The air was permeated with the sharp smells of flash-powder and aromas of roasting meat. The night sky was powdered with its usual innumerable fog of shimmering stars. Herahn gazed into the boundless sky as he lay comfortably in the cool, soft grass covering the hill that stood vigil over the village. He was just above the blazing glare of the festival fires; the dewy hillside was dark between the colorful flashes of fire bundles being launched into the air and cascading like diamonds of light. He was far enough away that the happy and lively sounds of the festival mingled with the sounds of the night in the forest behind him. He shifted, re-adjusting his arms beneath his head in the damp grass and sighing heavily. He should be down there with his friends, darting between the crowds and nabbing food too close to the edge of a feast table when no one was looking, laughing and joking. He should; he loved the Summer Festival, but he was torn. He knew she would be down there. As always, at the thought of her, his whole consciousness was filled with the her scent, the perfume that invaded his thoughts and filled his cracked heart with longing. He scolded himself for being foolish. How did he know what she would say? How did he know that she would reject him? He didn't, but... Why wouldn't she? His throat ached and the back of his eyes tingled from the seething waves of frustration. No, he wouldn't go down there. He wanted to be alone; he liked the quiet, watching the flash-powder filled fire bundles burst. Herahn's gaze turned back from the night sky and the new moon to the village down the hill. He could see the people roaming the cobble causeways, between the houses and stalls full of exotic food and trinkets that traders had streamed to the village to sell. He inhaled deeply and issued another heaving sigh, but he didn't feel the air enter and leave his lungs; his throat ached and his chest was full of sand, slowly pulling his heart apart and sinking deeper into oblivion. He was jolted into reality by the brushing of careful foot falls ascending the hill. Was it... No, he wouldn't hope; it hurt too much.
"Herahn?" a jocular voice called up the hill.
Herahn pushed down his disappointment; it was Ge. He had probably been dispatched to find him. Herahn wanted to be alone but wouldn't shun his friend.
"Yeah, I'm here." he replied tiredly. He could practically hear Ge's relieved grin,
"Figured you'd be here." He kept his warm and joking air despite Herahn making it painfully obvious he was not in the mood. "Why're yah up 'ere, huh?" he moved to stand over Herahn, who didn't move. His grin grew wider under the blue grey glints of his eyes in the dim light. "An' quit with the sad eyes 'cause I didn't come up 'ere to play mum and ask yah all yer problems."
Herahn grinned slightly despite himself; Ge had a way of doing that. "Then why are you here?"
Ge kicked his side lightly. "To kick your sorry arse all the way back down this damned hill."
Herahn's mood turned stormy again. "Nah man, I think I'll just stay up here." He tried to convince himself that was in fact what he wanted.
"But yah love the Summer-Fest! C'mon, yah baby."
"Really, Ge. I just want to stay here, I'll... I'll be down later; I promise." Herahn's chest and throat ached more than before as he refused.
Ge sighed exasperatedly. "Fine! But if I don't see yah down there by midnight, I'll bring Dram n Feddick an' we'll drag you down on your bare arse an' throw you in the nearest barrel of mead an' not letch'you out till you're smashed as Figgin!" And with that Ge tromped back down the hill.
Herahn's face wrinkled in self directed disgust. He should have gone back with Ge, but now he would wallow in self pity until they came and locked him in a barrel of mead. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the festival and the forest, felt the cool air kissing lightly on his face, smelled the damp of the grass and the hints of the festival on the wind. He wasn't sure how long it was, but he heard another set of foot steps ascending the hill. He remembered Ge's threat and jolted awake; he quickly crawled through the tall grass up and over the ridge of the hill and out of the sight of the village. The footfalls persisted, but before he called out in premature surrender, he noticed the steps were lighter than Ge's, and that whoever it was had come alone. It couldn't be, no. Ge didn't; he wouldn't.
"Herahn?" a kind voice called out.
