[City Market] A Dreamer's Tales

[Siana Skyglow]

Day 81 of Winter, 509 AV

Limned with frost and festooned with glittering icicles, yet rich in vivid colors, savory aromas and the clamor of hundreds of voices bargaining, beseeching or bantering, the marketplace of Avanthal made for a glorious, bustling spectacle. Dozens of merchant stalls and tents had been set up along the street, offering a goodly array of food, clothing and crafts to the city's inhabitants. Though few traders from other regions have dared to attempt the difficult journey to Avanthal this winter, the local bakers, butchers, herders, farmers and craftsmen have all turned out in hopes of making some last profits before the arrival of springtime in about a week. While the adults meandered from stall to stall in search of necessities or good deals, children scampered to and fro along the street making mischief and looking for interesting wares and familiar faces.

On one end of the market, Plaryn, the grizzled hunter from Iceglaze Hold, conducted a brisk business selling raw and frozen ptarmigan and seal meat. A pair of weavers with blue-black hair loudly advertised their bundles of heavy woolens and bright-hued shawls and scarves, much to the annoyance of their neighbor selling coats and cloaks sewn from fur and animal skins. The mouth-watering scent of sizzling fish rose from the middle of the street, where plump, pretty Klarra busily flipped slices of cod over the flame of a blubber lamp. Near the far end of the market stood another stall with finely carved figurines and ornaments of bone and wood, where Siana stood waiting and watching for potential customers.

She didn't have to wait long today. As she inched closer to the brazier that kept their stall tolerably warm, a young boy of about seven or eight years old popped up in front of their table, drawn to the smoothly whittled figures of animals. Siana grinned and folded her arms. "Can I help you?" she inquired.

"My papa makes better ones than these," the boy declared, scrunching up his face. His colorful woolen hat slipped down over his eyes as he peered at the carvings, never taking his eyes off them. Siana reached forward to pull his hat back up. He accepted the attention unthinkingly, unafraid of a stranger's touch, for no Vantha would harm a child.

"No, I don't think he does," Siana replied, shaking her head. She picked up the figure of an arctic fox that the boy seemed to like most, and his bright violet eyes followed it. Gently, she ran her finger over the fox's back and over the luxuriant tail. "See how perfect the fur looks, how detailed the face is and the paws? It looks like it's on the hunt, doesn't it, stalking in the shadows looking for prey? I bet your papa can't make it look like that."

The boy's face lit up, no doubt imagining the fox doing just that, and his eyes took on a rich crimson tone. Siana's grin widened.

"Yes, that's exactly what he must be doing: stalking the forest looking for prey," she continued, lowering her voice. Unbeknownst to her, her eyes were subtly changing too, from deep blue to a warm turquoise. "Softer than a snowflake landing, he'll creep through the forest, sniffing the air and watching as night makes everything dark and spooky. He'll lick his lips and run his tongue over his fangs. Tonight he has a taste for lemmings, and he hopes he'll find one and snatch it out of the air as it leaps toward the sky. He loves the taste of lemmings, or little birds, or fish. However, there's one animal that he won't hunt, even if he's starving, even if he has no other choice."

"What’s that?" the boy asked, wide-eyed.

"Hares," Siana said solemnly. "He would never eat a hare, ever."

"But why?" the boy demanded.

"Once, when he was but a little pup, still suckling at his mother's teat, this fox decided to sneak out of its foxhole one day and see the world," Siana answered, warming to her impromptu narrative. "His mother had never let him outside before, because she wanted to keep him safe. She always made him stay in the back of the foxhole, where it was warm and dark. His brothers and sisters were happy with this, but this fox was a naughty little pup and he wanted to go toward the front, where everything was bright. Every time he tried, though, his mother would pull him back and he never made it into the light.

"Today, though, his mother was gone hunting for their supper, and the little fox saw his chance. His brothers and sisters cried to him, 'No, no!', but he didn't listen. Quick as lightning, he dashed toward the light and climbed out of the foxhole. The very first thing he did was sneeze! The world outside was so cold; he'd had no idea, safe inside with his family. He wrapped his tail around him and looked around.

