A Feast of Thanksgiving “I see it!” was the call from the tallest buildings on the shore. “I see it! I see it! I see it!” Excitedly, Havelock slid down the lookout tower’s ladder, his leather-gloved hands warming with friction. His boots thumped into the waterlogged ground, and everyone around him stopped what they were doing, turning to stare at him. “See what?” Ludoviko asked, watching the pale boy land. “The first ship!” Havelock announced triumphantly, pointing in the general direction from which the ship was coming. “Spring is back! And the ports need to be opened!” With those words, he took off in search of Sandrylene and Tristan. “Spring is back! The first ship is here!” he cried as he went. *** Kipfel and Löwenherzchen lied in front of the fire. He had returned with Ira and Löwen a few days ago, though none of them had formally announced it to anyone. Most of the town knew they were back by now anyway. Suddenly, both their heads jerked up in the same fluid motion, and they stared at the door. There was a sound outside Annabel’s house somewhere. Without a word, Kipfel and Löwen turned to one another. They blinked and then turned again to face to door. *Is that music?* Kip wanted to know. Löwen cocked its head to the side. *Let’s go find out.* Löwen thumped its tail on the ground once and frolicked around Kip’s legs as he pulled himself to his feet. He wove in and out of the terran’s talons as the door opened and the two of them slipped outside, and into the sunlight. *Argh!* Kipfel complained, and both he and Löwen shrank back from the bright rays. They looked left and right, but neither could discern the source of the noise. Without a word, Kipfel headed to the end of the street. There, he could hear it much more clearly. It was a light sound, the type of which made him feel like he could float away. There was a certain melody to it, like when Ira played his Trumpet Piece. Was this music, then? It was such an alien tune. Kipfel had never heard anything like it before. Without realizing it, he began creeping forwards, towards the music, his steps skipping and weaving grapevines and bouncing and bopping along. He closed his eyes, then, standing as still as he could force himself to be, even his tail swaying along to the beat. He pressed closer to the source of the music, vaguely aware that Löwen didn’t think this was a very good idea. Suddenly, something moved a little to his left, and he bumped his shoulder into something. He stopped stone cold, looked up, cast a sheepish look at the stranger above him. The stranger scowled, and Kip turned the other way, running from the sound. Löwen followed closely behind him. *Ugh, people,* he projected softly. *Always stopping me just when things are getting good.* He hung a left and noticed, suddenly, that something was cooking by the pavilion. Tentatively, he realized he was a bit hungry, and maybe Annabel would be willing to let him filch some. *Hungry, Löwen?* he asked, looking behind him for the small green Sufan. Löwen was nowhere to be seen. Kipfel startled, and stared behind him at the street. What happened to Löwenherzchen? He glanced around in a state of panic. Löwen was small, he couldn’t have gone far, right? His breaths quickened, and his chest hurt. He’d lost one of his best friends in the world! What if someone took him away from him!? And then a wave of relief washed over him, because something told him to look left. There, between two very strange looking creatures, was Löwenherzchen, once again, as always, enjoying the attention. Kipfel was furious. How dare they take his Löwen from him? With a snarl building at the back of his throat, he slunk down towards the ground and stalked over to the trio. He wondered how easy it would be to scare the two of them away from his Löwenherzchen. He loomed up behind them, and growled. The brown thing startled, and the white spotted one just casually glanced behind him, ruffling spotted wings. Kipfel wrinkled up his muzzle and drew back his lips, revealing sharp rows of teeth. *Mine,* he said fiercely. The spotted thing looked over at its companion. “Look, Rudy. Someone else has come to play,” he said in tones that made Kip wonder about his sincerity. And simply that shadow of doubt was enough to make Kipfel lunge for the spotted thing’s neck and try to kill it. He almost got away with it, too, had Löwen not interfered at the last possible moment and called him off. Kipfel circled around the thing and stood over Löwenherzchen. *Mine,* he repeated, less adamantly, but still convincingly. “Yes, so you’d said,” the spotted thing said, trying to smooth down his ruffled fur. “Anacleto, please don’t be rude to the scary thing!” the one the spotted thing had called Rudy said. “Rudy, please don’t lecture me on how I’m to react to a given situation. If I were to startle at every little thing the way you do, I would never get anything done.” Kipfel listened for a moment and then interrupted when he felt a question enter his mind. *What are you two?