1-2 | The Harvest Dance

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"Good citizens of Lytgard, I am proud to present our crown aspirants, young men of extraordinary intellect and skill who represent the future of our blessed kingdom. But the regency will only commission one to represent the interests of Lytgard beyond the borders and fulfill the terms of the ancient charter of Llyr. And so, I proudly present to you this year's Seeker of Llyr, Tenet of House Bariss, who will seek an apprenticeship with the wizard Madrigal in the village of Stillbrook."

There was a round of polite applause as Elder Lightspeaker finished speaking and nodded toward Tenet and the other aspirants standing on stage. While the other aspirants wore dark tunics embroidered with the gold and grey of Lytgard, Tenet's starched tunic was vibrant with the national colors and emblems. Feeling the stares and the curiosity of the crowd caused him to stand straighter. He felt proud and nervous simultaneously. He also felt itchy.

Tenet exited the stage and took in the pageantry and colors of the Harvest Formal. All around him were citizens in their finery, filling the Courtyard of Regents, mingling and dancing as the musicians strummed their instruments. Tenet had been to the Harvest Formal once before in order to see the face of the man the regents had named to seek an apprenticeship with the wizard. Tenet had been in awe, dreaming that one day it would be him standing on stage, chosen as the new Seeker. Now that he was here, Tenet suddenly wished he was anywhere else.

Not that he objected to being chosen. The hope of being a wizard's apprentice exhilarated Tenet. Becoming a wizard had long been his dream. But the ceremony and pageantry were too much for him. He really didn't know how to conduct himself. If any of the women were to approach him, expecting a dance-

That seemed an unlikely problem. So far, the women seemed to ignore him, gathering into small crowds around the other young aspirants. The ones who weren't leaving. The ones who weren't crazy enough to want to be a wizard. Tenet couldn't hear the whispers people were saying about them but held no doubt what they were saying about him. He looked around for the nearest exit when suddenly he felt a strong hand fall on his shoulder.

"If it isn't our young wizard. Elder Lightspeaker has told me so much about you," boomed a deep voice that Tenet recognized instantly. A voice that all citizens of Highhold would recognize instantly.

"Lord General Morrow," Tenet said with reverence and wide eyes while turning to face the giant of a man dressed in military formals with a sword—as deadly looking as it was ornate—hanging from his belt. Tenet had never stood this close to the man before. As one third of the regency, and the head of all of Lytgard's military forces, Lord Morrow's influence in the kingdom was unsurpassed.

"At ease, young man," Morrow spoke gently. "After all. You're to be a wizard, if the stars bless it. And it's not the place of wizards to look at politicians with jaws agape. Truly, I am no less pleased to meet you than you are to meet me. Tonight, let us meet as equals."

"Yes sir. General. Lord General." Tenet tried unsuccessfully to compose himself. Equals, you fool! But how can I address Lord General Morrow as an equal?

Morrow chuckled politely and smiled warmly at Tenet. "You're nervous. This is all overwhelming for you, I'm sure. But I believe in you, Tenet. Your kingdom believes in you. The regents. We all believe in you. So relax. I hope you won't be this nervous when you speak to the wizard."

Tenet did his best to relax, lowering his shoulders. "No sir. I've practiced and I know what to say to him when I present my gift to him."

"Ah, yes. The wizard's gift. An old tradition too few remember to observe. You do well to remember the old ways. And the Elder says you have chosen a fine gift."

Tenet reached for the velvet pouch at his waist, and untied the cord, opening the pouch. "Yes, sir. A foreign trader brought it to my family's trading house. I've seen nothing like it before." Reaching inside, he pulled out a miniature orrery, its spinning planets and moons intricately wrought from pewter and adorned with colorful crystals. "I hope it pleases Madrigal."

"I have little doubt that it will, Tenet. It impressed the priests. Of course, anything astrological usually does. I have heard them say that they could have made a good priest out of you. But I can see that's not where the stars are leading you. You are to be a wizard."

"I hope." Tenet spoke softly while returning the orrery to the pouch at his belt. "I am not sure—"

Morrow cut him off. "That's not the speech of a wizard, Tenet of house Bariss. Chin up. You have an entire kingdom watching you. You will not let us down. That's an order."

At this, Tenet relaxed a bit more. "Yes sir. You are right. I will be a wizard."

"That's the spirit. Now we must part. There is business to attend to."

"Of course, sir. You must be very busy."

"Not at all, Tenet. The business is yours. You are the seeker. It's your responsibility to dance with all those lovely young women who ask. Now go. Enjoy yourself."

Tenet nodded his head politely, feeling a lump in his stomach as he walked toward the crowd, no longer scanning for an exit. How can I dance with the women if none of them want to dance with--

"Excuse me." Tenet heard a soft voice behind him. "May I have this dance, seeker?"

Tenet stood stunned for a moment, then remembered to turn to face a young woman, with waves of long auburn hair hanging past her shoulders, wearing a dark velvet gown and dainty slippers. He couldn't see her eyes as she had her head down and was slightly trembling from shyness.

By custom, the seeker could not refuse a dance at the Harvest Formal. To his surprise, he discovered he had no desire to. "It would be my pleasure." She rewarded him with a quick flash of grey eyes and a shy smile before she looked down again. Despite being shy and a little skinny, the girl was certainly pretty.

Tenet reached out and took her hand in his own and forced himself to remember the dance lessons his cousins had taught him. But while his memory seemed suddenly blank, his feet remembered. As the musicians began a new tune, the dance commenced.

The girl continued looking down at her own feet, too shy to meet his gaze. But they were dancing. The song ended, and another song began. Four songs later, still dancing, Tenet relaxed. No one else had approached him for a dance, but he was content with his current dance partner.

"Sir Tenet," the girl whispered softly, still looking down. "I am afraid it is time for me to go, but I thank you for dancing with me." She stood with her hands meekly hidden behind her back.

"Please. Just Tenet. And the pleasure was mine. And what is your name? Forgive me for not asking earlier."

"No forgiveness needed, Tenet." She flashed another quick smile at him. "Melli. My name is Melli. And I must now go now." She turned gracefully and headed through the crowd without saying another word.

Tenet stood and watched her go, his heart aflutter. He felt a weight lifted from his--. Placing his hand on his belt, he realized it was not his heart she had lightened. The pouch with his orrery was gone. As his dance partner ran for the door, he yelled, "Thief!"

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