Timestamp: 50th of Autumn, 514 A.V.
Location: Elysium Hall
The bright Autumn day had swiftly passed the baton to the encroaching evening, which in turn had surrendered it to the onrushing cloak of night that was even now bearing down on the celestial city. The sky burned redder than blood at the bow wave of its advance, glowing crimson against the fadeong leaves still clinging grimly to the trees.
Around Elysium Hall and the top tier of Tenten Peak, normally quite quiet at this bell, there was a hive of activity – workmen and servants and Shinya guardsmen all forming a sort of living maelstrom around the glittering skyglass mansion that was Alses’ residence – and the setting for her Bonfire Ball.
Everywhere one looked, there were people, busy and purposeful, as the appointed time for the festivities to commence drew inexolerably closer. Whole trees had been stacked like cordwood on the lawns of Elysium Hall, piled into an enormous bonfire that just awaited the exuberant fireball to burst into joyful life, and the staff were laying out long tables that would, in a few chimes’ time, groan under the weight of food and drink.
Glowing chips of skyglass had been suspended in the trees or made to line the curving paths that snaked up through the parkland towards the main house, a pleasantly-lit primrose path that, happily, led to good things rather than bad. That was the plan, anyway.
Off to one side from the main staging area, so to speak, where the majority of the guests would gather and mill, there were the fireworks and, most crucially, the intricate glyphic arrangements cut into the turf as fuses, orchestrating an elaborate display that would burn in the skies over Elysium Hall for a good two bells, maybe more – a beacon to all and sundry, even if they’d not noticed the posters and invitations all over the city.
Not noticing would have been a difficult proposition, though; the colour-drenched announcements had been scattered through the city for a while now, their rich colours and intricate design catching the eye. Alses had used the same artist as had done her calling-cards and invitations, and the young woman had surpassed herself.
Quite aside from the posters, with their burnished flames and formal figures dancing around the beautifully-ornate text, she’d also issued personal invitations – scores of them, in fact - to friends, acquaintances and important people all over Lhavit, and not just the mages, at that.
It promised to be a glittering occasion, attended by many of the best and brightest – or at least, the great and good – of the skyglass city, an evening of laughter and song whilst fireworks lit up the night and the fire blazed in earnest imitation of Syna’s solar blaze.
Hopefully, people would simply have fun, too.
Alses, inside her home and jittery to the nth power, paced restlessly. Her gown – the same dupioni masterpiece she’d worn a few seasons ago, all copper and crimson and gold, the colours of autumn, whispered and sang about her when she moved. A complex network of pins secured the outer reaches of it, diminishing its profile and making it rather more suitable for gliding over the gravelled pathways and lawns that would host the main part of the party, and under it all were her trusty boots. Polished to a high gloss, yes, but still her favourite boots, practical and comfortable.
There was a diffident knock at the doors; nerves jangling, Alses whirled, on high alert. In the event, though, it was only Silver, unflappable and perfect, bulking reassuringly in his best tailcoat and providing a wonderful stabilizing influence on the whole train of affairs.
“Good evening, your grace,” he said smoothly, gliding across the floor to join her in her anxious pacing. “I just came to report that we’ve finished laying everything out and the staff and Shinya are standing by for when the first guests arrive. The gates are standing open, as of-” he opened his watch for a moment, so as to be scrupulously exact “-three chimes ago, so if you’d perhaps like to come down to the portico? It’s a nice evening still, after all.”
Alses sighed, rolling her shoulders to try and get rid of the tension that had seized her muscles. “Very well, Silver, very well. Let’s go.”
A
True to Silver’s word, ranks of tables were arranged close to the house – with a wide berth for the bonfire, and all of them were groaning under what Alses’ auristics assured her were fine foods indeed. All the bounty of the Sharai – and the Misty Peaks beyond – lay in succulent piles on rank upon rank of silver salvers: roasted meats, fresh vegetables, the finest of the autumnal fruits, all of them combined and cooked according to the consummate skill of the resourceful Lhavitian chef to make novel delights for the tastebuds.
Alses’ household was still small, and so temporary staff had been hired for the occasion. They waited – quiescent, if that was the right word – at intervals, poised and ready for action, as per Silver’s exacting instructions, the pristine white of their outfits almost painfully bright in the slowly-fading light.
The bonfire itself towered blackly towards the darkening sky, the wood darkly pregnant with possibilities, heavy with hanging fire, and the rapidly-cooling breezes made Alses shiver as she skirted it, hurrying her step as she made for the fireworks section.
There, it was the work of a moment to speak the triggering word and watch pale fire race along the glyphs, flashing towards the mountains of pyrotechnic equipment that the starry city’s philterers had produced, ever since she’d first laid in the order.
Five chimes hence, and the first of the fireworks would go up, blooming in brilliant bursts of colour and light high overhead, whilst Alses herself would be glittering and shining at the doors of Elysium Hall, an earthbound star – at least for a little while, until the end of the sunset took her glorious form away from her – that would be very, very hard to miss.