* he wanted to know. Anacleto gave Kip a measuring glance. “We’re angecur,” he said. “I’m Anacleto. My friend here is Rudy. I don’t know what we did to offend you, sir, but that little green thing came over to us. We certainly weren’t trying to steal it.” He began licking his paw unconcernedly. Kipfel let out a light growl. *I’m a Bishen dragon. Show some respect.* “I’d give you respect had you not tried to eat me!” *And Löwen wants me to tell you my name is Kipfel. And I want to tell you that we’re going away now.* “Well, then I suppose we’ll see you around, won’t we?” Anacleto called after them as Löwen darted onto Kip’s head and the two of them stalked off towards the pavilion, where hopefully Annabel was cooking something more appetizing than angecur. *** Kipfel was aware of the delicious smells that were assaulting his senses. He was trying to ignore them, however. He was also trying to ignore the insane amount of people in the kitchen with Annabel. “Kip, I’m serious. I can’t talk right now,” Annabel said crisply. “It’s nothing against you; I just need to get this finished. AH! NO ROSEMARY!” She reached out her wrist quickly and caught someone’s wrist before they could sprinkle rosemary all over a roast. “Don’t. Touch,” she warned in a manner frighteningly similar to that of Kipfel’s. *But why, Annabel?* Kip asked, looking up from his seat on the floor at his bondmate as she kneaded ground meat together with other things. “Because we’re having a feast tonight. Just you wait. Please find something to do until later. I promise you can bother me all you want then.” *But—* “Please, Kip. I don’t have time for this.” She rubbed at her forehead with the back of her wrist. Kip began to say something else, but one of the other helpers spoke up. “Ira’s on the Majestic helping out, Kip. Why don’t you see what needs to be done, too?” Tor asked, working on bread and pastries. *Why don’t you just go away?* Kip retaliated viciously, snapping his tail against the wooden floor and stalking off, Löwenherzchen tailing him, casting a dejected glance back at all the workers in the kitchen. *** In all honesty, it puzzled Ira very much to think where the tables had come from. He imagined that perhaps Xylon had set them up for the festivities. *Except that one,* he admitted, eyeing a rough-cut table that still looked more tree than anything. *Definitely Havelock’s work.* He gave the boy credit. Not many in his stage of training could even do that. Quietly, he looked around from his perch in one of the trees amidst the grove where the feast would be taking place. They had strung lanterns among most of them throughout the day, as well as decorating the tables with bunches of whatever wildflowers could be found. Later, when it was all ready, the tables would be set with flatware and plates and steins, and everyone would gather, and the food would be distributed, and there would be singing and dancing and music. Ira was looking forward to it. Suddenly, Ira’s tree was invaded by two winged things with four legs. They weren’t dragons; they were furry and smelled wrong. He turned behind him and looked at them to let them know he was there, and then he continued watching the tables be set below him. However, most of his listening was for what was behind him. Unfortunately, the things said nothing. Ira, rather than being put off, wondered where Kipfel was hiding. He may have been antisocial as all get, but he didn’t usually avoid huge gatherings for this long. He listened, but there was no sign of the familiar clicking of Kip’s talons anywhere. He was worried, but he trusted Kip to show up soon. *** Löwenherzchen made an exasperated motion with its head. It fixed Kipfel with an innocent gaze, and tried once more to implant the idea that he should go see what all the noise was. Kipfel growled and stared into the dying embers of the fireplace. Löwen began to try again, and then Kip whipped around and snarled at him. *No, Löwen. I don’t want to see what all the fuss is about,* Kip snarled, having a while ago figured out where some of his more hare-brained schemes came from. Löwen jumped at the sudden motion, but true to its color, it didn’t shy away. Instead, it puffed its fur up angrily and glared back at the black. It bared tiny white teeth and made what Kip could have sworn was a silent snarl. Kipfel looked down at this sudden return of aggression and sighed. Löwen would be mad at him all evening if he didn’t go check it out. *Fine,* Kipfel replied. *But if Annabel yells at me again, it’s your fault.