Open Chronicles The Town of Yuletide

[Caliane Ruinë]

There are many tales about the strange things that come out of the Spine. Monsters fit for children's nightmares, races thought extinct, and unusual types of magic. It should therefore make perfect sense it is within the heart of this piece of Arethil there is a town that can only be found for a few weeks out of the entire year, located in the middle of the vast Cobhear Lake but unreachable by lake.

The town of Yuletide.

As the temperatures plummet to below freezing with the coming of the Winter King the lake becomes a frozen wasteland. Many ages ago the surrounding civilisations used this time of year to shorten their journey times and trade with neighbours. Over time this trading route grew from a road into a spectacular town in its own right. Made up of a series of wooden huts and market stalls that can easily be dismantled and hauled back across the lake by reindeer, this magical town has made the holiday of Yuletide an art that now attracts visitors from across the world.

In its centre stands a Christmas tree that towers over the makeshift houses that is sung to its great height by a group of elves from the nearby Forest of Milintre. The singing of the tree in itself is now a tradition that the townsfolk consider announce the town as officially open for the season. Underneath its limbs visitors can skate on the section of the lake fenced off and kept clear of stalls. From that epicentre fans a series of market stalls selling a myriad of different items from local traders. Whilst the town has grown in popularity the townspeople have been diligent in upholding the ancient tradition of the trade routes bringing neighbours together in order to trade with one another.

It's not just stalls though that make up this town. Inns, bars, even houses brought by market holders to house them for the season turn this phenomenon from just another Yuletide Market into the true Town of Yuletide.

* * *
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A snowflake landed on the end of Caliane's button-like nose and she wrinkled it unconsciously at the bite of frost. For years she had watched from her people's self imposed isolation as the people of Yuletide had celebrated this festive season and she had longed to walk its odd little icy streets strung with lights. But now her people were on the cusp of opening their doors to the rest of the world and she had earnt her freedom from their old laws she tore down with every step among those streets this year. Step would perhaps be too tame a way of describing her gleeful skip, but Caliane would like to pretend she managed to maintain a little bit of self decorum.

She had found herself on the edge of the odd little ring the people told her was a skating rink and had been helped into a pair of odd shoes with blades on their soles. Apparently it was considered a fun activity to glide around smooth polished ice on this contraptions.

"Oof," the Avariel's wings splayed out either side of her as she landed on her backside for the fifth time that morning, scowling at the odd little shoes. "How is falling over, fun?" she murmured under her breath and watched as another couple hit the deck in a similar manner to herself.

 

[Tadrielus Galawen]

Tadrielus had watched the village assemble itself over days. When the waters first froze he could see the people creeping out, testing the thickness of the ice. As the season moved on they brought rope and tools, everything needed to build up the trade hub. It wasn’t long after that the building materials themselves came over, and the center of the lake transformed. He liked watching the tree grow taller and taller the most.

It would not be his first time in Yuletide, nor his second. Or fifth. Or tenth? It was difficult to keep track after so long, and he looked forward to seeing familiar faces upon the ice. Bundling up with a thick padded vest and pantaloons, and fitting sturdy boots to his feet, he soared gracefully from his hermitage and down the frigid miles of slopes to the lake’s center.

There was the usual staring at his arrival, and children pointing at his wings. To these small faces he winked, and strode across the ice towards his favorite spot: a pop up selling hot mead and cider, spiced wine and roasted nuts, right beneath the massive tree and next to the skating area. He could already smell the cinnamon and sugar, and he stepped as eagerly as a much, much younger man.

He was about to join the line and order boiled cider and a healthy helping of toasted hazelnuts, but he caught a flash of brilliant white against the tree’s bark and looked aside. At first he thought a very, very large bird had crashed onto the ice, but he quickly saw the red hair and delicate features of an avariel. It was unmistakable, and he should know after all.

A mixture of excitement and trepidation hit him all at once. It was wonderful to see one of his own kind outside of their city, but such things were still new. He didn’t know how they would react to seeing him. They looked young, and would likely have been little more than a child when he was hanging up his armor.

He could not help himself stepping closer, and in doing so his reservations vanished. He knew who this was, who else could it be but the Angel of Fire sung about in Bhathairk? There just weren’t that many fire-haired angels in the world, these days, and Tadrielus had certainly been interested in the stories of another avariel traveling the world and fighting monsters. Call it nostalgia.

