Ava's Chronicle - Elation
The fire-baskets were hanging from their poles in the festival ground that had been prepared in the center of the clan's camps, several hundred meters of tundra transformed by lights, decorations, sounds, and smells. Dozens of other fires burned, ranging from small cooking fires to huge festival fires, around which people danced, talked, laughed, traded. Every clan in the Peninsula nation was present, some three thousand individuals, all intent on making the most of the next five days.
The weather was damp, and the sky was a dark, undulating sheet of low clouds, spitting rain occasionally. The rain and chill did very little to dampen the enthusiasm of the assembled Matari. Avlynka, wearing her new embroidered dress, her hair decorated with all manner of brown and red wooden beads, sat beneath a simple canvas awning, playing her recorder. To her left, her sister sat, likewise wearing her Midsummer best, playing one of her flutes, several others displayed proudly before her, being offered for sale or trade.
Much to their delight, Jonn had wandered off somewhere, leaving them in relative peace.
The pair finished a song, and Avlynka set her recorder down and took a drink of her tea while Sukki spoke to a young child from the Late-Rise clan about how to play her instrument. The little boy nodded as Sukki showed him the tone holes, and explained how moving her fingers allowed more air to escape, thus changing the pitch. Avlynka laughed at his expression, the blank one that just screamed, “What?”
Soon, it became a team effort, as both Sukki and Avlynka explained to the boy, who was soon joined by his father, how their instruments worked. Periodically, a young man, his naming mark still dark, quite new, would walk by and smile at Avlynka, and perhaps listen to her play for a moment before wandering on. After all... they had five days. No need to make such a decision too quickly.
A thin young man walked over and stood quietly nearby, watching Avlynka and Sukki as they played a short demonstration for their curious visitors. Avlynka saw him after a moment and glanced over, then took a longer look a moment later. He was about her height, actually, so quite short for a man, with shoulder length hair, black like hers. His rather reserved naming mark was done in a delicate pattern of flowing, curving blue and black lines and shapes, and he wore a rather plain leather tunic over a pair of brightly decorated wool pants, representative of the Deep-Moon Clan, capped off with plain leather boots. He had a few simple pieces of jewelry-a simple brass bracelet and a thin silver ring-and was, all in all, she thought, quite handsome, in a very simple, unassuming way.
Instead of walking past, looking, and smiling, as all the other young men did, however, he walked over and politely said, “Hello.”
Avlunka smiled up at him and brushed a stray strand of damp hair out of her face. “Hello there.” she said quietly. It was then that she noticed the small jingle drum he was holding in his left hand.
“Mind if I join you two?” he asked, his tenor voice betraying just a hint of nervousness.
Sukki smiled and answered quickly. “Not at all. Sit.”
Avlynka moved over a bit, to make room for him on the blanket, beneath the awning, and he and Avlynka read one another's marks. His skin was dark, darker than hers, quite a nice match to his jet black hair and deep brown eyes, she though.
“Pleasure to meet you, Uro.” Avlynka said, bowing her head a bit.
“Nice to meet you, Avlynka.” Uro replied, returning the bow.
He set a beat, and the three played several pieces, from a traditional, and somewhat silly, birthday song to a more melancholy tune normally played before a battle. They received some attention, but not much-what they were doing was hardly out of the ordinary, for that place-and then, after perhaps a half an hour of music, Sukki placed her flute in her pocket, stood up, and said, “I'm gonna go look for Mom... see what we're doing for dinner. See you later.” She gave a rather obvious wink to Avlynka, and then bowed her head a bit to Uro. “It was nice to meet you, Uro. You play well.”
With that, Sukki walked away quickly.
Avlynka watched Sukki walk away as the butterflies welled up in her stomach; she was, for the first time in her life, alone, socially, with a boy, a boy who she knew was just as nervous and uncertain as she was. They may have been “adults” in the eyes of their clan, but the pair were both young and uncertain, and under a lot of pressure to find a match; if they didn't, it would be 1,353 days, almost four standard years, before the opportunity would arise again.
Avlynka took a deep breath and turned, changing positions to sit facing Uro. He followed suit, shifting a bit to get further under the awning, out of the rain that had intensified a bit. “Well...” he said, laughing a little bit, “... the weather certainly is “Midsummerish”, isn't it?
Avlynka nodded, smiling. “Yep. It's alright though... not like a little rain ever hurt anyone.”
He looked down nervously, smiling. “Yeah.” He idly fiddled with the laces on his boots, then his bracelet, much like Avlynka was doing with one of the beads in her hair.
