

She stood next to her friend, the smile slipping off her face and resulting in a narrowed grumble. She hated seeing that Opal was taller, even if for only an inch, she was still the taller of the pair. “How are you?”

Kason Meruem Akeru

Male | Gay(Ambi) | 25 | Son of Ianthe | Kraegiosian | Mentions; Suna(Dir/Ind), Persilia(Ind), Open.

Presently, Kason was being dragged out of their tent by his younger sister so they could go to the festival together. She was nervous, Kason could tell, even if she didn’t outright say anything. It was obvious in the way that she was frantically moving around and trying to get them to leave before they were even ready.

--

Kason huffed a laugh and dug his heels into the ground, trying to stop them both. And despite his heritage, it did nothing to stop the strong young lady. Suna turned to him though about to speak, probably to tell them to hurry up or they’d be late but Kason beat her to it.

--

“Suna. We aren’t ready. You literally forgot Li-qin, your bandages, and we’re both still in our sleepwear.” His voice was firm, but held a slight amusement to it that had Suna smiling with a faint red blush to her cheeks that showed off her embarrassment.

--

“Fine, fine. I’m sure no one would truly notice the sleepwear, but you are right about Li-qin. I can’t forget my best friend. Are you bringing Kanata?”

--

Suna was already back inside, which was good. He thought for a moment before answering, “No. I don’t want to steal your spotlight. I’m sure that after today, you’re going to be seen as the best musician in the entire world.”

--

Suna paused for a split second before resuming, he didn’t miss it though. After a few seconds herself, she spoke. “Maybe… Not the best musician, maybe just the best pipa player? I don’t know if I could really be seen as the best musician, since it’s entirely based on opinion for which instrument people like most. And I’m definitely not going to decide whether the pipa or the flute is better.”

--

Kason shrugged, “Oh please, the pipa’s one of the most difficult instruments to learn and here you are- 19 years old and better than some of the oldest players. If not better than all of them.”

--

Suna gave a small laugh and punched him in the arm playfully, “Stop that, Kas! You’re gonna give me your god complex!”

--

And that’s how the two of them ended up laughing in the middle of their tent. After a minute or so of this though, Suna stopped herself from continuing and looked at Kason, smirk on her full lips with ease. “Alright, let’s actually get ready for this thing now.”

--

Kason nodded, “Yeah. I bet it’s gonna be great, sis. You’re going to blow their minds with your sound so hard that even Ydur would be jealous.”

--

Suna’s smirk softened into a smaller smile, “Only because you’re coming. Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t. This’ll be my first time playing music for people outside of Kraegiosians… What if they don’t like it?”

--

Kason sighed, and put her hands onto Suna’s shoulders. “Sis, they’d have to either have no taste in good music or have, like, a vendetta against us for some reason not to like it. You’re gonna be great, I already know.”

--

Suna looked up to him, not really having to do so too much given that he was only a few inches taller than she was, and then hugged him. “You’re right,” She said after a few minutes, pulling away. “I shouldn’t be letting this get to me, I’m going to be great.” She paused and then grinned, “Now let’s actually get ready!”

--

Kason smiled fondly and nodded, the both of them turning and doing whatever it was they had to do at the moment. Which was to get dressed, grab what they needed, and he was pretty sure that Suna was wanting to fix her hair and makeup for once. She was a natural beauty without it, in his oh so humble opinion, but she really did just want to make an impression.

--

After a bit though, they were ready to go. Suna was wearing a new robe, white linen with purple accents and purple tie. Her wavy-curly black hair flowing freely down her body, her light brown skin riddled with freckles that made her roman nose just that much more perfect. Truly though, what was sure to catch eyes were the earrings shaped like eighth notes that she wore and the light blue eyeshadow that framed her brown eyes with an innocence that spoke of youth. The shadow had a sparkle too, so it made it even more youthful and eye-catching. The little white flowers that the two had picked up from the plains to make her a small flower crown was sitting atop her head nicely.

--

But the best part? Her right hand had nails while her left didn’t though both had bandages wrapped around the finger, two things that people would only notice when she started playing, no doubt. After all, one thing that separated her from most other pipa players was that while they had moved on to using a large plectrum to pluck the instrument- She had stuck with the traditional technique of plucking with one’s real nails.

--

His own outfit was the one he always wore, the robe with nice embroidery of shalimar stars and gold suns. It was on the back, at the ends of his sleeves, and at the bottom near his feet. He didn’t really need all the fancy things though, he was just going for Suna, after all. His hair was up in a loose low bun to where it could be seen as a simple ponytail. He smiled at her though and she grinned, grabbing her pipa; Li-qin, delicately.

--

Li-qin had four strings and 31 frets, the pear shaped body being made out of hollowed teak wood from the plains. Six of the frets are on the short neck of the instrument, made of a soft stone, while the other twenty five on the body are made out of bamboo strips. The four tuning legs for the strings are also made of a soft stone, and are mounted to the arched, back-bending pegbox. Another thing that separated Suna from most musicians, she didn’t decorate her instrument, she kept it exactly as it was made to be and kept it in prime condition to the best of her ability.

