The Deep Lake
Not so long ago there was a nightmare here, but oh - just for tonight, Vitreus Lake has been sculpted into a dream.
There are a few tents set up on shore, silver as the moon, their peaks echoing those of the Arma Mountains that rise behind them. Glowing stones and candles lead up to them, and the figures within make shifting, elegant silhouettes against their silken sides. There are three vendors here, all bringing something different.
One is a tattoo-artist, henna or ink of any color you desire. Oh, for a coin or a tale she’ll paint a story on your skin, or any fanciful design, or only a word. The tattoos last for two seasons before they begin to fade.
There is a jeweler, too, whose eyes glint as fierce and bright as his wares and weapons. These strange trinkets and decorative knives are fashioned from a kind of glass you’ve never seen (unless you participated in the battle with thunderbirds on this very shore - then you know it well). Blue-tinted and smooth-edged, there seems to be some spark within them, like heat lightning or a memory of a long-ago storm. The vendor warns that these strange, lovely objects might disintegrate with time - but who can truly be sure?
The last tent is the most mysterious yet. Within is a mare, dark eyes and a knowing smile. Those gathered outside say in whispers she can stitch magic into your very skin - but although her smile is a promise indeed, she will not say for what. Not until you step a little closer, and she shows you a shell, and tells you it will grant you the ability to breathe underwater, if only you let her affix it to your skin.
But most wondrous of all (save perhaps that last merchant) is the lake itself. The shoreline has vanished, covered with an inlaid path of wood and gleaming gold. It leads into the lake itself - still waters that have been remade. Up like walls they rise, held back by something more thin, more strong than glass; it is easy to be captivated, watching the shifting secrets from below the surface. Just as curious as the festival-goers are the fish and creatures that glide darkly by, turning strange eyes to the inhabitants on the other side of the wall.
There are a few tents set up on shore, silver as the moon, their peaks echoing those of the Arma Mountains that rise behind them. Glowing stones and candles lead up to them, and the figures within make shifting, elegant silhouettes against their silken sides. There are three vendors here, all bringing something different.
One is a tattoo-artist, henna or ink of any color you desire. Oh, for a coin or a tale she’ll paint a story on your skin, or any fanciful design, or only a word. The tattoos last for two seasons before they begin to fade.
There is a jeweler, too, whose eyes glint as fierce and bright as his wares and weapons. These strange trinkets and decorative knives are fashioned from a kind of glass you’ve never seen (unless you participated in the battle with thunderbirds on this very shore - then you know it well). Blue-tinted and smooth-edged, there seems to be some spark within them, like heat lightning or a memory of a long-ago storm. The vendor warns that these strange, lovely objects might disintegrate with time - but who can truly be sure?
The last tent is the most mysterious yet. Within is a mare, dark eyes and a knowing smile. Those gathered outside say in whispers she can stitch magic into your very skin - but although her smile is a promise indeed, she will not say for what. Not until you step a little closer, and she shows you a shell, and tells you it will grant you the ability to breathe underwater, if only you let her affix it to your skin.
But most wondrous of all (save perhaps that last merchant) is the lake itself. The shoreline has vanished, covered with an inlaid path of wood and gleaming gold. It leads into the lake itself - still waters that have been remade. Up like walls they rise, held back by something more thin, more strong than glass; it is easy to be captivated, watching the shifting secrets from below the surface. Just as curious as the festival-goers are the fish and creatures that glide darkly by, turning strange eyes to the inhabitants on the other side of the wall.
