A Solstice Festival: Changing of the Seasons

“I hope I don’t get too hot in this leather vest,” Leominor fretted as he ran his fingers through his beard and long curly hair.

“Are you sure about that jacket?” Kit’s questioned, “You don’t want the men in the audience to get the wrong idea.”

He glanced down at the sheer caftan adorned with pressed flowers along the bottom hem and sleaves. Leominor laughed, “Not sure what you mean Kit. It pairs nicely with the dress you’ve chosen.”

She twirled, sending the sundress made of sunflowers flying around her. “It is a special occasion.” It was nothing like the sweaters, and patched pants Kit normally chose.

“You look very nice.”

“Do you think people will laugh at my ears?” her face flushed.

“Most people have never seen a Firbolg before, and they probably haven’t seen a fox-fey either, but once they hear our music it won’t matter.”

“Are you bringing your bag?”

“Of course.”

“What if someone steals it?”

“No one is going to steal it. We are setting up near the guard stand so our friends can listen.”

Kit shrugged, her bronze face glowing with mischief. “Do you think Viola will come?”

Leominor chuckled, “I’m sure Viola will come.”

“Do you like her?” curiosity creeped across her face.

“She is a princess of the feywild; we live in a cabin in the woods.”

“So. You could still like her.”

Leominor gathered his lute, and packs, “Come on, the festival is starting soon.”

Together they made their way through the crowded streets. The morning’s rain rose as steam from the cobblestone. People gathered outside stands and shops.

In the park center, the fey tents formed a circle beside the guard stand.

“Here is a perfect spot,” Leominor set his packs on the ground and opened his lute case.

“Yes, let’s play Maiden, Soft and Rare.”

Her kiss is sweet as morning dew,

Her eyes the softest shade of blue,

She wears a dress of emerald-green,

And for me she is quite keen.

Oh, Maiden soft and rare,

There is beauty in the air.

I’ll hold you in my love and care

Oh, maiden soft and rare.

A crowd clapped and sang along; all the while coins dropped in the lute case.

After a few songs Viola met them, “That was lovely! You two are talented.”

“Thank you,” Leominor bowed.

“That song was quite lovely; did you write it for a maiden?”

“I wish I could take credit, but it’s a famous summer song. Seemed fitting for the solstice.”

Viola couldn’t restrain her disappointment, “Oh, it is a lovely season, one of many reasons I chose to embark on realmspringa, after many years of longing to see the seasons change and feel the warmth of summer.”

“What’s the feywild like?” Kit wondered.

“The winter realm is cold. Lots of snow. Everything is white, even people’s clothes. It is—depressing.”

Kit shared a surprised glance with Leominor.

“Don’t fey usually speak highly of their home?” Leominor questioned.

Viola shrugged, “If they like it, they do I, guess. I have decided to stay in the common realm. I’m telling mother after the festival.”

“The common realm is great; you will love it!” Kit beamed.

“Shall we enjoy the festival?” Leominor changed the subject.

“Games?” Kit’s tail wriggled with excitement.

“I want to play this one!” she pointed at an axe throwing stand.

Leominor looked at the competition: three burly men, each with bulging muscles. He could smell their sweat from five yards away. One wore bear skin and another a hooded cloak. They weren’t exactly dressed for the heat of summer. He studied Kit, her eyes pleading with him from behind her wire rimmed glasses.

“Do you think you can beat them?” he asked crouching to her level.

“I know I can.”

“Those axes weigh as much as you do,” he chuckled, “I bet there is a child’s g—”

“No, I want to do this one; I’m not a baby.”

A particularly gruff dragonborn man laughed, “Little fox girl thinks she can beat us, I’d like to see her try,” he spit on the ground behind him, “Or maybe flamboyant firblog will win her a toy from the kiddie game.”

Leominor removed his hatchet from his belt, “Sir.”

The elven man who ran the booth eyed the hatchet. He looked punny next to his patrons and had a noticeable scar on his eyebrow, “Yes, can I help you?”

“She would like to play, but the axes are too big. Can she play with this hatchet instead?”

A man with a braided beard, bald head, and broad tattooed shoulders roared, “This game is for men, not little girls. We will make her cry.”

“Then don’t go easy on me,” Kit scowled which crinkled little nose.

The men howled with laughter.

“Sir, there is a child’s version of the game, that might be more suited for–”

“I’ll pay double,” Leominor pulled out two silver pieces from the tips in his lute case. “Just let her use my hatchet instead of the axes.”

The elf whispered, his hot breath on Leominor’s collar, “Sir, if she loses or gets hurt—”

“She isn’t a crybaby; besides I can heal her,” Leominor handed Kit his hatchet.

The elf raised his unscared eyebrow and shrugged, “Very well, alright gentlemen and young lady, the rules are simple each of you has an identical target. Your score will depend on where your axe hits. No points if it hits and falls out. You have three throws. Highest score wins three silvers, and a pint of ale.”

Kit was shocked, “Ale?”

“For you a frozen cream.”

Kit nodded approvingly.

Kit’s throw stuck on the outer ring.

“Do you always let her do whatever she wants?” Viola asked Leominor.