He swung his legs over the fence and half-walked-half-skated to the fallen woman, offering a hand to help her up. ”I am told it is easier if you put your weight forwards, but I never quite took to it myself.”

 

[Ramiel]

Convincing nomads that you were the winged messenger of an ancient prophecy was surprisingly simple. When they had told him they were going to a mythical town called Yuletide he was happy to accompany them so that he could, "bless their harvest," or whatever it was that traders hoped to accomplish by coming to this sort of thing.

After two months of drinking what the tribe called, "goat wine," he was enjoying the return to civilization as he sipped on a soothing hot toddy. The lemon and whiskey glided down his throat, warming his chest in defiance of the biting cold.

It was just as he was getting comfortable in his fur boots that one of the women from the tribe whom he'd dubbed as, 'Mittens,' came bursting through the tent flaps with a look of shock on her face. "Your holiness? There are others, like you, out there. With wings and everything! Are they also from Yez'tahe'let?"

Fuck me. His thoughts raced as the prospect of not just one Avariel but multiple Avariel charged through his head.

Thinking on his feet the winged man jumped up from his chair, nearly spilling his drink, and declared, "why yes! It must be. Wait here so I can ensure they are truly sent from our blessed father."

Outside of the bar tent he could see the skating rink adorned with children, lovers, and two winged vipers sent here by fate to completely ruin his day. Blue eyes scanned the perimeter and he spotted a half dozen of his own 'followers' who were staring and pointing at the Avariel on the ice.

There was really only one way to spin this. He had to keep those two away from the tribe he had been grifting for the past two months. Ramiel kicked off from the soft snow and with a few swift flaps drifted towards the two icebound angels.

As he tiptoed onto the ice he declared, "it's great to see you two!" Ramiel stared pensively as the older, muscular, Avariel aided the redhead in getting up off the ice. She had clearly never encountered skates and, getting into character, the sly winged elf joined in on the game, "you alright, red? My, what are those bladed shoes called? Is that how the wingless creatures are gliding atop the ice? Marvelous!"

He was probably overselling his 'wonder' as he placed one hand atop his hip and let his jaw drop wide open.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane had gotten side tracked watching the couple as they managed to stagger their way back to their feet, her smile dimpling both her cheeks and creasing the corners of her emerald eyes. Despite her own confusion over how the activity was fun the Avariel took almost as much pleasure in simply seeing others have fun and enjoy themselves. It was just such a warm feeling. The distraction also meant that she hadn't seen who it was who was approaching her and only realised she was no longer alone when he spoke. The suddenness of company made her jump and her head snapped up and away from the other skaters to the figure in front of her.

Eyes the hue of a forest in the heart of summer widened and her hand, which had automatically been lifting to accept the gesture, froze in its path. Another Avariel? Thyasari was not all too far away after all, had others taken the easing of restrictions to leave and enjoy a festivity they had only been able to watch from afar? But this man had the bearings of a Warrior and that made her wary; her father was not her greatest champion for the change she was helping to bring about and she wouldn't put it past him to send someone to bring her home.

"I... see..." Cali spoke softly but then she didn't need to speak at the usual pitch humans required to hear. She let her hand fall into his and let him help her to her feet. Like a new born deer she wobbled but with a little fanning of her wings she managed to stay upright. Her eyes never left his. A thousand questions swam in their depths and she opened her mouth to ask the first when they were joined by another.

Another Avariel.

This one, however, was far closer to her in age and his feathers she knew. What was his name? They had not had much dealings but she had seen him enough... Oh what was it!? Her lips pressed into a thin line as her brows drew down into an disbelieving frown.

"My name is Caliane... not Red," her wings drew up against her back as skaters passed them on either side, seemingly uncaring of the three winged people in their midst. "What are you both doing here?" the uneasiness in her tone in the first sentence was replaced now by pure wonder and excitement.

 

[Tadrielus Galawen]

He lifted her back upon her skates and although she was unsteady, she rose with a grace befitting her race. He met her green eyes with his own, a similar hue, and deep crevices formed around them as he gave a warm smile.

He was looking forward to speaking with this one about her exploits. It was one thing to hear stories from the bards, but quite another to hear them from the lips of the subject themselves. Usually there were fewer heroics and miracles, and more luck, grit, and pain. All the same, having any part in slaying the great black beast of Bhathairk was to be commended.

He was cut off, though, be a dissonant voice to the side. He looked on the man in confusion, and disbelief. Another avariel. Thysari must have embraced their open-door policy for fervently than he’d imagined, otherwise the chances of the three of them coming together like this was nearly naught.

