It was always a time of excitement when the troupe of bards would pay a visit to our village. Several days of festivity would ensue upon their arrival. They would always arrive on almost the exact same date each year - preceded by the sighting of a large, colorful bird one of them kept as a pet and would send ahead.

As soon as the bird was sighted, the preparations would begin. Hunters were sent out to ensure a full, hearty feast while cooks would get to work baking and preparing their best dishes. Bookbinders prepared large tomes in which to memorialize their tales, tailors kept busy ensuring all looked their best. Children and teenagers who desired futures as bards rehearsed in earnest their own songs and tales, while the rest were tasked with seeing individual homes and the village itself was tidied and then decorated.

Nobody minded the extra hard work on top of their usual chores. Such festivites came but once a season. In winter there were the Solstice celebrations, in spring a day and night of celebrating once the fields had been tilled and planted, and then in autumn for the harvest. But for the summer - it was the few days and nights the bards would spend in our village.

I was amongst a group seeing the last touches of décor set up when a pair of voices could be heard shouting from the direction of the road. We spun about as a moment later, one of t two boys tasked with watching for the troupe darted past us as he called out their arrival. We wasted no time in making our way toward the road.

Quickly, the entire village had gathered, most forced to try and observe around other individuals. As I watched some crane their necks in order to see, I felt almost guilty about the place of honor upon a small dais - accorded to me as the future intended of our leader’s son. Almost.

Then as always, I felt the flutter of excitement as they came within sight, welcomed with a simple song of our own bards-to-be. As they stepped up to greet our leader wit many flourished bows, my eyes flickered to an odd spot of stillness amongst them, and soon discovered why.

Enigmatic amongst his companions, an elfen a few years my senior stared openly in my direction. I felt myself blush brightly, and knew there was no way to hide it, as fair as my skin was. But still, I managed to dip into a polite curtsey as my future fiance and his father returned the bows. Then everything was lost in a blur as everyone began to move about. Some went to fetch large blankets to sit upon as more still went to fetch prepared food. As per tradition, the afternoon meal was held off for their arrival, and they were invited to sit amongst us upon the blankets and dine while our own performers entertained us all.

All throughout, I felt the penetrating gaze of the enigmatic elfen. Occasionally, I could not help but to glance his way, often finding myself under either my mother or father’s disapproving gaze. But it wasn’t enough to stop me from trying to figure him or the recognition I felt out.

Slowly, as night fell, and fired were lighted, the dais was given over to the troupe leader. “Ladies and gentlemen, we thank you as always for your most kind and warm welcome,” he made an exaggerated bow to a smattering of applause. “I am sure you have all looked forward to our usual performances of song and tale, but I regret to inform you, you must wait a day more!” Noises of disappointment rose from the gathered mass as a mischievous grin spread over his features. “However! This is because we have decided to accord the honor of the first night’s performance to one individual. Some of you may recognize him, others may not! He has been missing from our ranks these past five years after making his journey through the Portal of Fate.” Great silence greeted this announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Spiritsinger Ashric!”

Suddenly, there was a form at his side that bowed low, and I was forced to feel embarrassment anew. The enigmatic elfen was the young boy Ashric that I had always dreaded to see because of the way he and his friends tormented me years ago. Ashric flashed a dazzling smile to his audience as he picked up his mandolin. As his fingers seemed to dance over the strings, we soon found that he was lost to our vision. He had stepped back out of the firelight, and instead we were presented with brightly colored lights that soon sprung unto various shapes that moved fluidly to tell the tale of his song.

The illusions changed as one song flowed into the next. But I came to recognize a common them amongst them - a fair-haired dancer with long legs. Sometimes she appeared as little as to be a passing glimpse, but even amongst the most stoic and stodgy of moments in the songs, her movements were never less than that of a graceful dancer, each movement seeming only to be part of her own intricate dance.

Then, caught up as we all were in the illusions, we all jolted a little as they disappeared along with the music. They’d seemed to be all moving toward some sort of conclusion that never came. There was a long, heavy silence - broken by a loud explosion of light and color above our heads. As we gasped in surprise and wonder, more colorful explosions shot up in the air - some closer than others.

In all the noise and excitement, we didn’t notice as the troupe slipped away to return to their camp for the night. Even still, there was a buzz of excitement as we began to clean up for the night. On the trek home, my best friend Lydi hurried to my side, her arrival announced as always with the flutter of her wings.

“I know you always say no, Dyvia, but as your best friend, you know I always ask. Are you going to sneak out with the rest of us to the camp?” She looked at me as she awaited the answer, though there was no actual anticipation in her expression.

Another tradition - albeit an unspoken one - was for the younger villagers to sneak down to the camp at night after the bards had left. It was filled with rowdier, sometimes bawdy tales and music - and lots of dancing. Something there was very little of in our village, and none at all in my oh-so-proper household. I’d gone just once in my life. The year I had turned tend, the others decided I was mature enough to handle going, though they expected they’d have to carry me back later as they assumed I’d doze off soon after arrival.

But I proved them all wrong. Weary as I became, I kept my eyes open all night long, and managed to get home under my own power in the last couple hours before dawn. But when I was treated the following morning to stern lectures on propriety and ‘how a lady aught to behave,’ I quickly vowed to never go again, as I feared my parent’s disapproval.

“Actually, I will go,” I stated firmly, to Lydi’s surprise.

“Really?!” Her wings fluttered in excitement. “But… what about your parents? And… Vaen? Doesn’t he sort of look down on the sneaking out too?”

“He does… But I don’t care. I mean… we’re getting married this fall during the harvest festival, even when we’ll only be officially engaged after my eighteenth birthday next month. I should be allowed to have a little fun before then, right?”

She grinned impishly at me and nodded her agreement. “Right! I’ll come around and meet you when we get ready to head out, okay?” She fluttered off as we came in sight of my parents as they waited on the porch.

“And what was that about?” My mother arched a brow at me questioningly.

“Oh, you know Lydi. Always trying to get me to sneak out, no matter how many times I say no.” I feigned a small yawn. “I’ll put these up in the morning, I’m exhausted…” I deposited the basket and blanket I carried onto a table as I wished my parents good-night and went to my room.

I made slow work of my nightly ritual of letting down my ebony hair, studiously brushing out the curls, and pulling my hair back into a braid. But tonight, after I washed up in the small basin before my mirror and heard my parents turn in for the night, I didn’t change into my nightgown. Instead, I pulled out a brightly colored summer dress. It was one of my favorites, but I was rarely allowed to wear it because its length left my knees and legs exposed - something else that was extremely inappropriate in the eyes of my parents and my intended.

As I finished lacing it up, there was a light tap at my window. Lydi waved at me eagerly as I hurried over and quickly climbed out. She and her brother Lonni helped to carefully lower me down to the ground from the second story, then quickly took off toward the group of kids and teenagers as they left the village.