“It’s ok just take a deep breath when you aim,” Leominor coached Kit as the elf collected the axes and returned them to each contestant. Leominor turned to Viola, “What do you mean?”

“This isn’t exactly an appropriate activity for a little girl.”

“Kit uses a hatchet all the time in the woods.”

The second throw stuck in a middle ring just below the bullseye. Kit’s tail flicked and ears twitched in frustration. Leomninor knew she wanted to swear and was holding back the angry muttering. “You’ve got this Kit, just let go a little higher.”

She pushed up her glasses and drew a deep breath. The thuds of the men’s axes hitting the board didn’t rush her. She threw the hatchet. The small crowd that had formed to watch the little girl take on the strong men collectively held their breath, as the hatchet wedged itself into the bullseye, they let out a loud cheer.

The elf cleared his throat, “Congratulations, let’s give her a round of applause!”

Two of the men stormed off, but the man in the cloak hung back, “Congratulations, wee warrior.”

The voice was familiar. The goliath man lowered his hood reveling his identity to the crowd.

Leominor immediately recognized an old friend. “That’s my friend Purhan. When he was injured, Kit would challenge him to hatchet toss.” He explained to Viola.

A halfling boy in the crowd shouted, “That’s one of the knights! That little girl actually beat one of the king’s knights!”

The crowd whistled and roared for the tiny victor.

Purhan grinned, “I can tell you have been practicing. Where is your guardian?”

Leominor stepped forward as the crowd dispersed, “Purhan! Old friend, imagine seeing you here!”

“I see they let any no-talent bard sing in this town!” Purhan laughed and hugged Leominior, “She practiced!”

“Everyday.”

“It shows!” Purhan placed an enormous hand on Kit’s tiny shoulder. “I’ll see to it you get your iced cream with berries!”

Kit ran over to Viola who congratulated her warmly.

Purhan scowled, “Who’s that?”

“Viola, Princess of the Winter Feywild.”

“How does she know Kit?”

“We interrupted in a robbery outside the gates,” Leominor began to explain, but the elf ran around the counter.

He handed the prize money, “Enough for iced cream. If you wouldn’t mind chatting outside. Others are lining up to play.”

“Thank you for allowing her to play.”

“It was a nice change of pace.” The elf returned the hatchet, “Often it is the brawl of a sore loser that draws a crowd, it is nice to see something heartwarming.”

Purhan checked that Kit and Viola were out of earshot marveling at flower crowns, “If Kit is to get better, she must defeat those inner voices of doubt. They pose as big a threat as anyone searching for her.”

Leominor nodded, “We are working on that.”

“So where is that iced cream?” Kit called licking her lips.

“Lead the way!” Leominor called back.

Purhan whispered, “Be careful of the winter fey. They have a reputation for deals with high prices.”

Frozen treats finally secured, Viola asked Kit, “How do you know a Goliath fighter?”

“He is one of the knights we healed at the end of the great war.” Kit responded matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t know you two went around saving people.” Viola laughed “It is a pleasure to meet you, these two rescued me earlier today.”

Purhan examined her extended hand but didn’t take it. “They didn’t rescue me.”

“Leominor said you would have frozen to death if we hadn’t taken you into our cabin.” Kit took a big bite of berries and cream.

“Is that so?” Purhan turned to Leominor, who shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Probably true but needn’t be said. Still, I’m indebted to you.”

Leominor waved his hand, “Oh you would have done the same, if things were reversed.”

As the sun set beneath the horizon, lanterns were lit all around the city.

“Mother said to be on stage just after the lanterns are lit.” Viola took Leominor’s arm.

Purhan patted Kit on the shoulder, “Well, wee warrior, I am needed at the guard tower.”

“You aren’t going to stay for the ceremony?” Kit’s face filled with concern.

“Sadly, I cannot, though I will be able to see it from the tower.” He pointed to a tower at edge of a row of shops and houses that overlooked the park of the city’s center. “See you later, old friend.” He patted Leominor’s shoulder and disappeared into the crowd.

A rabbit knight greeted the trio at the base of the amphitheater. “Princess Viola and her Champion Leominor shall be seated in the Winter Court under the white canopy.”

Leominor scowled, “Kit must be seated with us.”

“I’m sorry, she isn’t in the winter court.”

“Then I shall stay with her.”

Viola shook her head, “Sylvester, isn’t there something we can do?”

Sylvester thought a moment, “Kit shall stay with me and the captain of the guard.” Leominor followed his finger to box seat stage right. “I hear she is familiar—"

A paladin in her mid-thirties appeared, “Do I spy Kitera?”

“Kat!” Kit squealed, ran over and was scooped up into a giant hug. “I won the axe throw! I beat Purhan by 1 point!”

“I’m sorry I missed it. We need a rematch.”

Leominor felt the tension in his shoulders ease, “Are you sure Kat? She is my responsibility.”

“I’m positive. Go enjoy the ceremony, take a break from your guardianship, I will defend her with my life.”

Leominor nodded reluctantly.

“You know the captain of the guard? Do you know everyone?” Viola asked as they took their seats.