Tadrielus had seen far too many faces in his life to remember all of them, but he was certain he‘d never laid eyes on this young man, so the familiar tone was disarming. Caliane, likewise, appeared confused, although not too upset by it.

"What are you both doing here?"

”I could ask the same, Caliane,” he said with a soft huffing laugh to himself, before placing a hand on his chest. ”I am Tadrielus, and I have come to once again sample Thalmigor’s mead and nuts, but I have never had the pleasure of my own kind joining me before.”

It was extraordinary, and Tadrielus couldn’t help a quiet nagging of concern. So many avariels outside the city was unusual, perhaps to the point of being dangerous. Nevertheless, his gladness at finding them outweighed these doubts, and he gestured to the makeshift wooden stall from which fantastic aromas were wafting. ”Perhaps such a conversation would be best had over warm cups?”

 

[Ramiel]

A boyish grin was quickly replaced by a scowl. Caliane. He wasn’t close with her and it had been so long that he hardly recognized her.

”Of course, Caliane, I was only teasing,” except he wasn’t and absolutely did not recognize her.

Tadrielus was a name he didn’t recognize but this man was clearly his senior and Ramiel never paid much attention to Avariel history lessons or social structure. His suggestion to go eat nuts and mead at the shanty wooden stall across from the rink was reassurance that the gentleman had poor taste.

With wings curling towards him for warmth he said, ”Tadrielus? I don’t believe we’ve met before.” Gesturing towards the firebug herself he added, ”I’m Ramiel, as you well know Caliane,” his pearly whites exposed themselves in a brilliant smile as he continued, ”I am here on assignment from the Order of Merchants. Many vital goods being traded here.”

That was, obviously, a lie. But he was doubtful anyone would call him out on it. ”Oh! Mead and warm nuts sounds lovely,” and by that he meant, ‘it’s far enough away from my tent that we can stay out of earshot for hours.’

Ramiel didn’t wait for a reply, he fully wrapped his body in his cream colored wings and began carefully walking across the ice. ”Do they have blackberry mead, Tadrielus? That sounds wonderful.”

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane had the good sense to look a little embarrassed at Tadrielus' response to her question. She put her hands behind her back and looked down at her toes as she dug one of her skates a little into the ice and chewed on her bottom lip. It was hard to shake the feeling she were doing something wrong, freedom was such a knew thing. But the name niggled at a memory - of her father discussing some of the Warriors and the reasons why she should have picked that discipline. If this Avariel did know her father she was glad to see he didn't seem to share his viewpoints on keeping Thysari sealed. Ramiel was a completely different story.

"The... Makers sent you?" she asked incredulously and looked up at the other man with her brows pulled down into a frown. "That was... quick," Cali murmured and cast her eyes thoughtfully in the direction of Thysari. With her keen elven eyes she could just about make out the smudged peak of their home. It wouldn't be unlike them to seize an opportunity but it did seem curious they would ask this Avariel to represent them.

Gods there was something about him...

Cali nodded her agreement to the wine and food, skating her way after the two as they made their way off the ice. Once she was back onto unpolished ground she bent and took off her skates, replacing them with the comfortable hunting boots she favoured.

"Much better," she sighed gratefully once they were sat down with warm mead in their hands and a few bowls of different hot treats; roasted chestnuts, warm sugar covered dough balls, and a melting circular cheese with warm bread. Cali wriggled like a small child and dipped a bit of crust in to the oozing fondue and popped it in her mouth. "Skating I don't get, but this... this I do."

 

[Tadrielus Galawen]

The situation was so incredible that Tadrielus’ could not dwell on the odd behavior of the young man, nor the gawking eyes of passers by as the three angelic figures ambled along the ice. ”Oh yes, quite excellent blackberry mead, if you don’t mind purple teeth for a day or so.”

Once seated the food steamed into the frigid air, and Tadrielus clapped in hands together in anticipation of the sweet and savory treats they were about to sample, and helped himself to the chestnuts and a sugary dough ball treat.

”How marvelous,” he said at last, dusting the sugar off of his fingers. ”I had hoped Thysari was serious about finally embracing the open world, but I hadn’t expected to see the results so soon.“ He was tempted to ask Ramiel what goods the merchants were interested in here, but decided it might be cruel. The story hadn’t been overly convincing, but he did not want to make his new friend uncomfortable. If the man felt the need to hide his true intentions Tadrielus wouldn’t force him to reveal them.

