Page 105 of Raven's Dawn
That was the only word for this. Fae solstice festivals were enchanting.
When I heard festival, I thought of something like a county fair. It was, really, just in an ethereal way. Kids were playing, yelling, and laughing. Rather than a Ferris wheel, there were dragons and pterolycus rides. Like Renaissance festivals, music flooded the atmosphere.
Although there was no sword swallowing, Fae of the flame spun fire into balls, climbed into it, and did acrobatic tricks that I wouldn’t be able to name if my life depended on it. In one particular show, in a square where four streets met, all four elements merged into one. From one road came an of the Wave Fae, rolling in a water droplet down the street. Down the second street came a man in a ball of fire. From another, a woman of the Zephyr bloodline arrived. Rather than a water droplet, though, she rode into the square atop a small tornado. On the last street, a woman stood, waiting for the others.
When all four of them met in the middle, she shook the ground beneath our feet. A platform rose in the center. The other three, still wound in their water droplet, and ball of fire, and little tornado, began the most intricate dance.
They twisted and twirled around one another, until it was impossible to tell where one element ended, and another began. All four of them combined into one, so synergetic and synchronized. Perhaps for the first time, now that I felt that magic within me, I was understanding the Fae.
Graham had been my best friend for almost as long as I could remember, so I always thought that I knew them. He was from all five bloodlines, after all. Who could be more in touch with this world than he was? And myself, by extension.
How wrong I was.
If I hadn’t synchronized with the magic of this world earlier today, I would’ve witnessed this as just a pretty sight. What a grotesque, simplification of an immense and intricate culture.
Now, walking the city streets, sipping Fae wine, eating creamed honey bread, watching the people coexist with the world around them, creating art from it, I felt it. The power of this place hadn’t left me. I prayed it never would.
It wasn’t the power itself that I loved. It was the understanding it provided. The all-encompassing sensation of comfort. Like those ravens that flew overhead almost everywhere I went, an ethereal energy wrapped itself around me, reminding me I wasn’t alone. Reminding me that I was safe, that I had it on my side.
I wasn’t the only one enjoying this party. Ezra had already drunk an absurd amount of Fae wine and couldn’t stop giggling. Especially not when he and Warren shared a dance in the center of a cobblestone square, serenaded by an orchestra of guitars and violins. They danced beside people like them. Men who loved men, and women who loved women, and people who identified as both or neither who loved people just like them.
Ezra was always hesitant to publicly display his affection for Warren, and I knew how much it hurt Warren. He’d gotten better with it as time went on. Still, there’d been occasions when we’d gone out in public, and some asshole looked at them wrong as they walked a bit too close. He always rushed to pull away. Warren never said anything, but there was always a certain sadness in his eyes afterward.
Here, they could dance together. They could simply be who they were.
Graham and I danced, too. Just as Amara promised, he enjoyed the dress she gave me. Made sure to say so about ten thousand times. He was right to find it beautiful. It was floor length, the most enchanting shade of crimson, tight through the waist to accentuate my curves, but flowing and sheer. No corset, which I appreciated, but still just tight enough to show off my most valuable assets. Plus, it was comfortable.
Admittedly, though, my favorite part had little to do with how it looked and much more to do with how much my guys liked it. I liked getting dressed up as much as the next girl, but I loved the attention they gave me. Shoot me if that sounded narcissistic.
We danced, sang, and drank all through the day. By nightfall, my feet were tired, but I had no plans of sitting down. Not when Graham was showing me, Warren, and Ezra how to do a traditional party dance. I tried my best, I really did, but there were so many movements with the feet that I just wasn’t coordinated enough for. Something with a kick, which resulted in me bruising Warren in the shin, whose pain we all felt.
Laughing so hard that my ribs hurt, I clasped a hand over my face. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, are you now?” Warren spoke through gritted teeth, but a smile teased the edge of his lips. Hopping around on his left foot to prevent putting pressure on the right one, he made his way to me. “Usually, a meaningful apology is not accompanied by laughter.”
“It’s the wine,” I insisted, still laughing. So were Graham and Ezra. “I don’t think your pain’s funny. I feel it, and I know it sucks, but?—”
“But nothing.” He grabbed me by my ribs and hoisted me in the air. After he tossed me over his shoulder, and I laughed harder, he smacked my ass. “Apologies don’t come with laughter!”
“Put her down,” Ezra said between cackles.
Spinning me in a circle, as if the wine wasn’t making me spin enough, Warren said, “We’re just having fun.”
That we were. Even if my belly was starting to spin along with my vision.
“I don’t think she wants to be put down,” Graham said. “And I am not minding the view from down here.”
More laughs, some from me, some from the others, cut off by a throat clear.
Warren practically dropped me. He barely made it to my hips in time to steady me. “I wasn’t—We were just fucking around?—”
“It’s cool.” Jake stood behind him, shoulders hunched, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst everyone dressed in their Fae attire. Turning to me, he managed a smile. “Was just hoping I could have a dance with my sister.”
“Yeah, of course.” I smiled, too, as awkwardly as he had.
The last time we talked at any length was an argument. We needed to resolve that. And the fact that I was inebriated could help.
Or it could hurt.