Panic shot through his veins. He had. It was her. He would kill Ge. He would beat him senseless the next moment he saw him. He still heard the soft whispers of her fur boots stepping through the grass.
"Herahn?" she called louder.
He swallowed the soreness in his throat. "Kyin? I'm over here."
The soft treads quickened and she appeared over the crest of the hill.
"Ah, Ge said you'd be up here; you seem to talk to him a lot."
He sat still in the grass. It was darker over the top of the hill so all he could see was her silhouette, outlined in the red orange glare of the festival fires below. Her hair waved slightly in the breeze and her bulky boots looked out of place with her lighter summer clothes. He shook himself back to the here and now. "Yah, he'd be the one to ask I suppose." He sat there silently plotting his revenge on Ge.
Kyin shifted from one foot to the other then hesitantly stepped forward and sat down next to him.
"So... Hi." Herahn mentally slapped himself for saying something so stupid.
"Hey..." she giggled and Herahn thanked every star in the sky individually that it was too dark for her to see him staring at her.
She was staring at him with those beautiful green eyes, "So why aren't you at the festival?"
He was snapped out of his stupor as he noticed something peculiar about her voice. "I uh... I just liked the calm up here..." He looked at her more closely. "Say, Kyin, what drinks do they have down there this year?"
She grinned shyly in the dim light. "I dunno... You know I don't usually drink, but Ge convinced me to try something that tasted sweet, then he told me that you were up here and it's a shame that you weren't there to enjoy the party."
Herahn nodded slowly. "Well how nice of him to think of me..."
The picture was coming together.
Kyin giggled again and swayed slightly. He couldn't be sure but he thought for a moment that she batted her eyelashes at him.
"Yeah, he said he was worried about you and that you probably needed someone new to talk to."
Herahn couldn't believe what Ge had done. He had stormed back down the hill after Herahn had refused him, sought out Kyin, whom he knew Herahn had feelings for, gotten her bough-legged drunk and sent her up his way. Kyin was still staring at him mischievously. "Do you want to have fun, Herahn?" she asked slyly. The tone of her voice caused Herahn's eyes to turn to saucers. No, he wouldn't take advantage of her like this, but his mouth moved of its own accord, "Y-yes..."
Kyin's face broke into a drunken smile. She hiccuped, "Heh, yah know..." she leaned in close to his ear, the grass rustling beneath her dress, and whispered into his ear, "I've always thought you were pretty cute..." Herahn could smell whatever sweet alcohol Ge had given her, but he had barely acknowledged it when her words hit him. He tried to open his mouth to interrupt, but she continued. "Yah know, Herahn, we don't need the festival to have fun..." She kissed his ear and giggled drunkenly again.
Herahn knew that he should refuse, insist that she was drunk and that they could talk later, but his restraints melted away at her seductive tone. He slowly turned his head to meet her eyes. Her face was close enough to his that he could feel her warmth; he could see her sparkling green eyes. His mouth opened and he tried to respond, but she didn't give him the chance. She pounced on him and locked her lips with his. He fell backwards into the cushioning grass and the world exploded. Her mouth was as sweet as her breath and her tongue darted in and out of his mouth. Eventually he overcame the shock and embraced the kiss, Kyin straddling his hips and relentlessly tugging at his clothes. Herahn's reason and morals dissolved; he felt a moment of disappointment when she finally pulled away, but she didn't move. She reached to her chest and began unbuttoning her dress.
Down in the village the festival continued, all but Ge, ignorant of the entwined lovers over the hill. A red haired older brother named Figgin was slumped over the bar of a mead stall staring at his drink. His friend Ge walked up behind him and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Hello there, Fig, yah filthy drunk!" His ever present jocular grin was wider than usual. Figgin wondered why for a moment then decided his drink was much more important than speaking. Instead he grunted in acknowledgement and focused on balancing on his barstool.
Ge could tell that his friend was far past his share of drink, but that was normal. "Waddyah say we find some sorry lass that is drunk enough to kiss that ugly face?"