Instead, he continued his train of thought. ”It is good, I think, though I am surprised that Azithrael came around. Although... is he still on the council?” the last part was said more to himself as he realized he wasn’t sure if the old avariel were still one of the ruling elders, or even still alive. He had to have been what... at least 900?

”In any case, I am glad the merchants, at least, have embraced the new policy quickly,” he gestured to Ramiel and took another sip of warm mead.

 

[Ramiel]

Ramiel's wings spread skyward in ecstasy as the first warm ball of dough squished between his teeth. The savages he had spent the past months with didn't seem to appreciate the importance of sugar or cinnamon or piping hot spheres of bread that nearly melted in your hand.

He took a large swig of the blackberry mead, not really caring what color his teeth ended up by midday, and let out a refreshing, "ah!" The winged elf had ignored Red, er, Caliane's question about the Makers but he couldn't help but agree with her observation of this tent.

"Yes, those funny bladed shoes make no sense but mead? Sweets? Warmed chmestmnuts?" The last part of his agreement was partially muffled by the sound of a fistful of hearty nuts being chewed.

Then, like clockwork, the older and more wizened Avariel had to bring the topic back 'round again.

"Oh, they're very very serious," he lied, "or at least the merchants are. They've had me learning the cultures and customs of the landed ones for awhile now." That last part was true. Though why the merchants cared about culture he didn't know but it afforded him special privileges to spend as much time on the ground as he cared to and allowed him to return to Thysari from time-to-time without the stares of a man in exile.

Azithrael? Was he the one with a limp wing or the one who always reeked of incense?

"Old Azi's still kicking. I don't pay much attention to who is and isn't on the council. Just keep my head down and focus on my task," a partial truth. He still couldn't remember which one Azithrael was.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane was unfortunately the opposite to Ramiel though not out of choice. If pushed she could recite all fourteen names off without a pause in breath. Many times she had sat at the dinner table with them all or woken to find one or more around her parents table discussing some state matter or other.

"Azithrael and my father were the only two who opposed in the end," she said with a soft and tired sigh. It had been a long year of negotiations, of putting her life on the line to bring the Elders proof that the world was a place worth being a part of again. As such it wasn't really a conversation she wanted to have when in a town full of joy. She shifted awkwardly on the stool and busied herself with the cheese in front of her whilst attempting to find a new string of conversation.

"But you... you've been out of Thyasari for a long time?" her eyes raised to the elder across the table, curiosity filling her wide green gaze.

 

[Tadrielus Galawen]

Tadrielus regarded Caliane with a look of suppressed sympathy. Wandering spirits had, until recently, not been treated kindly by the avariel.

He knew, of course, who she was, if only by reputation. A young avariel, free of spirit and gifted with living fire, did not describe very many people. Her father, on the other hand, he had met. Tadrielus had not been a member of the warrior caste, and in spite of his many deeds he would never be officially labeled as such. This did not bother him, but it did make his relationship with the leader of the warriors... complicated.

He knew enough of the Ruinë patron that he was not surprised that he had resisted the opening of their city. He could hardly blame him for that, in terms of security opening the doors was a very bad move. Ah, but sacrifices had to be made.

"But you... you've been out of Thyasari for a long time?"

“Oh yes,” he answered with another gulp of warm mead. “I haven’t lived in the city for half a century. They’ve let me visit recently, but I expected to be exiled forever when I first left.” He ate another handful of nuts. “It was not a decision I made lightly, but I am glad it need not plague the new generations.”

He nodded to Ramiel. “And what discoveries have you made of these cultures?” It would be interesting to hear his accounts if he was in fact newly outside the city. How would fresh eyes see the world now?

 

[Ramiel]

Caliane's quip about her father and Azithrael caused a few tumblers to click in Ramiel's mind. He had forgotten that the Ruinë family was the one that Caliane hailed from. Her father was a General, he was certain that he at least remembered that much. Likely well connected, by blood, to the upper ranks of the societies of Thyasari. Why, then, was she here? With the two of them?

"Exiled?" he repeated in a curious tone. If the man wished to address it further, so be it, but Ramiel was beyond interested into the reasoning for such an exile.

