By The Moon's Blade

2. The Festival of the Clouds, Two Years Ago

Shalia's legs outpace mine as I try and keep up with their massive stride. My boots click quickly on the stone below as Shalia takes relaxed steps. We make small talk and after noticing my breath quickening, they finally slow down to a more manageable pace. We duck into Night's Tearoom and speak to Calico, a medium-height Lunari with silver hair messily braided down her back.

"Hey y'all! The usual?" Calico inquires.

"You know it! Maybe a bit stronger today, it's going to be a long one," Shalia chimes as they peruse the shelves of different mugs and tea bags.

"I'll have the same, thanks Calico."

Calico sends us a smile and moves over to a small stove to boil some water. She pulls out a few jars of different herbs and flowers from a cupboard above the stove, mixing scoops together into her unique house blend. She places small baskets over a couple of disposable cups and splits the tea blend between the two baskets. With precise timing, the kettle whistles sharply and Calico pours the water over each basket, covering each with a lid for a couple of minutes to steep.

As our tea rests, Shalia and I droop down onto a comfortable sofa in the corner of the tearoom. My head leans back on the soft pink velvet and I fight to keep my eyes open. Shalia notices and nudges me on my side, startling me awake.

"Shalia, Rozi, your tea should be good to go! Thanks for coming in."

"Thank *you* for the tea, are you going to be able to take a break and make it out to the festival today?" I ask.

"I think so, I don't believe anyone will really be in town anyways and I'd like to watch the show. So I figure I'll try and duck out early afternoon."

"Well, here's hoping it doesn't get too busy for you! If you make it out, come find us, we'd love to catch up."

The three of us share pleasant goodbyes as Shalia and I walk out of the shop, tea cups in hand. The wind is almost still in Starmill, but the further we go up, the windier and colder it will get, and we'll come to appreciate the tea cups warming our fingertips.

We make our way over to the lift on the outskirts of Starmill to travel upwards into Uzul and Cirrus, our two points of interest for the day. Walking onto the lift, we press a button and it starts rising up the cliffside. Aside from not having to trudge up flights of stairs or precarious bridges, taking a lift also gives you a miraculous view of the mountain range below. Though I've never experienced another home, I have a feeling that nothing could be better than this.

The lifts overlook the great canyon below and the sun slowly grows higher in the sky. The way the light reflects off of the clouds gives it a cotton candy glow. I bask in that morning sun and sink the warmth in, taking a deep breath of the chilled air lightly swirling around. As Shalia and I lean against the bar of the lift, some of the Skali rush by, wind rippling beneath their brightly colored feathers. I sip my tea and feel the warmth settle into my core.

I let out a happy sigh and brush the hair out of my face. I knew that the bun was a good choice, the now-messy flyaways completely intentional. This joy I feel is worth a few pieces of displaced hair. Our lift passes by the dwarven village of Gilbaldur, the sound of pickaxes echoing throughout the valley. Many of the people of Cloudridge take the festival day off as a custom, but work never stops in Gilbaldur.

After working for most of the day (albeit a shorter day than usual), they'll make their way up to enjoy the festivities with a pint of ale and a stomach full of meat, cheese, bread, and roasted vegetables. The Dwarves usually show up in full force with different dwarven delicacies, which are mostly of the... alcoholic variety. Vendors from Gilbaldur will also set up tables full of precious metals harvested from the mines in addition to small barrels of snowapple ale for people to take home.