--

And now that Suna had Li-qin, they were ready to go. So they left their tent and started on their way to the festival. They wouldn’t be doing it all by foot, luckily, as they had gotten some other people from the closest community to agree to take them.

--

When they arrived, the festival seemed to be bustling already. Music was in the air and people were having the time of their lives. The music they heard first, as trained musicians, was that of a lute. Was that of a talented musician’s lute. Suna seemed nervous but it quickly steeled and Kason followed her as she made her way through the crowds. A few people looked their way, but most simply continued with whatever they were doing.

--

Eventually, they reached the part of the crowd that was thickest and closest to the music. Since they were both tall though, they had no trouble seeing who it was that was playing such music. A girl with pale olive skin, wearing a white wool tunic with an eloquent dark blue bodice with silver lacing and white details and black leggings with dark brown boots and a lady hat that was dark blue with a silver band and black feathers that sat upon onyx colored hair and silvery necklace with tons of gems and tons of bracelets and plenty of small silver cased, jewel earrings. And though Kason didn’t react, he could see Suna’s face gaining color. Suna had always had a thing for women with jewelry, just like he had always had a thing for men with jewelry. Maybe it ran in the family…

--

Oh well, Kason should probably get Suna to a place to play before the apparently beautiful woman was all that Suna could think about. So, he grabbed his younger sister’s arm and pulled her off somewhere still relatively close but far enough away to where Suna would be able to play without having to worry too much about everything else.

--

Suna bit her lip nervously and looked around before looking at him. “Kas, I… She’s good. Really good. She’s not from Kraegios, I would’ve heard of her but… Kas, she’s good. She’s got everyone wrapped around her finger like it’s nothing, if I try to play… I don’t know. I may get wrapped into it and drowned out…”

--

Kason rolled his eyes, even though she was telling the truth she was forgetting a very simple thing about her. “Come on, Suna. You’ve told me before that you don’t listen to your surroundings when playing. I’ve heard you play in crowds of people before, you don't play like other musicians who listen to the beat around them to play- You play by yourself and force your surroundings into listening to you.”

--

Suna stared at the ground, “I know… But she’s good, Kas, and I’m not sure if I can drown her out enough to do that.”

--

Kason raised an eyebrow with an amused smirk on his face, “Oh please, if you can drown me out every time I tell you to do something while not playing music then you can drown out some good playing.”

--

Suna still looked nervous but she cracked a smile and nodded, slowly sitting down with Li-qin and plucking a few times, warming up. Kason smiled and sat next to her. The pipa didn’t sound like most other string instruments, and the way it was made it could even sound like a cymbal or drum at times. You’d twist the strings and suddenly the cymbal sound would come or you’d rap the wood with the bottom of your palm and suddenly the drum sound would come. And as Suna warmed up, one could really hear how much she used all of the techniques she’d taught herself over the years.

--

He sat and he listened, and it wasn’t only because of how many times he’d heard her play before that he knew she was done warming up… But because she never paused in between it, she just made the switch so distinct every time that any passerby would’ve noticed. Because she rapped her lower palm against the wood thrice while twisting one string and plucking one other. The way she always started, the way she always drowned out everyone else for her ears to work how she had always worked them.

--

And despite the music that still flowed from the other girl, Kason could see Suna's features relax in the way they only ever did whenever she could only hear herself and her instrument. She played, and it was such a suddenly different tone and story being played from the other girl’s that Kason couldn’t understand why Suna had ever worried. Because while the other girl played something cheerful and vibrant, Suna played something deep and colorful and the kind of slow sound that sounds fast until it suddenly sounds slow before suddenly sounding fast again. Her hands shook with different techniques as she played.

--

Suna had never played something twice, because she never played from memory. She played with no clue what she was trying to do but trusting herself to play the right thing. And despite how other musician’s couldn’t find a way to twist into the other girl’s music, Suna wasn’t trying to twist into it.

--

She was simply playing, and she was playing not based off of her surroundings at all. And it was such a contrast from everyone else, that to drown it out would be near impossible, if not completely impossible. It was such a contrast, such a way of playing, that it demanded attention. And it was such a contrast, that finding a way to twist into it would be near impossible as well, because she wasn’t trying to twist into a song, but to tell a story so new and strange that no one could tell how it would end or continue or even start. It was what had truly caused her to become Kraegios’s prized musician over the years.

--

And because Kason knew these things, he wasn’t surprised as people began to simply listen to what she was playing. Not dance, but stand and stare and listen. Some tried to hum along, some tried to dance, but the rhythm was so different that no one could figure out what came next but Suna. And that made it all the more enticing to people. And Kason smiled, leaning against the pillar from his place next to Suna on the ground, simply enjoying how fast his younger sister was gaining onlookers.