Instead of waiting for a response though he smirked at Tadrielus' inquiry. "Plenty!" His enthusiasm was nearly contagious, "the flightless ones, as I'm sure you and Caliane well know, are a lot smarter than the Avariel believe. I mean, they're still primitive," Exhibit A, he thought, the throngs of worshippers I have across the lawn, "but surely more resourceful than the Elders might believe."

Ramiel bit into a piece of beautifully dried meat, downed the remaining contents of his mead, gestured for another fill, and then turned his head towards Caliane. "So I'm here on assignment, Tadrielus here is an exile... or uh, former exile... but what about you, red?" A sly smile crept across his features, "why are you gracing the ground with your presence? Surely your father has more pressing matters back in Thysari for you, yes?"

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

In counter to Ramiel's curious query as to why Tadrielus would be exiled Caliane only nodded in sombre understanding. The laws of their kind were pretty strict for those who broke it and not leaving Thysari was the biggest. Or, at least, it had been. It was still a fact she was reeling from herself even though she had been in the room on the day it had been agreed. The image of her fathers face floated across her mind and she managed to hide her own grimace by stuffing more food into her mouth. She chased it down with the mead and closed her eyes with a sigh. The cold was her natural equaliser in the grand scheme of nature and it made her weaker. Even the small warmth of the mead helped her to feel a little better though.

"Me?" she startled out of her quiet enjoyment of all things toasty and looked at Ramiel with two wide green eyes. Which narrowed very quickly. "You... do not know?" How long exactly had he been out of Thysari? She was beginning to think it was longer than the year she had been down here. For a moment longer she held him in the prison of her gaze and then eventually gave a sigh and looked down at her mug.

"I was out Hunting when a band of mages captured me - they had been setting traps all over the territory and we were trying to catch the people responsible. We just hadn't realised they were trying to catch one of us," her wings shifted uncomfortably with the memory. Sometimes in the depths of night she woke still in a sweat. "I... escaped with some help from the Groundlings which is not what I was expecting. Whilst I was recovering I began to realise... they were not as bad as we had been led to believe. When I returned home to let them know I was ok I asked for leave to bring them proof of what I had experienced and they granted it. I think they thought I would fail but..." she spread her hands out to the small group to indicate she had not.

"Now I choose to stay and help people here. I have helped protect our people from Monsters, it seems right to do it for everyone."

 

[Tadrielus Galawen]

Tadrielus’ eye crinkled with the barest hint of a smirk at Ramiel’s obvious curiosity. Exile did sound so terribly nefarious, how boring it would be to reveal that simply leaving the city was his crime.

His hopes were answered: it was entertaining to hear the newly fledged speak of the world’s various cultures. It wasn’t far off from his first impressions, so long ago. Given time he was sure that Ramiel, too, would realize how much closer the avariel were to the “flightless” than they’d like to admit.

His face turned a notable shade darker as Caliane relayed her tale. Had this happened in the nearby mountains? If so he could not help but feel a little guilty that he had not been aware, nor had he intervened. Of course, what would he have done? Slaughtered the lot of them? That wasn’t exactly the way he’d hoped to spend his golden years.

His smile returned in earnest to hear Caliane’s talk of protecting the common people. “Good for you,” he chimed in, stopping just short of saying ‘you remind me of myself at your age.’ Young people didn’t want to hear that.

He caught a glimpse of a few unusual looking “flightless ones” from beyond the fence. “Are these some of the people you have met on your travels?” He asked Ramiel. “They seem very... intense.”

Indeed, the figures were positively burning through the three of them with their eyes. He took another handful of nuts.

 

[Ramiel]

Ramiel's lips parted into a boisterous laugh. He attempted to stifle it, placing a hand on his chest and snickering as his mouth closed shut quickly.

"Hah, forgive me, I apologize. I was not aware of that horrid encounter. But you are Caliane Runë, correct?" He didn't wait for a reply but allowed a loud crunching of nuts to punctuate the question. "The aspect of fire itself? I was something of a magical prodigy too you know. Before your birth a few years later when you became the pride of Thysari."

It didn't really bother him. Well, it did, but he truly preferred not to show it.

"You're telling me that the most talented prodigy of our generation was captured by groundlings? And then, ironically, saved by groundlings? The Elders know this?" It was almost as embarrassing as masquerading as a god, lying to the Makers, and shirking off several decades of work to engorge oneself with wine and women. Almost.

Unfortunately, Ramiel didn't have time to revel in the misfortune of a childhood rival he hadn't seen in decades. Instead the old man pointed out that his cultist followers had begun gathering around the trio.