This wasn't any more than the regular teasing between him and Ge, but maybe it was the mead talking but he'd had enough.
"Piss off, Gerard." his voice slurred heavily and he tipped his mug again, the familiar alcohol burning down his throat.
"Aw, c'mon yah big-" Ge put a hand on Figgin's shoulder and he turned with drunken rage in his eyes, one thick arm threw Ge backward into the side of a brazier brimmed with burning coals. The coals crackled as the weight of the
brazier shifted and spilled out onto the ground.
Ge leapt to his feet to avoid the flames but a stall had already caught from the blazing tongues of fire. Gerard and Figgin looked at each other in panic and fled down the nearly empty alleyway.
Herahn held Kyin in his arms, there bare skin brushing together in the dark of the hillside. Clothing was strewn about in the grass around them, and Kyin's dress was their blanket. She was sleeping soundly, and his heart was full and complete, he could not believe the night he was having. It was hard to keep the smile from his face. He could feel her breasts against him and her legs entangled with his. Her perfume filled him and made him dizzy with giddiness. Herahn's thoughts were turned away from the bliss of the moment as he noticed a change in the sounds of the festival rising over the hill. He heard screams and shouts, panic was spreading through the village, but why? He carefully pulled himself from the tangle of Kyin's dress and peered over the crest of the hill. He shivered at the cool breeze on his bare skin, and his face contorted with horror as he gazed upon the village. Great tongues of flame were rising from a cluster of houses and people were streaming towards the fire with buckets and barrels. He hurried back to Kyin and shook her awake. "Kyin, the village is on fire! C'mon!"
She was slow to rise but when she heard his words her eyes shot open. Then hurriedly gathered their clothes, Kyin was clearly sobered up by now but said nothing. They then ran down the hill and back to the village.
An hour later the hungry blaze was extinguished, after consuming seven houses and twelve people. Kyin clung to Herahn's arm as they stood with everyone else, watching the grieving of those who had lost family. The crowd looked around as a voice rose between wracking sobs, "There she is!"
People parted until the accuser had a clear line of sight to Kyin. "I saw her start the blaze! The drunken bitch kicked over a coal bed right unto me house!"
Herahn could not remember the woman's name but knew she had been married to the village healer.
"She's hated my husband since her parents died from the wasting!"
People were starting to turn accusatory gazes on Kyin. Her parents had died three years ago from sickness when the healer couldn't save them.
"Kyin didn't blame anyone for her parents deaths!" Herahn heard himself shout back at the woman. He felt a pressure in his head. He wouldn't let them blame Kyin for this.
The grievers glared intensely at Kyin, and some of the crowd turned a suspicious look as well; she said nothing. Grief is a terrible thing; it hurts all it touches, and spreads like a contagion, one way or another.
Anger was palpable in the crowd around them. The alcohol that had flowed through the festival was still strong in the veins of the village, and sense was in short supply. Herahn felt strong hands on his shoulder and a hard fist impact the back of his head. He heard Kyin scream and ten he knew nothing.
Herahn awoke to a red dawn silhouetting Kyin. He smiled but then his eyes focused and he could see the rest of the image. She was tied to a scorched timber that still stood from one of the destroyed homes. Fire bundles were piled around her legs. Herahn inhaled and tried to call out but an iron grip clamped over his mouth. "Shhh, calm down, man," Ge's voices lingered in his ear. "She's just one girl."
Herahn's eyes widened and he struggled furiously, but Figgin and Dram held him still. Kyin's eyes were blurred with tears, and she silently caught Herahn's gaze. He tried to cry out as the woman raised a torch and condemned Kyin, but Gerard's hand stayed firm. Her perfume seemed to fill the air, suffocating him.
The blazing red dawn seemed to turn to blood as the torch fell. Kyin uttered something that no one would ever hear as the flash-powder ignited and she was consumed in searing diamonds. One shimmering ember leapt from the blaze and seared its way into Herahn's soul.
