Page 214 of The Ascended
"Gone before dawn," Nuri said, settling into her chair by the window. "A fishing expedition with some of the men."
A pang of disappointment shot through me, though I tried not to examine it too closely.
"He promised to return for the evening festivities," Amara added, clearly reading my expression.
"Oh," I said. "That's... good."
Nuri's knowing smile made me flush. I busied myself with my drink, pretending not to notice.
The day passed in a pleasant blur of preparation for the solstice celebration. I was put to work, helping to prepare special dishes and decorations that would be used in the evening's festivities. Dara and Davi followed me around when they weren't being shooed away by their mother, asking endless questions about Saltcrest, about Xül, about my powers.
"Can you make a big star?" Davi asked for perhaps the tenth time, his eyes wide with fascination. "Like, big enough to ride on?"
"It would burn you to cinders before you got anywhere near it." I explained, kneading dough.
"Awesome," he breathed.
As sunset approached, the household transformed—special clothes were brought out, faces painted with intricate designs, hair adorned with beads and tiny fresh flowers.
Amara found me in my room, where I'd retreated to adjust the clothing I'd traveled in—a poor choice for a celebration, but all I had.
"This won't do at all," she declared, eyeing my attire with dismay. She disappeared briefly, returning with a folded bundle of fabric in rich blues and purples. "Mena is closest to your size. She said you may borrow these."
The garments were beautiful—a flowing dress with embroideryalong the hem and sleeves, and a shawl of finely woven fabric that shimmered subtly in the light. I protested weakly, but Amara was insistent.
"It's the solstice," she said, as if that explained everything. "Now, sit. Your hair needs attention."
I let her work it into an elaborate style with small braids woven through the loose waves, adorned with white flowers from the garden. When she was finished, she stepped back to assess her work.
"Better," she pronounced with satisfaction. "Now you look like you belong."
The words sent an unexpected pang through me. I didn't belong here, no matter how much I might have wished to. Soon we would return to Voldaris, to the Trials, to the brutal reality waiting for us there.
As if reading my thoughts, Amara's expression softened. "Tonight, at least, you are one of us. Try to make the most of it."
The celebration began as the sun dipped below the horizon. The village center had been transformed—lanterns hung from every available surface, tables laden with food lined the edges of a central square, and musicians had set up near a wooden platform that served as a dance floor.
The entire village seemed to be in attendance, from infants to elders, all dressed in their finest clothes and adorned with flowers and paint. I stayed close to Amara's family.
And then Xül was there, appearing at the edge of the gathering just as the first stars became visible in the darkening sky. He'd changed as well, wearing a simple but elegant tunic in deep blue with silver embroidery at the collar and cuffs. His hair was still braided in the style Nuri had given him, small wooden beads, replacing the gold ones he always wore.
Our eyes met across the crowded square, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. He made his way toward me, acknowledging greetings from villagers with nods and brief smiles, his gaze never leaving mine.
"You look..." he began when he reached me, then seemed to reconsider his words. "Different."
I raised an eyebrow. "Different good or different bad?"
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Just different. I'm used to seeing you covered in training bruises and scowling at me."
"I do not scowl," I protested.
"You absolutely do," he countered, his eyes traveling over my borrowed dress and adorned hair. "But not tonight, it seems."
Before I could respond, Teller appeared, clapping Xül on the shoulder. "There you are! Come, both of you. The ceremony is about to begin."
We followed him to where the villagers were gathering in a circle around a shallow pool that had been constructed in the center of the square. Floating in the water were dozens of small clay bowls, each containing a candle surrounded by flower petals.
Nuri stepped forward, her face solemn as she raised her hands for silence. When the crowd quieted, she began to speak, her voice carrying clearly across the square. Though I couldn't understand the words, the rhythm of them was hypnotic, almost like a chant or prayer.