Kiran Rhysomaira Umlilo

Female | 23 years | Daughter of Kanyr | Thynyc | Mentions: Indirectly: Opal, Iliane, Perisilia

Kiran Rhysomaira Umlilo stood off to the side as her mother bustled around urging servants to greater speed, overseeing where they were putting chairs, and what food was being prepared for their next meal. When her mother was this passionate about organization and bossing others, it was best to stay out of sight and out of the way. As she wasn't allowed to leave this tent, which wasn't very huge, she had nowhere significant to hide.

Her mother barked at her to not be lazy, get moving, and help the servants. The Umlilos already had their private sleeping tent set up away from the festival grounds where they would have privacy, but her mother also wanted their own tent closer to the festival grounds, so they would have somewhere to rest during the day. Her highness, Blaizura, was displaying the consequences in her build of being well fed, and not a lot of exericise, as she was a wide rotund woman. She wore a tan dress that went down to her knees and wide loose tan pants with orange and yellow geometric patterns on the sleeves, neck, and hem. Her leather slippers were off to the side where she didn't need them. She had no serious plans for leaving the comfort and security of her tent.

Recently, she had had a visitation from Kanyr. He always seemed so jovial and easy going, which was very different from her mother's personality. He never stayed around long enough for her to meet his hot headed short tempered side. She wasn't sure how to feel about having a god as a father. Her mother made her miserable always pushing her to be better, certain that Kiran hadn't reached her full potential yet. Constantly trying to measure up to some unattainable invisible bar was exhausting, and she was surprised she hadn't given up yet. While she always told herself that it wouldn't happen she continued to strive for it in her everyday life. She knew it made her stronger.

Normally, her father came to check in on her during more significant years, and see if she had any supernatural powers that he might need to help train her to deal with. It surprised her that this seemingly indifferent father cared enough to try to prevent her from blowing up or dying. It also confused her that he had ever been attracted to her overweight mother. Had he been impulsive wanting to play around with these humans? What about her mother had made it a good idea?

This time instead of her father staying around for a social visit, he was much more serious without a mask of playfulness hiding his feelings. He told her that he needed her to eliminate all the other demi-gods. She was not given a reason why. Even if he had, she wasn't sure if she would trust him. She had been looking out, trying to figure out the reasoning ever since. Did she want to be as destructive as Erteus? Wasn't she supposed to be like fertile Megaera? What would she choose?

Her thoughts were interupted by her persistant mother's voice, "My darling dear," she smiled a very wide fleshy grin at her daughter, "I have an exciting excellent proposition. This year the festival can be extended to a week. The first few days is everyone getting set up. On the third day we'll let the best artisians and artists audition before us. The first round of auditions can be held by each of the three countries' rulers, and then those who pass through that can go on to the last audition before the hosts of the festival, and we'll get to choose who gets to display their talent and win lots of fame and glory for themselves, their family, their god, and their country. Kiran nodded her head the round golden beads at the end of her hair clicking and clacking as they jangled against each other, acknowledging her mother's words, but not sure if it could be pulled off on such short notice. She wore golden beads as they were easier to deal with than a crown.

"Is there going to be an actual prize?" she cute off the rest of the bit she was thinking, besides bragging rights and five minutes of fame? At first she was only considering the logistics of getting it all to work together and other practical matters, when she realized this could be the way to find all of the demi-gods. She was sure they would all have special talents. Something that they were so much better than everyone else, and they wanted to show everyone what they were capable of. It was a little sad to Kiran that her main abilities were eating competitions and acting. While she was an excellent swordswoman, she had a feeling others were as good or better. On the other hand, she wondered what would happen if the demi-gods worked together to take down their parents. Was that even possible?

"International tour?" Blaizura suggested without any thought. "I suppose money is always something. Perhaps we could make it a gamble. If you lose, the instruments and tools you used to enter are forfeit to the winner. I thought of something else. There will be different categories, and as people get eliminated, people across categories will compete against each other. We'll also need a panel of judges. Daughter of mine, I think you would make a good judge. You won't be able to enter, but you are a princess, you don't need anymore fame and you have resources."

Kiran would never voice it aloud, but if she were allowed to compete, she would be able to prove that she was more than a spoiled princess. No one knew what she was capable of other than reciting a lot of facts asnd knowledge that she had learned. She felt her mother gazing over her appearance, making sure nothing was out of place. She wore black pants underneath her outfit. While they weren't skin tight, they weren't loose and flowy like her mother's clothing. She wore a fitting top which was long sleeved due to the climate of their homeland. The main color of her outfit was a bright orangey red, accented with solid bands of black and floral embroidery done in gold. She had four thigh length pieces of fabrics. Two on the sides one on the front and the back. The front and the back was a tough leather material, which would be protective for dull weapons, while the side lengths were the bright orange red material. She had a thick golden necklace that was like a thick collar around her neck and black leather boots. Inside the tent in a safe place lay her sword in its decorative sheath. This outfit was more ornamental than her usual tunic or poncho and pants befitting a princess and demonstrating a portion of their wealth, but it still afforded her the ability to move around fluidly unhampered. She wore thick golden bracelets on her wrists and had earrings in her ears. When her mother gave her a sharp nod, she was relieved to have passed muster without any comments or expressive facial expressions.

