Festival of Tears - Entry
Tiril, the workaholic Cidabel City Administrator, learns an important lesson about life during the Festival of Tears.
The canopy of familiar deciduous tree gave way to a carpet of soft sand as a crowd of lorunes frolicked happily in the soft splash of the waves. Lounging by the water's edge, Tiril felt the cool spray of wind-born mist trickle down her sheer legs. How exhilarating..., she mused as her muscles, usually taut from overwork, melted away under the summer sun. Normally she wouldn't skip work for such frivolities like the Festival of Tears, but the clamoring of friends to see her in a bathing suit and spend the day's entirety by the water ultimately won the day. “Who could blame them~”, She said smugly to herself as she flipped a wayward strand of hair from her eyes so she could better focus through the sun's glare.
For all of the glare, the scene felt like something from an idyllic teenage summer day. Beside her, was her childhood best friend Selenia. Whether she was using her book as a sunblock or just engrossed into reading it, she had apparently fallen asleep with it planted on her face. This presented a golden opportunity for the bratty neighborhood girl Eliana to partially bury her in the sand. Normally Tiril would never turn a blind eye to such mischief, but she knew whatever scheme Selenia would come up with in retaliation would be highly amusing – and definitely something NOT to miss.
Sipping cool fruit tea flavored with Fever Lilac, Tiril noted that the only cloud of her day was seeing Sibylle strolling along the beach. It was quite plausible that it was a chance meeting to chose this exact spot to enjoy the holiday, but Tiril was not so naive. Clearly foul play was likely afoot. Sliding a hand reassuringly under her towel to touch a hidden water pistol, Tirl knew that she would be ready for whatever Sibylle was plotting. Yet for all of Tiril's preparation, she was immediately caught off guard.
As a set of hands shielded Tiril's vision, “Who could blame who?”, sounded a familiar playful and melodic voice. Her vision now dark, an intoxicating fragrance immediately filled her nose, inviting Tiril to stay in the sweet embrace. The embrace was short lasting and as her vision cleared, Tiril found herself back in her office. The only fragrance that lingered was a celadon vase of lilac roses on her desk. The flower vase, itself, a stalwart monument among papers strewn about.
“Of course, how could I be so foolish...”, Tiril resigned herself. Picking up her quill pen, the City Administrator continued working on a ledger. The short nap had distracted her from her duties, and there was much to make up for lost time. Her mind no longer clouded form her brief nap, she recalled the event earlier in the day that yielded her current situation. The neophyte priestess Yve had come into the Administration office with a list of the clergy's demands to be accomplished for the festivities. It was easy to begrudge the clergy for their constant demands, but they meant well. Beside, if Tiril didn't do it, who would? “The capable are always in demand and in short supply”, she signed. While her heart was set on enjoying the day for once, she had relented. The taste of her Fever Lilac flavored tea from her dream still lingered on her lips – yet....there was a job to do. Mechanically she went to work on the stacks of paperwork before her.
Many minutes of fervent scribbling passed before Tiril experienced her first distraction. A loud rapping sound echoed from beyond her office door. "Madame Councilor, Madame Councilor~", the voice called out. Tiril ignored it, leaving only silence. Eventually the voice withered away, much to the Tiril's delight. Perhaps an hour passed before a more furtive knock echoed throughout the office. "Madame Councilor!", the voice called excitedly. Already annoyed working ledgers for post Festival cleanup, the shrill was enough to unseat Tiril's perfect hair. "What is it NOW? Can't you see that I'm busy working?" she snapped at the disturbance. "Apologies, but the Staff was inquiring if you would join us in the square to see-", the staffer managed to answered before being cut off. With a simple and resounding "NO", Tiril rearranged the misplaced strand of hair without even pausing from her work. The finality of her response did the trick, there was no response. Not even a cricket chirp could be heard.
Many minutes passed before Tiril's concentration was tested again, this time by the sound of a gathering outside. Whether due to the heat or her growing annoyance, Tiril fanned herself and stormed out of the office seeking the perpetrators. This is the last straw!, she snarled as she made her way through the empty Administration building. Thrusting the entrance doors open, Tiril beheld Cidabel Administration staff and towns folk congregated in the square. Spirits were lively as all eyes focused on the brilliant display in the sky above. As meteorites sparkled the night sky, so too did Tiril's hair illuminate.
"Mother Moon's grace....", she whispered to herself, also entranced by the sight. It occurred to her that perhaps there was more too life than one's career. If her dream was any indication, then perhaps Mother Moon was trying to tell her to enjoy these precious moments with friends and loved ones. She could almost imagine Mhyon nodding happily at her revelation. Perhaps its best to just focus on the moments. Moments like this, she thought. Lesson learned, Tiril's usual obstinance and loneliness gave way to a wave of comradery and joy. Overcome in the moment, a song taught to her by Aurelia spontaneously lifted to the heavens from her lips. The unexpected burst of song was a surprise to the onlookers, but were too quickly swept up in the ambiance of Mother Moon's blessing. As Tiril's song ended to a resounding chorus of applause, Tiril managed a brief smile of embarrassment before saying, “OK-enough wasting time. Back to work!" The gruffness in her voice was clearly a ruse, but she refused to admit otherwise. Although the day was coming to a close, it was emotional. Whatever treasures the future held, Tiril was eager to enjoy the Festival of Tears with those she loved next year.