The festival of knowledge

The short reign of Thancred was over. Runo’s great keep lay in ruins, the once-great walls of the castle crumbled, a shell of its glorious past. King Ranulf had positioned his lapdog upon the broken throne, but a possible rebellion was never far away. 

Across the Traitor’s Bridge lay the town of Cristal, famed for its bread. The wheat was good in this part of Runo; the valley sheltered the grain from the hot summers and the frost of winter, and the rain that ran down the hills served to quench the crops. The houses spread out evenly along the main street, each grand in design and carved from the wood of the great Pana tree from the forest of Panahq. The local Cristal stone, far too valuable to build houses from, could be found in the mills grounding the wheat from morning till dusk. Worshipers from all around Erosil were here to pay homage to the Goddess Tyzta and her gift of knowledge. But this year it had been different. Ranulf’s Rat, the Lord Balwens, had put a levy on the festival, leaving all but the wealthiest of revellers able to attend. 

Dreyma’s father was a merchant who had foreseen the untapped potential of selling Runo’s grain. He had once been a miller himself and had made a handsome living from it, but nothing compared to the rewards he and his daughter enjoyed now. Dreyma was his only child; when her mother had passed away, he had seen fit to put her in the hands of the Uplifted. 

She was a beautiful child, much smaller than her peers with long thick wavy black hair, big brown eyes, and a long slim nose that turned up when she laughed. Dreyma could barely remember her mother, the only recollection was the locket her father had given her, which held a picture of Dreyma’s family. On this day, Dreyma’s Father, Dannet Fireblood, had come home to take her to the festival. Dreyma looked from her room and saw her father’s cart racing through the gates of the Mother House. 

Dreyma bounded down the staircase to greet him, running into his arms as he jumped from his seat. He was a mountain of a man, six feet tall and half as wide. His log-like arms swept the tiny ten-year-old up. “Starlight, you blind me so, how much you have changed in this short month!” he said as he rubbed his nose on hers. 

“You said that last time!” Dreyma scolded. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he informed her, putting her to the ground and turning to reach for a package. 

“What is it?” the young girl asked eagerly. 

“Starlight, you need to be patient.” He smiled, handing her the present. 

Grandmistress Typhenon, the head of the order welcomed him. “She has been looking out for you every day since you sent word.” Typhenon was not unpleasing to the eyes: she was a tall, thin statue of a woman. Her long twig-like fingers would comb Dreyma’s hair at night and her soft cheeks would be on hand if Dreyma needed comfort. 

“It’s a dress!” Dreyma exclaimed as she ran into the house to try it on. 

The Grandmistress pulled Dannet to whisper in his ear. “I am glad I have got a chance to speak with you. We have had news from Jacarcia. The King has decreed that all religious orders must withdraw from Runo by the third harvest.” 

“What about Dreyma?” Dannet asked as Dreyma returned swirling around them in her new dress. 

“You must be a father to her now. She cannot come west with us: there will be no place for her.” The Grandmistress seemed saddened by her words. 

Before he could respond, his daughter tugged at his coat. Dannet pressed his hand around Dreyma’s back affectionately. “Come on, little Starlight, the festival awaits its most precious jewel.” As they pulled up to the castle, the music, much more muted than previous years, could still be heard from the grounds.

A guard met them at the gate, his armour, although grand, was scratched and dented. “You have to pay to get in!” he barked. 

“I have payment here.” Dannet held out the bag of coins he had prepared earlier, which the guard promptly snatched away. 

“Alright then, on with you!” the guard commanded. The courtyard was sparse. Straight ahead, a man and a woman danced on a stage of straw and wood, dressed in long silk shirts and balloon pants with medallions dangling from their hips. The crowd roared at them, jeering them as they tried to avoid the coins that were thrown at their feet. 

Dannet averted Dreyma to the right towards a group of well-garbed children. They were gathered around a performer perched awkwardly on a wooden stool. They listened with interest, barely moving or making a sound as the storyteller finished. Dreyma struggled to see what the entertainer looked like as taller children stood in the way. The voice she heard was sturdy but soothing...