“Far from it, we live deep in the mountains, I’ve never set foot in this town before. The captain is another knight who fell into our corner of the forest.”

He could feel her studying him.

“Are you alright?” she cupped his face in her hand. “You seem—distraught.”

“I—promised to never let Kit out of my sight. What if—"

“It is a festival, nothing bad will happen. Look at all those happy people.”

“Good evening citizens of Wakefield,” the king of the city proclaimed, “Tonight we celebrate the shortest night of the year. As we mark the changing of spring to summer with this wonderous summer solstice, so too must we mark the turning of the Fey Emperor Supreme.”

The crowd enthusiastically applauded until the king raised his hand to quiet them. “For those of you too young to remember how this ceremony works,” the crowd laughed. The festival only happened once every quarter century. “We will be appointing the new advisor from the Feywild. Tonight, the Spring Realm represented by their lovely princess will pass this responsibility to the Autumn Realm represented by their courageous prince. However, our first speaker is none other than the Queen of the Winter Realm, Marza.”

Marza’s elegant white dress shimmered among the bright colors of spring and autumn.

“Wakefield, many years ago, your king and I were friends. We met in the halls of Realmview Academy. There we made a pact, should we have the honor and responsibility of ruling our respective realms, we would have an alliance. Today I spoke with your king, and he did not keep his word. So, I am left with no choice.” She waved her hand, sending an icy breeze through the crowd.

The winds formed a cyclone in hillside amphitheater, sending shivers through the audience. As the gusts blew, tiny, winged ice sprites armed with sickles appeared, and beings of pure ice, and snow began to blanket the ground in white. Screams of panic echoed off the walls, as the audience ran in terror towards the street stage left.

On the stage, the winter guards began to attack the other realms’ guards.

Leominor sprang from his seat and leapt from the stage.

A behemoth man stepped in front of him, “Traitor!” He bashed Leominor hard against the side of the stage, before continuing his escape.

Pushing against the flow of the crowd, many more tried to slow his progress.

When he finally broke free, I could see the knights leapt down from the box and were fighting the overwhelming force of sprites, guards and elementals. His heart raced, let her be ok. Then he saw arrows raining on sprites.

He ran to the back of the box, it was about five feet off the ground. “Kit! Get on my shoulders!”

She peeked over the railing, “What took you so long?” She climbed aboard, bow still drawn.

Even blocks from the amphitheater winter was upon them. He ran through the streets south of the city’s center park, ducking through alleys until he found the open door of an abandoned tavern. Pitchers of ale were foaming on tables from the patrons who had fled for their lives.

Kit climbed off his shoulders, “What are we doing here?”

Leominor wheezed, “Hiding, you aren’t as light--”

“There is a battle out there, we have to help,” Kit scowled at him, “Besides it’s not like you are the same as when we met.”

“I only meant you are growing up. You aren’t a toddler; you are a child now.”

She shrugged, “So, we are going to fight?”

“Not in a sun dress you aren’t. You’ll freeze, as will I in this summer outfit.” He opened his pack and handed Kit one of her many woolen sweaters and pants. “It’s not perfect, but it will keep us warm.” He unrolled a black wolf skin cloak and draped it over her, “Back on my shoulders. We will head further south, try to get out of the city, fight as we go.”

Kit raised her bow, “Let’s go!”

He ran a few blocks as Kit fired arrows at sprites they passed. When suddenly he was hit from behind by a snowball. The force knocked Leominor down. A yeti towered over them. It chuckled and then slammed its fist into Leominor’s chest. The pain felt as if he were being ripped open. From the ground Leominor sent arrows at it, but they didn’t pierce the thick fur. As it closed in on him, he clapped his hands and sound of thunder rang out. He imagined anything that could bring the yeti down; the howls of wolves circling the giant creature. Kit was still firing arrows furiously at the thing, he rose and did his best to do the same. But a giant fist sent him flying backwards as the world faded into black.

His breath caught in his throat, short sharp breaths he could see in the air. His chest burned and his ears rang. Blinking his eyes awake he could see snow still falling, but the screams and the blasts were silent now. He slowly sat up and found a familiar panic; where was Kit?

Scanning his surroundings: Ice, snowbanks higher than in most winters Leominor had seen, stained red. None moved, none breathed. When his eyes found her, his heart shattered. Still covered by the wolf skin cloak and clasping her bow, an arrow still notched. His physical pain melted, and he collapsed at her side.

“Kit?” he scooped her into his arms. He patted her, touched her cheek. Her skin’s brilliant bronze, replaced by ghastly gray. “Why?” he wailed. The pain, physical and emotional tore through him.

He barely noticed the first light of the sun rise glimmering over the icy land. The light grew brighter, and brighter, and brighter than it should ever be, blinding him though his eyes had never left the child in his arms.

As it brightened, the pain of his body faded.

He found himself standing beside the gates of the southern wall near the inn. The sun rays peeked from behind a cloud soft and warm drying his face.

“Leominor, where we going to get ready for our performance?” the warmth of a tiny hand clasping his; the child’s voice, the sweetest music he’d heard.

Something strange happened; it was as if time reset granting him a second chance. “Kit!” he scooped her up in a hug.