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Winter Before Journey [Short Story]
Topic Started: Mon Dec 26, 2016 8:25 am (1,682 Views)
Ahkrum
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The festivities of Udana Sambhoga Mutry, the week-long celebration of Winter and the absence of the fragile pixies who detested the cold, had just begun and was already in full swing. For the Hagaan of Spiderhaunt Woods, it was a celebration of victory over their enemies, for having gone another year surviving their attacks, of killing their sworn natural enemies. Buda Capata Enaram, essentially drummers trained in making music from the bones of their enemies, beat on the skulls-turned-instruments of pixies with their harvested tibias, riding the highs of the pixie dust that had been stored throughout the year for this very season. The collective music of the Buda Capata Enaram reverberating throughout Ivah'galagaj. All throughout the city, Hagaan partied, danced and sang, found one another in loving embrace of all calibers. Every year they survived was a good one, and deserved celebration.

The smell of freshly cooked meats that had been successfully hunted for, and some even imported from medium-large humanoid cities, filled the enclosed Hagaan city. Feasts were at every table, comprised of a variety of foods all chopped down and divided to sizes that the fae could actually eat. Ales and wines were shared freely, most of which was spilled from celebratory toasts to all things that they proved gleeful and truly thankful for.

Revelers were dressed in the wings and smaller bones of pixies, fashioned into sparkling masks, capes, headdresses, belts, and other large and loud adornments, with some even using the pixie wings as large and extravagant fans for elegant dances. It was a sign of their victory over the invaders that refused to stop hunting them, even into the Spiderhaunt Woods. Though each year there seemed to be fewer pixies to kill, each year they simply celebrated more, seeing an end to the onslaught, to being that much closer to achieving peace within their home. Perhaps one day the celebration would be void of fresh pixie parts to celebrate with, but until then they would party for a week straight with what they had every year, and only once the parts were no longer available so fresh would they concern themselves with the grandest of substitutes.

"Cheers, all, to another year where pixie blood stained webs!" Sembuda Akan, the Tukada Havi'Gal, draped in the sparkling wings cut from pixie backs, announced from the stage to the gathered members of Ilok Aracak who had fought valiantly throughout the year. The response from all of them was as exuberant as all of the years prior, but this one was special as their leader turned to face one Asivah'drok Enacot in particular, placed at the nearest table for just this occasion, "And of course to our one and only Ilatup, Santap'ta Ahkrum, who has decided to abandon our struggle against the winged bastards for the wide world! Breathe deep the pixie dust, my friend, because you'll struggle to find any more in your travels!"

The Ilok Aracak laughed in unison at their fellow soldier, masked and caped in damaged pixie wings collected from the kills that struggled the most against his hooked chained axes. He almost choked on beetle meat in trying not to laugh with them, resulting in a short coughing spasm that only seemed to make their laughter grow louder.

"Oh, but if I find any, I'll be sure to try and get everything from their bodies!" Santap'ta shouted out once he caught his breath, eliciting in cheers from his fellow personnel who all lifted up their mugs and slammed them down in unison that sounded out with a collective thud that for a single beat drowned out the sound of skulls, but in turn seemed to also encourage them to play even more energetically, not to be outdone by increasingly rowdy soldiers.

"Oh, you'd best, or else we're not allowing any pixie dust when you return to visit!" Sembuda bellowed in a faux condescending way.

"Visit? You all? I'm leaving to escape you dumb bastards!" Sentap'ta replied, to more laughter from the people he considered closer than even family.

"Says the man who dived headfirst into a swarm of pixies, just to hit the ground facefirst below them!" Sembuda retorted quickly.

"I was just building rage to slaughter them all!" The Asivah'drok Enacot defended himself quickly.

"Ah, right, that must have been it!" The Tukada Havi'Gal laughed, and all joined him, "Well, we can't let that memory go without something! We've a gift for you, you-- you crazy, crazy, Hagaan! All rise and show proper respect to the Kakaraja!"

In a drunken and surprised stupor, the collective Ilok Aracak rose to their feet, some falling to the floor as they fell out of their own seats only to quickly assume attention before the leader of the city. The Kakaraja stood at the back, leaning against his staff and with a cloth draped over his left arm, a cackling laugh escaping past his teeth at the sight as he slowly approached Ahkrum's table.

Ahkrum and the fellow Ilok Aracak who had been at the table with him, knocked each other over by accident in their rushed scurrying, hitting the ground with force and rising only to act as soberly as they could with the approaching of the Kakaraja towards the guest of honor.

"Asivah'drok Enacot Santap'ta Ahkrum Pasuna Ilok Aracak, for your service to your Force and for this City, for serving diligently in my name, and for your bravery against the pixies that threaten us, I, Icasavs Durg'handhi, Kakaraja Pasuna Ivah'galagaj, present to you the Elelatahp, created to honor your service for the Hagaan here!" The elderly fae held out the cloth, a blood-red cloak with a large hood, the kind of which he had been informed Senap'ta Ahkrum favored, and carefully did the Asivah'drok Enacot accept this reward-- no, this gift, from their very leader, "This cloak has been dyed and enchanted with the blood of pixies. Its effects, if any, are unknown even to I, but I trust that in your travels ahead that this will help you, somehow, some way. Wear it in pride, my soldier, for all of us that you have fought for, and may your journey prove bountiful in adventure."

"Thank you so very much for the thoughtful gift, my Kakaraja!" Ahkrum quickly bowed his head, his heart filled with joy though he did his best to retain composure at such a rare occasion.

"Now, lift your head. Udana Sambhoga Mutry can hardly be celebrated with it bowed! All of you, drink, feast, and be merry!" The Kakaraja shouted out to a response of overjoyed cheers and all, including Sanp'ta Ahkrum after he clumsily donned his new cloak over his winged costume, rose their drinks, or food, or whatever they had available, in toast to their leader.
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