"Why don't you make sure that we don't need any peacekeepers? If everything is going well for our festival, I'll make an announcement." In reality, she was getting rid of Kiran so she could talk to the rulers of Pahtha and Kraegios in private without their young children listening in on their conversation. Kiran had various weapos stowed on her person, which she could easily slip out to surprise someone. She was far from defenseless. Her mother insisted as long as her daughter wasn't going undercover and wearing average clothing, she would have to have guards accompany her around, which was one of the biggest giveaways that she was around. Quietly, she slipped away as her mother found someone else to fuss at and distract her for a split second. It was easy to slip into the crowd and blend in. She was relieved to see that most of the guards that were watching over her now were disguised to look like normal Thynycans instead of guards. It would help her to maintain her anonymity much more easier.

When she went to go investiage the festival, she didn't change her clothing to something more inconspicuous. Instead, she adjusted her posture. Normally, she stood at the full height of her 5' 11" self, however, now that she didn't want to attract attention, she kept her gaze more focused on the ground. Her regal posture expecting people to move which could possibly be described as arrogant was one of the main things that caused people to move out of her way or to recognize her.

Free from her mother's grasping critical clutches, she took a deep breath and close her eyes for a split second. There were some delicious smells rising on the breeze, however, she wasn't finding the seafood appealing. Her love of food brought her toward the food stands. She looked through what was being offered trying to decide what would be the most worth it. She noticed two Thynycan females nearby meeting up, and she felt a little envious that they had someone to hang out with, while she had to wander around without a companion. Even if she were to have one, she wouldn't trust them, because she would assume everything they said was meant to flatter and get something out of her. After buying a steaming hot roll, she forced herself to ignore any of the other stalls. She could easily eat them all, but she didn't want her mother complaining, and it would take time. By the time she got finished with the festival grounds her mother could be bankrupt and finished negotiating the possibility of a competition for this week.

Next her fingers began to thump on something solid, as music wafted across her ears. The rhythym was thumping in her heart, causing her to want to move and sway to the beat. Perhaps if she had enough time to relax and let loose, she would dance to this song. It was spirited and upbeat, which was her preference. Swaying to a slow song by yourself was a little awkward, and it was easier to be self conscious. Kiran was surprised as other musician's crowds were drawn toward this player. Soon even some of the musicians were listening raptly. She became a little irked when another musician set up town very nearby. It was quite rude, and she should have put some distance in between them. Knowing that even though her family was the host of this festival, she couldn't go around threatening musicians simply because they weren't being courteous to others. She predicted that it would cause a international problem. Would she be able to contain herself and not reprimand the other musician? She waited impatiently curious to see who this musician was.

The event from early the morning before crossed Valen's mind fondly. He'd had to pack rather quickly, lunch included, but the excitement that filled his body and made his legs shake was worth it. Throwing some boiled tubers and dried fish in a basket along with a change of clothes, a few healing salves, the money and his book about plants, he'd rushed out the door without a second thought. Thinking back to his rushing exit, he'd felt bad about leaving his father so quickly- what if he missed him? Or what if mother came back that night, and he wasn't-

To celebrate the big event, he'd put on his best tunic- a light blue one with faint flower prints, and embroidery. His mother had taught him the delicate stitching, and despite it's mediocracy, it looked very simple, but beautiful. Darker blue flowers lined the edges, with paler blue flowers only just visible across the full fabric. Underneath, he'd worn a simple off-white undershirt (pure white was extremely hard to get, only nobles had that-), and dark, faded green pants. He wasn't sure how warm or cold it'd be, so he had dressed for both.

Of course, he had his silver heart earring on his left earring, and golden heart locket, he'd made sure to polish them both that morning. Both were gifts from his mother, and he saw them as sentimental good luck charms.

He'd also taken along his favorite leather boots, the soft, old leather fit to hit feet perfectly from caring for them, and everyday wear. They looked a little sad, probably needed new ones- but his parents already saved enough to send him to his dream, he could work to buy his own shoes!

Brushing his soft, curly pale brown hair off of his left green eye so he could see better, he sat back in the wagon.

He looked out across the hills- he'd caught a ride with farmers and mail carriers to get this far, and he was almost there finally.

"We're alm'ust thar, jist a bit ahead now sonny." The old farmer he'd caught a ride with spoke up.

"Really?? Ahh, I'm so excited! This is the farthest I've ever been from home, I'm not sure what to expect-"

He was cut off by jovial laughter coming from the front seat of the wagon.

"Yeh told me as much this mornin'! Yeh talk a lot, didjer ma ever tell ye that?" Embarrassment turned Val's face red.

