The musicians all lined the streets and began playing a lively tune. The sounds of crumhorns, lutes and drums filled the air while the gentle breeze seemed to make the streamers dance on their own. Eric and Jacob were the first two to each grab a streamer. That was initiative enough for all, because many immediately followed their lead.
Once a hand had graced every ribbon, the whirling dance began. Blue over yellow, red over blue, girl over boy, boy over girl. The girls pranced in one direction while the boys skipped in the other. Over then under then over again, the streamers wove a beautiful striped pattern down the poles as the circle began to tighten. Closer and closer everyone got to each other, laughing as they all became embraced in a big hug, then reversed direction and did the same dance to unwind the poles once again. On and on it went as the celebration wound down.
The musicians were still playing softly late into the evening as couples danced slowly together in the streets, alone in their own private world and lost in each other’s eyes. Eric and Jacob sat on a bench in silence, both feeling very peaceful and just taking in the atmosphere. Then suddenly Jacob elbowed Eric in the ribs several times. “It looks like you have an admirer,” he said in a playful whisper.
Eric looked up and saw the girl he was referring to across the street. A long black robe with the hood pulled back revealed a very pretty face with long blond hair and green eyes. Her full lips were a deep blood red which was a stark contrast to her fair skin. She was staring a hole right through Eric as she smiled.
“Go!” Jacob said, trying to push him right off the bench.
“Oh, uh...yeah...OK,” he stammered as he awkwardly stood up. Eric tugged at his shirt nervously as he slowly crossed the street with his head down. As he got closer to her, he realized she had not taken her eyes off him once. “Uh...hi, uh…” he mumbled as he ground one foot repeatedly into the street as if killing a bug while his hands remained clasped behind his back.
“Hello, Eric Aethello,” she said with a huge grin as she tilted her head so far to the side it almost touched her shoulder.
“Uh...how did you?” Eric stuttered as his eyes bulged.
“All the girls know who the blacksmith of Bryer is,” she said as she rocked her whole body back and forth, pointing one shoulder forward, then the other, then back again in a playful nervous dance. Then she stood on the tips of her toes as she put her face close to his. “My name’s Aena. Will you dance with me?” she whispered in his ear. The two of them stared at each other unblinking without saying a word for what seemed like minutes, then they walked out into the street and began to dance slowly. They held each other close and talked well into the morning hours. Of course, the musicians had left hours earlier, but that did not stop them from dancing. They were the last two off the street in the morning when she returned with Eric back to his home.
Chapter 5
Dragot glided across the smooth jet-black marble that covered every inch of his personalized tower of horrors. His walk was even slower than usual as he passed the flickering torches on the walls, torches that were replaced daily by the briggits. The small creatures darted back and forth as they engaged in menial tasks. However, not even the slightest footsteps could ever be heard, as if they just floated along without ever touching the floor. It seemed no stranger than their faces were never seen under those brown hoods.
Dragot’s thoughts drifted as he gracefully floated down the spiraling staircase. His large, yellow, catlike eyes darted about as his mind raced. His slow movements would seem to disagree with the speed of his thoughts as he continued to put one foot in front of the other, as if each subtle movement deserved to be rewarded with a brief rest. He continued to contemplate how much he hated humans. Their smell, the way they walked, talked, breathed...loved! Their very existence was insulting, and he planned to do something about that.
The irony was not lost on him, however. He was fully aware that he was half human—the half that he loathed. He embraced every part of his very being that was his demon half, the durable half that had allowed him nearly eternal life; the half that didn’t have the weaknesses of love or compassion, that did not serve as a roadblock to the real joys of existence: power, dominance, and complete and total control. Not the power you achieved because you climbed some sort of invisible moral ladder, thus earning the respect and confidence of your peers, people who in turn would follow you because they believed you were a natural commander. Oh, no...power was there to be taken! Leaders were not made...they were born!