* Löwen blinked up at him and closed his eyes contentedly before scrambling up to perch between Kip’s shoulders. Kip pulled himself to his feet and worried the door open. It was cold outside, and sunset was approaching faster than he anticipated. Miserable and dejected, he sought out the festival grove. *** Ira’s head jerked up to a sound, and he let out a happy chirp when he saw a familiar shape loping down the path towards the grove. Behind him, the two winged things rustled uncomfortably. “Oh what a bother,” one of them sighed. “Look, Rudy. It’s him again.” “Don’t pick a fight again, please, Anacleto,” the other answered. “He didn’t seem to friendly the first time. He looks far less happy this time.” Ira rolled his eyes skyward and released his grip on the branch of the tree he was perched in. As he sailed down to the ground, he made sure to make the branch wiggle in annoyance at the two whatever-they-were. Silently, he cut through the afternoon breeze, pulling a roll, and ended flying above his mate. *About time you showed up,* Ira remarked. *We were starting to get worried.* Kipfel let out a scoff. *Maybe you were, Ira, but excuse me while I doubt other people were worried.* Ira shook his head in exasperation. He knew Kip in these self-pitying moods. *Annabel was worried about you. No one had seen you since you left the pavilion earlier this afternoon.* *Hah. Unlikely,* Kip remarked as he entered the grove, which was beginning to be bathed in dark, rusty orange. *Fine. Believe what you want. I’m glad you’re here. They want to begin soon.* Kipfel nodded and plopped silently beneath a tree. Ira perched in a low branch of the same tree, and they waited for a few more arrivals. As the light dimmed, a flurry of birdsong erupted, and the lanterns hung in the trees began to glow, each with its own separate flame. There was a spattering of applause from those who had never seen Xylon’s magic before, and he nodded around, his large wings rustling uncomfortably. Oberon, Xylon’s Clarus dragon bond, was happily obliging a purple-blue necco in a game of tag, the two cutting intricate capers through the air. And before Ira could see any further through the crowd, the food slowly began to arrive. It was a grand procession from the pavilion, which was the only area on the island with a kitchen large enough to accommodate such a feast. Savory smells wafted about, and Ira felt his stomach emptying to get ready for the meal. Kegs of ale were set behind the tables and benches, and some of the sailors were eying them thirstily already. There was a huge, swelling cacophony as everyone remarked on the spread. Tor’s rolls and were set in baskets on either side of Annabel’s roasts, and fragrant vegetables and fruits and vegetables also adorned the spread. Not only did it all smell delicious, it looked delicious as well, obvious time having been spent on the presentation as well as the preparation. And then Sandrylene added the last piece of the spread and clapped her hands together above her head. Ira watched in amusement, as only those in the direct vicinity of her stopped talking and turned to listen. Sandry could never hope to reach the far end of the tables with her voice. She cast a pleading look towards Ira, who took his Trumpet Piece to his mouth. He waited for everyone nearby to cover their ears as best as they could, and then he let out a blast softer than he normally would. Even that was too hard, though, Ira realized sheepishly while watching people at the far end of the table covering their ears and trying to find out why they couldn’t hear. The blue arboreal let out a sheepish *Sorry!