"Er- no, heh. Sorry, I'm just-"

"So excited, ah know, ah know. Now lookit theh road ahead, or yer gon' miss tha big reveal!"

"Big reveal..?" Val leaned forward in the wagon, and his breath caught in his throat.

.

.

Trilough was beautiful!

Decorations for the festival crossed over every street, filling every corner with colors. Delicious smells wafted through the air, making Val's stomach growl and remind him he'd eaten everything he'd packed last night and early this morning- and the sounds of chattering, happy people and bards playing upbeat and playful tunes danced through his ears.

Swiping his hair out of his face, and trying to look everywhere at once, he quickly bade the kind farmer well, before dashing into the crowd to explore.

Here was weird fried meat on a stick- there were decorated masks! Over this way were the most beautiful fabrics and beads he'd ever seen shimmering and flowing under the small breeze that blew through his hair, and there was a stand selling more kinds of fruits than he'd ever seen in his life!!

.

Deciding to grab a snack, he stopped by one of the fruit stalls.

"Excuse me- what are those?" The salesman gave him a surprised look, before smiling happily at his newest customer.

"That's a mango! They're fairly sweet, or sour depending on when they're eaten. See, these reddish ones'll be sweet, juicy things, and these green ones are less ripe and sour, if you prefer that."

Gazing at the round fruits in wonder, Val was sold. His heterochromatic brown and green eyes sparkled with wonder as he gazed at the odd fruit.

"How much for two?? I want to try both!"

"For you? Well, they grow quite far away- in extremely dangerous and warm places called jungles. But since you're so taken with 'em, I'll take a silver apiece."

Missing the glint in the salesman's eye, he quickly dug into his money pouch, handing over the coins.

"Thank you very much, young sir!" The salesman smiled, taking the coins and stashing them deep into his pockets, before handing Val two mangoes. "Just remember to peel them, the skin'll give your throat the itches!"

"Yes sir, thank you!"

.

Peeling the skin off with his fingernails (Not very sanitary, but he didn't like knives, so-), he wandered about as he savored the new sweet and sour taste.

As he wandered, a strain of music caught his ear. It was absolutely beautiful, but hard to hear over the other musicians- straining to hear it better, he picked his way through the crowd to find the source of the sweet melody. His breath was taken away when he saw the music player finally- not because she was beautiful, no, though he couldn't deny that- it was because of the way she played. What had started as a mysterious tune filled with ethereal beauty, had picked up into a faster tune that made his feet want to pick up the tune and dance.

Looking around nervously, he quieted his inspiration. There were so many people here, he couldn't dance here! If only there were less people, Val was positive he'd forget the tune as soon as she stopped playing, and he'd never get another chance to dance.

"Don't just stand there," A voice pulled him from his worries.

"Move those feet!" For a split second, he was shocked into thinking she was speaking to him, before people all around began dancing to the beat as well. In his entranced state, he'd failed to notice the huge crowd gathering.

.

He was quickly caught up in the crowd as they began dancing around in circles, cheering and prancing to the beautiful upbeat music. Stumbling and tripping about, Val tried to find his way out of his current predicament. He was going to get stomped, or worse! have to dance here! He couldn't tell which was more embarrassing, but before he could decide a particularly excited group danced practically over him- and his remaining mango went flying. He was sent tumbling to the ground, thankfully away from the crowd, as his feet lost their purchase and he landed on his rear.

.

Thankfully, it seemed as though another musician had begun playing- a much slower, less get-up-and-dance tune. Getting up and wiping off his hands, he tried to calm himself- he just fell, this wasn't the end of the world.

He looked around for a minute, seeing if he could spot his long lost snack, but saw nothing. Frustrated, he made sure his basket full of his personal items was secure, and touching his necklace and earring to be positive they were indeed still on him, he wandered over to a nearby bench, sitting down with a huff.

He checked his hands- looks like they were a little scraped, maybe a bruise or two, but nothing rinsing under clean water and some rest wouldn't fix.

His tunic had gotten a bit of dirt on it, and his boots had a footprint on one of them, but again, nothing water shouldn't fix. He was upset yes, but used to it from past tumbles into the deep muds of Pahtha.

He'd have to get more food soon, it seemed- and likely find some lodging before he tried seeking out local apothecaries or healers to study under. For now though, he was content to rest first. Years of laziness hadn't done anything for his stamina, and getting yanked around in a new town was very tiring.

.

Persilia Dycoris

Feminine || 22 || Ydur || Pahthan || Mentions: Opal, Iliane, Kason, Suna, & Valen (ind.)

Persilia had flirted with many people before, some were more refined or disgusted than clumsy and pleased when it came to her efforts. The pretty woman in which she had attempted to woo seemed to be a good mix of those. Definitely too tightly wound to give Persilia the satisfaction, but, she swore she could see a little glint of amusement in her dashing blues that hid so well under those dark lashes. The words she had spoke had already been memorized in Persilia's head.

"You might see me around," Success.

