Solstice Festival
The winter sky opens, stars dotting the blackness above. Streamers hang from rafters, blowing in the night breeze translucent and golden. You've been told they'll all be gone by morning, vanished away with the sun's rising, like so much melted snow. SolGuard in ceremonial robes, deep black like this longest of nights, lead the sunworshippers, old and young, in ceremony. The harvest is over, and all will enjoy the hard-earned fruits of their labor. Now is the time of celebration and togetherness, comradery and feasting.
Now is the time of friendship and firelight.
You sit on a soft blanket by the fire. The first of the night's ceremonies is over, and you've had your fill of the feast. Beside you, Luc begins clearing away empty plates, provoking a sleepy groan from Rem, who lies against him, nearly comatose after the large meal.
"Don’t go. You're soft." Rem throws an arm across Luc's torso, shifting their weight so they're wedged into his side.
"Seems I'm not allowed to move," he laughs.
"I can sympathize." Kel looks down to where [Animal Friend] has curled up in his lap. It's nestled down in the folds of his formal robes, buried itself deep.
Grusk tears off a bit of meat and holds it out, making a clicking sound with her tongue. [Animal Friend]’s ears twitch. It perks up, clambering from Kel's lap into hers, where it consumes the morsel greedily.
The Healer takes the opportunity of his empty lap to rise, accepting the dishes from Luc, while [Animal Friend] messages its paws into Grusk’s robes, leaving claw marks where it kneads. Grusk frowns, and scratches it gently behind the ears. She soon has the beast calmed and curled once more, and it makes pleasant purring noises as you bid them farewell and follow Kel to the central meetinghouse.
The curved walls of the central house have been painted a myriad bright colors for the winter, and decorated with still more curiously translucent streamers—these, you're told, won't melt and vanish overnight like the others, but are made of plant fibres that are thoroughly compostable.
Kel is drawn into conversation with another Healer, and as they speak at length on ancient Forisian teachings, you return outside to circle around the merrymakers. Sunkeeper children run among those gathered, relishing the rare chance to stay up past their usual bedtimes. Ceremonies continue as music pours from the center of the commune, and performers in colorful garments twirl through complex dances set to fiddles and flutes.
You continue your stroll to higher ground, moving up the side of the hill. The music grows fainter, and the firelit dancers appear almost doll-like down the slope.
High above the compound, you find Aja and Ines, huddled together under a blanket beside a partially-melted snowbank.
"What are you doing up here?" you ask.
"It’s quiet," Aja says.
"And warm," Ines adds, pulling the blanket up under her chin.
One of the Sunkeepers' crystalline, multifaceted lanterns, which soaks up the sun's heat through the day to be dispensed again at night, sits between you. You feel warmth radiating as colored lights pulse faintly through the device's latticework.
A festive substitute for a campfire, you think, as you sit down and accept an offered blanket. Far below, you can just make out the outlines of dancers, completing the night's ritual for a peaceful winter
"Do you think things really will be better next year?" Aja asks. "After everything that's happened?"
"I don't know." Ines' face is cast in ever-shifting colors from the lantern's glow. "But if it's not, at least you'll be there."
"Yeah, at least there's that," Aja agrees, her voice soft.
The three of you stay huddled long into the night, watching the continuing ceremonies below, until the sun rises over the hills. Whatever the future holds, you've decided, you'll face it together.