* which projected through the minds of all gathered. They turned towards him, and he looked to Sandrylene. They followed his glance, and Oberon and the necco landed to listen. Sandry laughed a little as she rubbed at her ears. “Softer next time, eh, Ira?” she asked louder than necessary. Then she waited a few moments until she could fully hear herself before addressing the crowd. “Can everyone hear me?” she called down, her hand in the air again. No one protested, and she continued. “Please, everyone, take a seat. But don’t begin eating yet. I have a few announcements to make!” She waited as everyone took a seat. Sandrylene reserved the seat at the head of the table for herself, and Clarinet slithered onto the bench to her left, Tren took the one to Sandry’s right, and Annabel took the one to Tren’s right. Down the left row a bit, Dagmar began to fuss, and Egil bounced her on a knee. Sandry sent an inviting glance to Kip, Ira, and Löwen to join them. Ira and Kip exchanged a glance, and without a word, Ira flew down and perched on the bench beside Annabel. Löwen followed shortly after, and it sat on the table between them. Everyone moved over a little to make room, and he leapt onto the bench between Ira and Annabel. “Alright,” Sandry remarked quietly, still standing. Then, she addressed the gathering. “I want to welcome everyone to the port of Dendrinla,” she said, her voice carrying with ease to the end of the table. “We all have our stories on why we’re here and how we got here, but the important thing is that we all are here. Each of you, even those who intend to sail off sometime soon, are part of our family tonight. What you are about to experience is a feast of Thanksgiving.” She paused, letting her words sink in. Then, she continued. “We all have much to be thankful for this spring, as a start of the new year. Perhaps we are thankful for having found peace. Perhaps we are thankful for having found love. Perhaps we are thankful to at last have found a family. Whatever your reasons, whatever your beliefs, I want each of us to think of what we are thankful for as we enjoy this meal.” She paused again, slightly longer this time. “That established, I have a few announcements.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “Tristan and Zeroun have returned to us with very good news. The trade treaties we sent for last fall have arrived and have been approved with Gettan as well as with the Godly Empire.” There was a spattering of applause, and Tristan nodded his head at the table before it died off. “Also, no one died this winter,” she announced. There was even more cheering at this, and she waved it down with a grin. “And lastly, it would give me great pleasure to announce Dendrinla’s first marriage. Tren Galdro and Annabel Oswald are to be wed this summer. I wish to extend my congratulations to the happy couple.” There was more applause at this, and Kip stared in shock as Annabel blushed deeply in the lanterns’ glow. Tren whispered something to her, and she nodded, and they exchanged a shy and fleeting kiss. Ira and Löwen watched in amusement as Kip wrestled with the thoughts of losing his bondmate. Did it matter anymore? He already had Ira and Löwen. Before he could decide, Sandrylene spoke again. “Very glad for the two of you,” she said kindly towards them, and then she addressed the tables. “And that’s the end of my announcements. Please, enjoy this meal, and do pass from left to right, so we don’t have any congestion of beans at any one spot.” There was appreciative laughter, and Sandry sat down, spooning herself a soufflé and passing it to Tren. There was laughter, and there was music, and there was dancing all night long. Everyone had a generally good time, and Kip did not try to eat the angecur again. The festivities lasted long into the next morning, and try as he might, Kipfel could not stop worrying about this wedding. Ira and Löwen did their bests to get his mind off it, and to please them, he pretended it was. For now. "Bondless" Sharona Because of their less than favorable bondings, Kipfel and Ira decided that one of their children would not be sent off into the world to find a bondmate, but will stay in the area to be raised by them and everyone else who cares to do so. The daughter they choose is named Sharona, after a few lines of a song stuck in Tor's head when they choose the egg. Because everyone takes an active role in raising Sharona, it is the author's suggestion that at least some of the rest of the stories be read to better understand who is doing what and why. Timeline: Post-foundation Creature adopted: Sharona -- Bishel dragon Other Creatures: Rudolph & Anacleto -- Angecur ? and ? -- Gargoyles Page: 2/26 1 -- 2 -- 3 -- 4 -- 5 -- 6 -- 7 8 -- 9 -- 10 -- 11 -- 12 -- 13 -- 14 15 -- 16 -- 17 -- 18 -- 19 -- 20 -- 21 22 -- 23 -- 24 -- 25 -- 26