Everywhere, the ground felt fluffy and white, because it had snowed only the day before. The air was full of strange smells and he felt dizzy at how much brightness and scent was around him. Then he began to notice near things, like a patch of moss on the ground or the tracks of an animal on the snow. He ran about and yipped, enjoying the freedom and the feeling of his legs propelling him forward. He ran and ran and ran, kicking up the snow around him and having a wonderful time."

The boy listened raptly.

"But suddenly, he heard a noise that made him stop running and cower. It was the screech of a lynx, who had spotted him in the snow. For when he was little, the fox didn't have his white fur yet; he was brown-colored. The same way our hair starts out brown and turns white when we get older, his fur was brown when he was little and turned white later. The lynx that saw him was monstrously hungry, for the mother fox had stolen all the food from her and she'd had nothing at all to eat. It glared at him with its awful yellow eyes and opened its jaws wide. The little fox was frozen with terror. With another screech, the lynx sprang forward, about to snatch him up and eat him for supper.

"The little fox thought he would die, but suddenly he felt himself being lifted in the air with soft paws and wafted away, almost as if the wind itself had picked him up. He looked up and realized a snowshoe hare had picked him up and saved him. The lynx tried to chase them, but it stumbled and fell in the snow, while the hare ran lightly over the surface.

"'You saved me! Thank you!' he cried, full of joy and thankfulness.

"'Yes, I did,' said the hare, 'even though you are a fox and your kind eats my kind.'

"The little fox suddenly felt ashamed. 'Why did you help me, then?' he asked.

"'Because you reminded me of my own little ones, when you stood there facing the lynx,' the hare said. 'That lynx ate my children too, and I couldn't do anything to save them. When I saw you, I knew I couldn't let the evil lynx eat another innocent child.'

"The little fox thought for a moment. 'You could have let me die, but you didn't,' he said at last. 'If you bring me home, I will make you a promise. I will never eat another hare again. I will not end their lives, after you were brave and kind enough to let me live on.'

"The hare was satisfied that he made the right choice, and he darted back toward the foxhole, where he left the little fox. The fox returned happily back to his brothers and sisters in the foxhole, where they welcomed him back with joy. All his life, he remembered that kind hare who saved his life. The noble fox never again hunted hares, because of the promise he had made when he was a pup."

The little boy was beaming, and from behind him came the sound of soft clapping. Siana looked up and saw his mother standing at the boy's shoulder. The woman smiled warmly at her. "I think we'll buy that fox now," she said in a gentle, musical voice. "After that, my son won't ever forgive me if he can't have it."

Siana beamed and handed the figurine over the boy, who regarded it with reverence. "That will be two silver mizas, thank you."

Soon after, the boy hopped away happily with his mother holding his hand and the fox in the other, while Siana watched and listened to the sound of the coins jingling in her hand. She felt good. She always felt good when she had an opportunity to practice her art and help her family profit, and the market was the ideal place for that.

Suddenly, her heart dropped when she saw a familiar figure proceeding down the street, clearing a path due to the size of the polar bear he rode. It was the young man from the Icewatch that had caught her eye only a season ago, making his rounds through the city. Coins forgotten, she lifted her gaze and drank in the sight of his fine features, long dark hair caught in a river of finely linked braids, and his clear, far-seeing eyes. She wanted to run out and ask his name; she wanted to hide inside the stall until her heart stopped hammering. She wanted him to look at her, and yet she knew she'd die if he did. Silently, she stood and watched as the Icewatchman passed by without turning his head, as calmly as he'd arrived.

Inside her mind, Siana started to invent another tale, this one just for herself. It was a romance, with a handsome young guardsman and a young maiden, who changed his life and made him fall in love with her simply by telling him a story…

[Siana Skyglow]

As Siana continued to watch the young guardsman riding through the Frozen Falls marketplace, her heart nearly stopped when she saw him break into a smile. Her first thought was that she had never seen anything so beautiful. Her second was the question: What had prompted that reaction from him?