She had doubts at first, given that the lady was likely flirted too on every occasion, but something must've sparked a difference that seperated Persi from the others. She'd definitely find her way to the woman again, even if she did look like she already despised Persi. She couldn't really see her as a legitiment suitor, but she wanted the satisfaction of getting her name at the very least. Or even a kiss. A peck never hurt anyone, after all.

She hadn't tried to focus on her any longer, as the draw of the crowd was growing. Persilia was here for business purposes. Pretty, tall, women and men were just a bonus. She knew that at least one of these higher borns were going to offer her some kind of opportunity that could leave her to a heavy pouch in the future. Afterall, they nearly always did. She just needed to be in the right place, and this, seemingly was the right place to be. The festival was full of bards who sung out their vocals until they dropped dead from the lack of oxygen, trying to get a hit at fame. But, Persilia, never wanted fame. The spotlight was a generous buff, but she never liked others being nosy in her life. After all, she never really had one to start with.

Her eyes caught onto a clumsy man, struggling to find his way out of the dancing crowd. She could've mistaken him for a child with the way he moved. He tumbled, falling onto his ass, almost getting a face full of cobble in the midst. A devious smirk crossed her as the sight of him being nearly trampled was fulfilling. Oh, stop it. You're going to hell for this. Persilia struggled to look away at the poor sap, she couldn't help herself. Everything went poorly for him. His mangoes escaped him, and even from here, she could see the little bruises that riddled his palms.

Holding in a snicker was near impossible, but Persilia surprisingly managed. The sight of him was like seeing a child drop their favorite toy. Given his pale skin tone, you could easily see his cheeks slightly redden with emotion. Oh gods he was even looking for it. Her lips folded into themselves, refusing to let that laughter escape when she was holding this crowd in her hands. One could easily tell he was frustrated for losing his exotic snack, which only made it all the much harder to not free a chuckle. She just had to finish her song without melting in the process. Finally, her hands plucked the last few strings, and her wrist stopped banging to the tune. She did a small, twiddle of a deeper tune and spun the song into its ending.

Flinging her hand below her chest and elongated the other outwards, she released a bow to the crowd as they roared in approval. The lute dangled from its straps as she brought herself back up. The crowd still stuck around, allowing Persilia to take her little break before she began once more. She took a glance toward her hat, which had a good amount of coins. She was definitely going to eat well tonight. Shall she spoil herself with every sample the festival has to offer? Perhaps she'd entertain the idea of a new outfit. After all, her own was quite the expensive and memorable one. She could sell it off and buy a completely new one to flaunt herself in. Oh, shopping was a great strongsuit of hers. No man could refuse a haggle from Persilia, and how she loved getting her way.

"Iliane!" The same voice called, and Persilia immediately focused. "Opal!" another shouted, which seemed to be close to the woman. Was that her name? Opal? Persilia batted her lashes, her gossiping gift of ears come in handy. And here Persilia was, focusing in on their conversation, even if they managed to be sucked away by the crowd. She'd gather information and later interact with this Opal. Although, she wouldn't expose her newfound leverage just yet. She wanted to pry into her heart and recieve it herself. Afterall, whats the fun of exploiting her when she could go the more unpredictable route of trying to get her to open up?

The crowd was beginning to die, so Persilia had to play soon as to not lose her hard-earned privelege of all the persons. Ah, what should she play next? Another up-beat tune seemed to be in hand. After all, sappy, meloncholy ones never got you anywhere in crowds. Persilia curled her fingers into fists, allowing them to stretch out from the strained work they were put through to please the crowd. Just then, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head, her feet soon following as she went to face a tall, slender man. His complextion was of lighter tones, perhaps he was from Pahtha? Why was his hand still on Persilia's shoulder? She glanced up to his eyes, but she couldn't even see the emotion in them.

They were dark, almost beady and clouded with an undescribed look. He bore no wispy hairs on his chin or above his lips, and looked rather young yet his eyes looked aged.
He bore colorful cloths that seemed to curl elegantly in the wind. He didn't look high born, but nor was from commoners. Persilia was caught off guard as his eyes looked her up and down. His lanky hand retracted and framed his chin, tilting his head as if he was judging how small Persilia was. In moments they were swallowed by the crowd as it began to disperse. Persilia was near impossible to be spotted, given her height was swalloed below many of the taller people.

"I don't remember her being this short." His voice was surprisingly charming and loud, given his lanky look. "Excuse you?" Persilia lifted a brow, taking a step from him. He was uncomfortably close to her, closer than Persilia would want from such a stranger. "Oh- right," The man laughed, and it felt as if thunder could've gone off right then and there. It was so deep and throaty for such a voice her bore. She didn't appreciate his abrupt introduction and couldn't imagine why he had decided to come up to Persilia. He didn't exactly look rich, so it wasn't like he was here to offer her business for possible spots of instrumental plays.