"Never seen 'em," he said dismissively, "but perhaps they are here to capture our dear Caliane again?" After a snide chuckle he turned around and glared at the three followers. One of them was the ever nosey Mittens herself.

Sparks of electricity fluttered around his wings and fingertips to accentuate his glare as he shouted at the on-lookers, "be gone. Go about your business. We are not a sideshow attraction for your entertainmnet."

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane's cheeks coloured a scarlet red at the laughter. Not with embarrassment for she still bore the scars of what it was they had done to her and she knew there had been nothing she could have done. No, with anger. It was a rare emotion for the avariel with a heart too big for the world but occasionally she did feel it. The soft white feathers of her wings began to burn with that brilliant white fire. The odd little group of people who had been following Ramiel gasped audibly and began to babble in their language.

"They used barbaric technology that cuts you off from your magic," her voice was cold iron, a disconcerting contrast to the heat being generated from her wings. When her eyes met his they were full of ghosts of what had been. There was no defence in her words just explanation which seemed to make it a whole lot worse. Eventually she looked away. "It is like being cut off from a part of your soul," it had been killing her slowly of that she knew. The way she had been able to explain it best to others was like suddenly being unable to breathe properly. A suppressed shudder ran up her spine and she downed the rest of the hot mead with a grimace.

"I'm going to get another," she muttered quietly and slid off her chair to make a beeline for the bar.

 

[Tadrielus Galawen]

Things were becoming very heated very quickly and in a very literal sense. Already some of the nearby tables had begun to clear out as the angels amongst them started showering sparks and flames.

"Alright, we are not here to stab at old wounds. Why, this is a happy occasion! When was the last time so many of our people could meet beneath a yuletide tree, surrounded by all the peoples of the world?" He suspected that this might not cool Caliane's furnace, nor fully dissuade Ramiel from antagonizing her further, but it would at the very least let the other people know that someone was trying to keep these youngsters from burning down their festival.

As Caliane went to the bar, Tadrielus remained seated, taking a slow sip to finish his mead before fixing Ramiel with eyes of new-growth green. His stare retained the softness it had held before, but in it was just a touch of the stern. He suspected that Ramiel had not seen hardship the likes of which haunted Caliane, elsewise he may not be so callous. He had no way of knowing this, of course.

"I have found pride much less useful outside of Thysari," he said with a gentle smile. "The ground folk can be primitive, but we are in their world. We made it so when we stayed behind our walls."

He tossed a few nuts to the ground so that a few birds came to peck at them. "We aren't gods, no matter how we try." He glanced sideways at the crowd that had been cowed by Ramiel, looking for all the world like divine retribution might be coming their way. Some men wanted all creatures to fear them in such a way. Some men that, it seemed, still held sway in Thysari.

 

[Ramiel]

A face normally marked by striking features and beauty found itself contort in disgust. Not at Caliane's absence or at the prospect of upsetting her. No, it was the story she told of the flightless ones. Ramiel hadn't wielded a blade or mace in actual decades and he was proud to say that firing a bow was something his delicate fingers had never dared to attempt.

Magic was all that he had. To defend himself, to show off to the rabble, and even to hunt.

"Primitive?" His words poured out like a nervous child, "they aren't primitive, they're monsters if what Caliane said was true. Surely she was just joking, devices to cut one off from their magic don't actually exist. And if they do the groundlings make use of them? To pluck our feathers or find a way into Thysari or what? No, none of that can be..."

His breathing had hastened and he stopped speaking as he realized he was showcasing something he didn't like others to know he felt. Fear. Utter terror of these beings that he once treated like insects.

Ramiel cleared his throat, "I'll apologize to the girl when she returns. But I swear if she made that tale up just to rile me," he shook his head and took another long drink of his mead.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she stood waiting at the bar. The memories of those months were dark and full of monsters. It had taken months for her to be able to go to sleep without waking in a sweat with the feel of their blade cutting into her flesh and now, in a single conversation, she was back there. The room at the end of that stone corridor where they had dragged her to day in and day out to find the mysteries behind her wings.

"Love?" the bartender asked tentatively. Cali opened her eyes slowly and took a moment to focus on his face, then the drink he was pushing slowly towards her. "Are you alright Miss...?" he tried again when she still didn't reach out and take the hot mead. Eventually she shook herself and reached out with a trembling hand to take the warm mug with a nod and a quiet thank you. The coins she left behind were more than enough.