Following his eyes, Siana soon saw the answer. Her heart, ever volatile in his presence, plummeted down toward her stomach. He was smiling at a young woman hurrying to greet him; more than that, he was sliding off his polar bear and hastening toward her as well. Scarcely daring to blink, Siana watched as the guardsman embraced the young woman and kissed her on the cheek. They talked and gestured for a few minutes before the guardsman jerked his head toward his waiting polar bear, likely indicating that he needed to resume his rounds. The young woman laughed and gave him another hug before bidding him goodbye. He mounted his polar bear again, his face returning to the expressionless mask it had been before.

Having seen what lay beneath that mask, though, Siana already yearned to see it drop again. Her ever-poetic mind compared his brief smile to a sudden shaft of sunlight illuminating the overcast day, only to wink out and leave darkness in its place. When the guardsman rode out of sight, Siana turned to regard the young woman who had coaxed out that glimpse of sunshine.

Her jaw dropped. The woman was beautiful. Her uncovered hair was a black so true that it gleamed blue when light touched it, matching the current deep indigo hue of her long-lashed, almond-shaped eyes. Taller than Siana and willowy, she moved with a grace that nearly moved Siana to despair. And her smile! If the guardsman's smile had been like a sunbeam, then hers was like the glowing moon on a dark night, a bright beacon whose sheer radiance could drive you mad.

While these overblown similes flew through Siana's fevered brain, the young woman was wandering from stall to market stall. Her arms were already laden with shopping bags, which meant she'd probably spent all day at the marketplace. As she glanced briefly at the wares offered on either side, her face lit up when she saw the rows of carved figurines that Siana's brothers had made.

Siana steeled herself as the woman approached her stall. She would not grimace at the sight of that too-lovely face. She would not reveal the pain she felt in front of the rival who was causing it in the first place. In her best saleswoman's manner, she asked politely, "Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes, indeed," the young woman replied forthrightly, with another dazzling smile. Her voice was vibrant and musical. "I'm looking for a present for a loved one. He always tells me that every year I give him the same things, so I want to surprise him this year with something different. Something pretty rather than practical, you know?"

Despite herself, Siana smiled, recalling how her father would make similar affectionate complaints when presented with another year's worth of knitted hats or mittens on his birthday. "I know what you mean. Men are awfully hard to find presents for, aren't they?"

"Oh, yes," the woman agreed, nodding vehemently. "For years, I gave him a new pair of boots, because he wore them out so fast, or whetstones, until I realized how long they last. As much as I love the man, I may never forgive him for making my wrack my brains for something to buy him!"

Almost fearfully, Siana asked, "Is the present for the Icewatch guardsman that just passed by?"

"How did you know?" the woman exclaimed. "Oh, you must have seen us talking a few minutes ago. Yes, it's for him. When I saw all the little carvings lined up on your table, I thought surely he'd never expect me to give him something like this. Besides, I've often seen the guardsmen wear or carry little carvings as good-luck charms, so I thought it'd be appropriate."

Siana nodded numbly. Of course, he would be in love with a beautiful young woman like her, and she with him. What madness had made Siana think he would ever look her way?

"Let me see what I can find you," she told the young woman. She averted her face, pretending to be inspecting the shelves of wares. Her body moved stiffly, not from cold but from heartache, as she bent down to find the carving that she had kept back, in hopes that the guardsman might come to visit her stall one day. Carefully, she lifted it from its felt wrapping and laid it on the table for the young woman to see. It was a snowflake, the symbol of Queen Morwen, crafted delicately and meticulously in whale bone. The young woman smiled in radiant delight when she saw it.

Automatically, Siana touched the snowflake on the table and said, "Now, this is no ordinary snowflake. For you see, there's a special story behind it…"