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Four Bonfire Stories for the Fire Festival

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  • Four Bonfire Stories for the Fire Festival

    Second day of the Seventh Moon,
    Nineteenth Year of Recent Awakenings

    In accordance with the will of Her Majesty and in upholding the duties charged to me as Junior Chronicler, I hereby submit the account of
    Four Bonfire Stories for the Fire Festival .

    At the commencement of the Fire Festival late in the fourth moon, a great, roaring bonfire of deep crimson flames appeared in the centre of the Courtyard. The fire was erected within a circle of stones approximately two meters in diameter, with flames that rose in wispy plumes. The fire seemed calm and unthreatening, and seemingly invited people to sit near its warmth, and perhaps even share a story. Four of the stories told on the first day are transcribed below.

    Doctor Dolph’s Story

    A little over a year ago, a large sphinx came to Marrach, with interest in quizzing each of us on various factoids of Marrachian History, to which it appeared to know quite a bit.

    The questions were all, as we later found out, easily researchable in Chronicles, but at first, many of us were unprepared - not knowing these sudden inquisitions were upon us.

    Any time an individual got the answer wrong, the sphinx would *stomp* his foot, and a bolt of lightning would strike the person, encasing them in a magic that somewhat froze them, like a statue. After a few moments, they would burst forth, seemingly unharmed, but leaving behind a statue, or shell, of themselves.

    That person would appear quite dizzy and dazed, and some memories might have even been missing. Known later, however, the sphinx had trapped one of their memories for good in the statue, for what he would call his "collection".

    As we were quizzed through the weeks, day by day the statues accumulated. One such statue was even destroyed, and that person lost the memory encased forever. If you answered correctly, the Sphinx gave you one of his beautiful feathers, and would not quiz you again.

    In fact, if you got it wrong, he didn't quiz you again either. Someone once demanded to be done so, was wrong again, and the statue process wounded them physically.

    Anyhow, the day came where the Sphinx declared it would allow us to choose three members to be quizzed. If they were correct, the memories would be returned...

    If they were wrong, he would depart with them all.

    Myself, Emerick and Wilena were chosen to answer the Sphinx. We succeeded in the task, and the memories were restored. The sphinx left, albeit a bit disgruntled. I suspect to return in the future, and see if we are as focused on our history as it wishes.

    Yeoman Elesin’s Story

    There was a time, when I first woke in the Castle, that I began to remember my past life. least, believed that I did.

    ...I discovered that a woman of the Castle, sera Faer, knew of the same past. least, believed she did.

    And so Faer and I found each other, our passion for the blade's dance and the fellowship of the Brotherhood of Duelists called to us both.

    As we found more and more in common with one another, we came to understand a bond between us that grew from our past and present. The bond of kinship deeper than vows. Deeper than memories. She was my Sister, and I her Brother.

    Faer and I found a third of our soul. Isadora. She, too, became our sister, but it was a different nature of bond. Hard to explain, but there none the less.

    But it was not meant to be an entirely blissful reunion of souls. When is it ever so clear and simple?

    For, in our lives past, Faer was not just a sister. She was also my wife. And that past became tangled with the present. And our hearts became entangled as well.

    It is ... not easy to explain to those who did not live in our lands. It is not understood, .... nor will it be. And Faer, she was betrothed to another in this time, in this place.


    There are no beasts in my story, Aysiah, no shining armor, no riddles to solve or prizes to win.

    There was a shadow. A sword. A cloak. And there was me, and Edouard, and Faer.

    And I killed him. The sword killed him. The shadows.....I....I killed him.

    And...for the most part...our story....ended.

    Master Pete’s Story

    Oi were a Doolerist too, long ago. An' there were this weddin' we were all invoitered to.

    Edouard an' Faer. They were gettin' marriaged.

    Oi were only a recent Doolerist. An' Oi were at th' reception wif me brother, Nexian.

    It were a loverly reception... until it came out thet th' groom, Edouard, were 'avin' an affair be'ind th' broide's back... an', welp, thet didnt'st go over well a t'all!