Tarja walked towards them and did her best to hide a smile as she bent down, beneath the awning. “Hello there... Uro.” she said, reading his mark, “Avlynka, we are going to be eating over under the big awning with the Lehtonens. Come eat... and Uro, you're welcome to come eat with us.”
“Alright.” Avlynka replied. She turned to Uro. “Want to come eat dinner with us?”
“I'd like that.” he replied quietly, his cheeks red, but smiling from ear to ear. He lay his drum down on the blanket, next to Avlynka's recorder, and together they ran, through what was now a downpour, towards the large awning across the festival ground.
Tarja watched them run off, leaving her behind, and laughed. She liked him.
The rain drummed down onto the canvas awning, and most of the people standing around inside, or seated on the folding chairs, were soaked to the skin, but no one seemed to mind. Families that had not been together for the whole year talked and ate, consuming large quantities of pale, home-brewed beer and cider. Avlynka and Uro sat on folding chairs, next to Avlynka's parents, talking as they ate, listening to Avlynka's grandfather tell a story about swimming across the fjord, to prove he could. Avlynka looked at her mother, who smiled and shook her head, confirming that, yes, it was in all probability, a lie.
“That's quite a mark.” Uro said quietly, in between bites of bread, looking over at Avlynka. “I don't think I have seen anyone else with their Voluval on their face.”
She shrugged. “Well... I don't know if I deserve it...” she replied, looking down at her plate.
Uro smiled. “Well... it suits you.” he whispered.
Avlynka nodded, embarrassed at the burning she could feel in her cheeks. “Thanks... um, I like your naming mark.” she said after an awkward pause, looking up at him. “It's pretty.”
“Oh...” he replied, laughing. “Just what a guy wants to hear... that he has a “pretty” mark.” He sighed and dipped his bread in the gravy from the meat, taking a bite.
“It suits you...” Avlynka whispered, smiling. “...it shows off your eyes.”
Avlynka and Uro finished their meal, and Tarja shooed them out of the awning. “Go on... no need to listen to Grandpa. You know he is just going to say the same things he said last summer. Go.... go for a walk, or something.”
Avlynka looked out from under the awning, at the rain still falling steadily. “Umm...”
“Go on. You two are young. You'll be fine.” Tarja insisted.
They did as they were told, and walked across the festival ground in the rain, stopping and peering under awnings and into kenkii, looking at the various things people were offering for sale or trade. Each Clan in the Peninsula seemed to have a specialty; the Star-Fire, for instance, were renowned as leather workers, whereas the Deep-Moon were known for their woven blankets and clothing of wool. They each purchased a few small trinkets, mostly small bits of jewelry or decorations, and shared a piece of fresh cobbler beneath another low awning.
“Ah!” Jonn called out, walking towards the two young Sebiestor standing beneath the awning. He was wet and muddy, but from his grin, was having the time of his life. “Avlynka! Hello! Ah, and who, may I ask, is this fine young man, hrmm?” he bellowed.
Avlynka sighed and rolled her eyes, that universal “whatever” symbol made by girls of all cultures across space and time. She flashed Uro a weak smile, and said, “Uro, this is Jonn, an... anthropompous from the Tribal Council. Jonn, this is Uro, from the Deep-Moon clan.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Uro said, offering a slight bow of his head.
“Likewise, Uro.” Jonn replied, politely-amazingly to Avlynka-returning the bow. “I hate to break up the fun, but Avlynka, your mother and father asked if I would come shoo you towards home... it is quite late, you know... although, meh, since the sun doesn't set, I would suppose you don't...”
“Alright, alright.” Avlynka replied, waving her hand at him to go away. “I'm coming.”
Jonn nodded and headed off towards the Surionen's kenkii, leaving Avlynka and Uro to say their good-nights. “Um...” Avlynka said. “I really had... a lot of fun.” she said quietly, nervously.
“I did too.” Uro replied, smiling. “A lot.”
Avlynka shrugged a little. “So... will, um, I see you again, tomorrow?” she asked.
Uro nodded. “If you want to. I think I would like that.” he replied.
She did her best to hide her smile as she said, “Um, I should go... goodnight, Uro.”
“Goodnight, Avlynka.” Uro said as she turned to walk, slowly, towards home. He watched her walk until she had to round a corner, and disappear behind a row of kenkii and awnings. He smiled, ate the last bits of cobbler off the plate, returned it to the vendor, and headed slowly towards his own family's home.
On the way, Avlynka stopped to pick up her recorder, and noticed that he had left his jingle drum there, right next to it. She smiled as she collected the instruments, along with Sukki's flutes, and headed towards home.
Maybe she wouldn't need to worry, after all.