Slowly she meandered back to where their table was and sat back down.

"So, will you be going back to Thyasari soon?" she looked up at the older avariel as she sipped her drink.

 

[Tadrielus Galawen]

Tadrielus kept his face neutral as Ramiel spoke. The eternal curse of experience meant the more one gained, the fewer people could match it. He could not expect Ramiel to have the same appreciation for the peoples of the world as he did, could not expect him to understand that humans and elves and dwarves all had their dark sects. Such revelations took time, and much more exposure would be needed.

“There are monsters in every skin, we should be careful not to let them poison our view of all.” He left it at that. Once again, no one liked an old man lecturing them.

Caliane returned, looking shaken but calmer. Luckily the flames had gone out, but the unsteadiness of her hands was something he understood quite well. How young she was to have endured such hardship. If she were to continue in such a manner her legacy would outpace him in under a century, if it had not already.

“Oh I had not planned to. Of course, I don’t plan much of anything anymore.” He gave a little laugh at his own joke and lifted his empty cup with a wink to the bartender to signal a refill (being aged did have some benefits). He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, thinking.

“Although it might be nice to see it again. Are you on your way? I can’t remember the last time I flew with another.”

 

[Ramiel]

Knuckles blistered white as the proud Avariel gripped his cup of mead tighter. "Certainly. I know that not all of the wingless ones are nasty little gremlins but the fact that some in their ranks devised some foul way to sever magic all so they could pluck at our feathers is," he allowed his breathing to steady. His tight grip to relinquish. He was acting like a petulant child now and he knew it. "It's just a bit distressing. That's all."

What would Ramiel have done were it he who had his tie to magic cut? He'd likely have been panicked too. Screaming. Were he to have escaped, as Caliane did, he doubted that he'd ever return to the surface. A cruel place where instead of worshipping you and filling your belly with free liquor the locals carved out the magical part of you and paraded you around clipping at your wings.

When the red-haired Avariel returned with another glass the younger male Avariel couldn't help but feel a sting of embarassment.

"Forgive my earlier outburst Caliane," he said in a voice that was still trying to clutch onto a modicum of pride, "I had no idea the creatures nullified your magic. I won't bring it up again."

He allowed the munching of nuts to cut his words short. Should he say anything more he'd likely just offend, or worse, make himself seem too apologetic.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

When Ramiel apologised Caliane gave him a sceptical and guarded look. It took a lot to ruffle the young fire angel's wings but when it happened she was slow to be as open and trusting as she was before. Still, her mother had always told her it was harmful to hold on to hurt feelings so after a careful amount of consideration she nodded her head in acceptance and settled her wings against her back calmly. With that nastiness behind them all she went back to enjoying the novelty of sitting with her own kind in a Groundling town at Yuletide sipping mead.

Her smile for the older Avariel was warm when he asked whether she was returning home herself. She shook her head.

"Not quite home but I will be flying past it. I'm staying in Minardil," the small elven town that sat at the base of the mountain upon which Thyasari stood was the only civilisation that knew the Avariel still existed. They were a clever front for trade and the first form of protection against Groundling dangers. It was a popular haunt for Hunters for obvious reasons but it was also a place curious Avariel would go to learn more of the world outside whilst still safely in the boarders of Thyasari. "My mate and I are staying there for the moment but we must head further West on work soon. I'd be happy to fly with you though."

 

[Tadrielus Galawen]

"Is that so? Now what would someone such as yourself be doing for work?" From the stories, Caliane didn't seem like the type to let a job dictate her movements. If the bards were to be believed, she could find purpose anywhere. Bards were rarely to be believed, though. He once heard a song about a woman who'd married an orc, and who bore horses as children. He was no scholar, but that seemed... farfetched.

Ramiel's tone had changed at her return. The idea of having magic locked away was frightening indeed. Tadrielus had not encountered such a thing himself, and for that he had been lucky. A young serving girl approached their table, she looked no more than twelve to be honest. Did the owner have a daughter? In any case, she seemed equal parts awestruck and nervous at the three angels, and she refilled Tadrielus' cup with shaky hands.

"Thank you, dear," he said warmly.

But before she could finish, there was a deafening CRACK from beyond the festival. The ice gave a great shudder beneath them, so much so that the young girl lost her footing and Tadrielus' cup fell to the ground. So much that a few of the more hastily assembled stalls sloped over and fell. The great tree wept leaves... and then it was silent.

"I don't believe that is supposed to happen."