    Weddin' cake started flyin'!

    Shoutin'! Accusations! More accusations! It near came to fisticuffs! An' then ever'one suddenly all ran off in different directions in a 'uff, either supportin' th' broide or th' groom.

    Apart from Nexian an' me. We were still standin' there. All shockered.

    But we knew wot we 'ad to do...

    Toime passed. A lotta toime.

    Faer an' Edouard went their own ways fer ... Oi dont'st know 'ow long...

    But after a woile, wot brought 'em together in th' first place juss couldnt'st be stopped. An', after all th' yellin', an' th' sour glances... they grew sweet on each other. Slowly. Moon after moon.

    Oi cant'st recall 'xactly 'ow long it took, but foinally Oi saw 'em sittin' in th' Doolist lounge, after lettin' th' past be th' past... So Oi snuck off to me room to fetch summin' Oi 'ad been 'oldin' on to.

    Oi 'ad saved a sloice o' their weddin' cake. Juss in case they ever made up. They were so surproised to see it! An' Faer... welp... Faer were touched.

    So... They 'ad a terribelt weddin', but a fairly good kiss-n'-make-up a woils later.

    Lady Charmiam’s Story

    I have a story, tis nay of this place though.

    Tis a story of green jade, the stone and the colour I love so much.

    Tis a tale of love and ... Well, you shall see. Poutini was a water monster of the beautiful stone pounamu, also called green jade. Poutini was afraid of another water monster who was named Whaitipu. Whaitipu was the guardian of the goddess of sandstone, Hinehoaka. Traditionally, sandstone knives were used to cut green jade and so you can understand why Poutini was fearful of being cut by Whaitipu.

    One time, Whaitipu was chasing Poutini in the sea; waters monsters are always at war with each other.

    This time, Poutini fled from Whaitipu and took refuge in a bay on a small island. While he was hiding there, Poutini saw a beautiful woman coming down to the water to bathe. Her name was Waitaiki.

    You may not know the workings of the heart, but Poutini was so enthralled by Waitaiki's beauty that he captured her. He swam with her away from the island and towards the mainland.

    What Poutini did not know was that Waitaiki had a husband named Tamaahua. When Tamaahua discovered that his wife was missing, he used incantations and divination to find her. For his divining tool, he used a small, dart-like spear. He threw the spear, and it pointed towards the location of his wife, Waitaiki.

    Then began the great chase. Tamaahua chased Poutini and Waitaiki through the North Island. He chased them through the South Island. Eventually, Tamaahua caught up to Poutini at the Arahura River. Poutini still held Waitaiki captive and though he feared Tamaahua would catch him, he refused to give her up.

    Poutini slipped past Tamaahua and to make sure that Tamaahua could not have Waitaiki .... Poutini turned her into his own essence! Pounamu or green jade.

    Poutini laid Waitaiki in the river bed at the junction of the Arahura River and a nearby stream. The stream became known as Waitaiki. Ever since that day, the Arahura River and the Waitaiki Stream have both surrendered pieces of pounamu to those who search for it. On finding his wife turned to pounamu, Tamaahua grieved for her and then returned home.

    Poutini, having eluded Tamaahua, continued down the river to the coast. Since that time, he has swum the west coast acting as a guardian spirit of the land and the beautiful pounamu. This place is now called Ta Tai Poutini - the tides of Poutini.

    This chronicle will be subject to changes and corrections, as I humbly ask all readers please indicate to me through discretion any falsehoods I may have mistakenly communicated. It is by means of the conservation of the Past that we continue to serve Her Majesty and give substance to those that follow.

    In service to Her Majesty Queen Vivienne, The Office of the Chronicler, and the
    Denizenry of Her Majesty's Realm.

    Sera Tine
    Junior Chronicler

    Last edited by Tine; 07-02-2018, 03:49 PM.

    Senior Chronicler
    Assistant to Doctor Dolph Li'astri