Gathering her thoughts back together, she cocked a hip outwards and planted an hand on it. "What do ya need? I've got things to attend to," Persilia looked him in the eye, which was hard, as she had to really look up to catch them. The young man charmingly brushed his fingers through his hair, the boastly smile still wide on his face. "I give it your mother never gave you much thought, afterall, she was far sweeter than you turned out to be." He cocked his head once more, beginning to fiddle with some random bright orange fabric in his hands. Persilia was shocked and confused, and most incredibly felt disrespected. "You're lucky I dont shove this lute right up your ass-" She glanced to the fabric he was holding. It looked... familiar?

It was the same bit she had cut from the pillar, the same one that was snatched by a gust of wind. Had he been watching her in the crowd and decided to recieve it for her? No, she would've seen him. Who was he? He reached into his belt, pulling out an instrument that resembled a fiddle, yet looked far more... expensive? It was like an odd combination of old time-y and yet looked so intricate, and he drew it forward to Persilia. "You play wonderfully," He started, his eyes almost beginning to look, saddened? His expression still remainded a smile, though.

"Perhaps you'd like to play with this next?" He offered, and Persilia begrudgingly grabbed it. "I myself am a musicion," He mused, but Persilia remained feeling the neck of the instrument. "I never asked," She looked back up to him, giving him the same rude treatment that he had accidentally given her. "Your bark sure is sharp," The man playfully said, which didn't seem to amuse Persilia. "Perhaps I should be honest with you, Sili" His voice was so innnocent now, but the fact that he had known Persilia's childhood nickname made her jolt. "W-what did you call me?" She stuttered at first, becoming a mess.

"Just play your music, I'll come to you later, I promise. You can count on me for once," He put his hand back on Persilia, this time lifting her chin as if they'd known each other for her whole life. She tugged her face back, her lip curling as the young man huffed. "Just- take it back. I don't know what weird shit you're going through, but obviously you've got the wrong person," Persilia gave the man his fiddle, quite roughly so, and turned around toward her hat. She picked it up, brushing off the dust from the cobble. Did she know him? She tried thinking back to her childhood, but no one with such an appearance as him ever rung a bell. She swiveled back around, about to face the man, but he had already gone.

Persilia stood there, not really sure on just what happened. She would've heard him move away. Her ears never missed anything. Another breeze came through, whipping around Persilia's hair before traveling through the crowd, brushing past everyone who was in its way. Nobody else seemed to notice, but Persilia watched as each fabric drifted, parting ever so slightly. Her heart had sank, as she already had a suspicion that she wished she was wrong about. You're just on edge Persi, you haven't gotten any food in your belly yet. Once you eat your mind will clear. She comforted herself , counting the coins in her hat before slipping them into a pouch that fastened to her belt.

Persilia walked by a stand that she had been spotting for a bit, inhaling the good smells which cleared her thoughts of the man.

"Dont down it so quickly, love, you'll give yourself a heartattack!" "Come on mum! I wanna see the dancers!" "Gods, Julie! It's been so long!" The conversations and banters of conversations flooded her mind once more, and Persilia pointed at a freshly baked pastry in the stand she was at. "2 silver coins, deary." The woman lifted the fluffy bread-like pastry up in a cloth, letting the delicious smell waft to Persilia. As if that'd convince her to buy for such a price. "2 silvers? You think i'd buy for such an outrageous price?" Persilia grimaced, disgusted with the pricing the woman had.

"I've seen far more appealing pastries on the stand across the street, Persilia started to walk towards the ladies' competition, and was abruptly stopped as she beckoned for her. "Wait- you mean this pastry? OH yes, that's a mere 1 silver," Persilia stopped in her tracks, her back was still facing the woman as a devious smirk crossed her face. She lifted a foot forward, spinning on a dime to face her as she took a step toward the woman. "Don't waste my time, I have a family to feed, not a mouse. 2 coppers." Persilia looked the woman dead in the eye, cocking her head slightly as she let out an exasperated huff. "6 coppers." The woman sneered.

Persilia planted her hands on the wooden table, causing the woman to jump as she inched closer. "Last I recall these same pastries are being sold at 3 coppers in the inn down the street," Persilia shifted her weight, lifting a hand as she checked her nails, side eyeing the woman. She honestly didn't even know what was down the street, but she expected for the woman to crack. "That's outrageous- that.. tavern doesn't sell any pastries as good as mine! They're homemade! Fresh!" The woman was fiddling with the cloth on her tunic, her eyes remained on Persilia yet she could tell they were uneasy. "And how am I supposed to know that?" Persilia lifted a brow. "Try some!" The woman peeled a small piece off of freshly baked bread, offering it to Persi. She gave an almost disgusted look before taking it. It was warm, fluffy and made her stomach yearn for more.

"You like to cheat people out on these, don't you?" Her voice became louder now, catching the attention of a few who seemed to be lingering near her shop. "Shhh-ut that mouth of yours girl," She grimaced, pointing a calloused finger at her.

