The mortal customof celebrating the change of seasons will always be strange. I don’t quite understand the reason to celebrate, and aside from tying each season to a particular god or goddess, no one has been able to tell mewhythese celebrations take place.
In the hells, celebrations serve a purpose. The Dark Hunt reduces the number of Unhoused demons, the Abyssal grants Houses the chance to showcase their strength, and The Reaping collects the overflow of errant souls left in the veil.
There’s always areason.
And almost always they’repractical.
But here, when the turn of the season arrives, Ollora grows to bursting with people who gather for the sake of gathering. Merchants, wandering minstrels and musicians, innate painters, songstresses and storytellers—they all make themselves known.
I saw it during the summer solstice celebration. At least then I observed from the safety of the rooftops with Eve for company. The streets were far too crowded to consider traversing them. The rooftops proved to be a much faster avenue for travel, and the views unlike any other.
Again, the streets are flooded with people.
Whether Olloran or visitors from elsewhere, they bustle and chitter, going about their lives and enjoying the festival. With games and dancing, and food and music and drinks flowing freely, these people create a shifting sea of colors.
They’re garbed in robes, cloaks, and skirts in bold tones like those found in the changing leaves. Deep crimsons, vivid oranges,forest browns and a plethora of autumnal colors that fall between. Paired with bright eyes and broad smiles everywhere I look, it makes for quite the sight.
Ryc gifted me an eye-catching, silk-lined woolen cloak in a deep scarlet and at first, I was confused by it. His insistence I wear it today didn’t help matters.
Now it makes sense.
Ollorans celebrate the equinox by wearing the colors of autumn.
He dons the same and together we move through the streets headed toward the square of the South Ward. Along with warm laughter, the joyful sound of stringed instruments and singing floats through despite the chill breeze and grayed sky. Dark clouds threaten rain, but the warning goes largely ignored.
The biggest difference between the autumnal equinox and the summer solstice lies outside the way people are dressed, the weather, the music, or even the kind of food being served—which all smells tantalizing. It’s that Ryc walks beside me without the shrouding cover of a drawn hood.
And because of that, too many eyes swing in our direction andlinger.
Thankfully, no one dares approach.
Instead they stare, surprised yet delighted smiles spreading on their faces. Excited chatter sweeps through portions of the crowd. I’m convinced they keep a respectful distance because of Eve and Cyran’s intimidating presence behind us.
Drawing closer to the South Ward square, the number of people in the streets grows outlandish. More people means more eyes, and of course, more of those eyes start to take notice of their Sovereign King walking among them. We’ve barely stepped into the district when the first praising shouts ring through the air.
“May your happiness be our happiness!”
“Erus will stand whole once again!”
Their kind sentiments don’t sound hollow. They sound genuine, and such generosity is strange to hear in large crowds. I find myself fighting the urge to slip into the shadows as Ryc, the graceful, practiced creature he is, accepts the praise with a soft smile. He gives the occasional wave or acknowledging nod, and his people watch him with a reverence I don’t quite understand.
It’s sodifferent from the hells.
There’s no trace of contempt or fear in their faces.
Andhe’sso different from the Sovereign King I saw beside Tanila months ago. No longer a darkened storm cloud, instead, a bright and shining smile upon his face.
Lowering my stare to my feet as we walk, my grip on Ryc’s bicep tightens. There might not be fear among them, but there’s certainly fear in me.
Fear I’ll be recognized.
Fear they’ll learnwhosedaughter I am.
Fear I’ll be met with the same vitriolic rhetoric mortals use when standing before a demon.
And fear Ryc will be forced to defend me from his own people.
Ryc places a hand over mine, peering down at me.