"How am I supposed to enjoy the festival when you want my entire pay for some flimsy..." Persilia struggled to find the words, yet still held a disgusted face as he fingers snapped trying to find the words.

"3 coppers, take it and leave." The woman placed the baked good toward Persilia. Digging into her pouch, she plucked 3 coppers, placing them onto the table. "Thanks for complying," Persilia gave an obviously honeyed smile before taking off down the street toward her old playing spot. Thats when the sound of another musiscion was already playing- quite closely so too. She must've not noticed it before, but it was definitely turning some heads. It was mellow and didn't fit the lively tune of the festival, so she doubted it'd be that hard to knock her off her feet.

"That bard's going to give me indigestion." Persilia huffed, unwrapping the pastry, in which was a good size, and allowing its warm scent to waft into her nose. She picked it up, taking a healthy bite full of it. It was an amazing pastry, and she could see it going for at least 5 coppers. But, she'd stick true to her morals of 2 silvers being outrageously overpriced. And- now she knew where to stay for the night. Some Tavern had to offer lodging, yes? She went to take another bite, only just realizing she already scarfed the entire thing down. "Well thats just not fair," Persi said, her voice stuck in a grumpy yet disappointed tone.

Brushing the crumbs off on her tunic, she felt up her lute once more. She glanced up toward the bard, who, in fact was a woman sitting beside a man who seemed to be words of encouragement. She lifted the corner of her lip, pursing them as she listened to her unique tunes. They were... alright. Persilia wouldn't tarnish her pride by calling it good. "If its a competition you want, its a competition you'll get," She eyed them, mumbling to herself as she shook out her hands. What tune shall I crush her dreams with? Now quickly holding a grudge for the woman daring to set up near Persilia, she had made it a goal to humiliate her. How dare she steal the spotlight while Persilia grabbed a snack?

Persilia leaned against the same pillar, clearing her throat as she sent a death glare to the woman playing near her. Her competitive side was already fluxuating. Her previous actions with the strange man were being drowned out as she began to pluck strings from her lute. It started abruptly, and it expressed a loud tune, demanding attention from its atmosphere. It started mediocarely slow, yet had a nice build up. She even forgot to put her hat down for the extra coin, as she was focused on merely stealing the audience from that bard. The beat began as Persilia began to smack the ground with her heel, and the strings were being plucked in such a profressional manner, it was like Persilia had practiced the song her entire life.

Her hat was tilted down, but one could still see her contact with the woman playing a distance away from her. Nobody's going to dance when you look like you're gonna murder anyone who goes near you. Persilia retracted her gaze, putting on a honeyed expression as to look more welcoming. She had to be more reserved to attract them. She wasn't playing for the coin now, but for the competition, which only made her music more increasingly attracting. The lute's strings were being practically abused by the speed she was going. If she wasn't so delicate with them, they'd like cave under the pressure. After all, she had to make up for what a band would play with just one musicion. Instead of playing notes at a time, she had to mix as much as she could.

The crowd who had dispersed began to gather once more, increasingly being drawn by the rate at which Persilia played. It sounded almost sassy, yet so upbeat and catchy that it had the same pull, if not stronger, than her previous song. It was dance worthy, but more so in a way that made you want to start a brawl. It clashed against the woman's soothing tones, and instead began to rouse the crowd. People began to dance once more as Persilia glanced down to her lute, eyeing the next string she'd pluck as she began to bang her wrist against the wood once more, followed by the tapping of the cobble that she produced. The beat would slow down at one moment and quickly build up in such an unpredictable yet exciting tone that seemed to draw more from the crowd.

Persilia tilted her head upward as to make contact with the crowd, only guessing what kind of dance they'd try to match with her song. Surprsingly, a couple stepped out of the crowd, dancing with each other, they seemed so intact with each other as they stomped their feet to the beat, only staring into each others eyes as the locked hands and pranced with each other, before switching directions. After the crowd studied it, they too mirrored, grabbing a significant other or a mere stranger to partner with them. Some switched out, while others grabbed the hands of their children. A toddler's baby-like coo made Persilia's honeyed outlook soften as the mother seemed so genuinely expressing love to her son. This was definitely going to mark a memory in their minds, one that made that parent and child bond. One that Persilia never got to encounter.

She glanced at the rest of the crowd, couples staring so fun-lovingly into each others eyes, ignoring the rest of the world around them. So many of those significant things managed to calm Persilia's competitive look- just a tad. She began to enjoy herself more, bopping to the sway of the dancing. Yet, the only thing she clung dearly was the lute. Unlike everyone else who clung onto the hands of the one they loved. Her attention was once more tore from the competition as she focused on those who were dancing around her. Persilia cracked a smile, allowing the beat to soften just the slightest, making the tune come out more warm than suspensful, yet it still had a beat that made you want to move. What most musiscions in the festival struggled to do was express their emotion through their songs, which was why Persilia played by heart. It helped that she was born to express it through song, which ultimately allowed Persilia to get as far as she could. Years ago, she would've been dreaming of occassions like this.