Yesterday's Enemy [AoT]

MEMOIRS OF HAVAS [03]

(SET TWENTY YEARS BEFORE HAVAS IS BREACHED)

'In Havas, we believe in transparency. All that one might deem unfit for the public eye is deemed unfit for existence at all. In leadership, there is no place for cowardice.'

-An extract from traditional Havasian scriptures.

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MEMOIRS OF HAVAS

03

Wall Maria, North Region, Havas, Western O'Haen

Three months soon passed. Havas was far into the last month of the year. But, the cold height of winter was not always a bad thing, at least in Havas.

Winter meant Yuletide celebration; it meant skating and ice music and traditions long held. The northern lights would dance in the sky, ethereal above Larken's Peaks. Yule was a candle in the blistering cold— a light in midwinter that everyone anticipated.

But that day had not always been so merry. Two years ago, on the night of Yule, it had not been the northern lights which had danced upon Larken's Peaks, but the flame of the Bervik manor set alight.

Today, two years ago, tragedy had struck, leaving Lorelai alone with her family's legacy. Her parents had passed into the pages of memory, and she had become the last of the Bervik line.

"Loretskaia!" Tamsin called from the other room, shaking Lorelai from her thoughts. "Are you dressed yet? We're going to be late!"

Lorelai stared at herself in the mirror. It was custom to wear traditional clothes on the night of Yule.

She wore a finely embroidered coat that stretched to her ankles, hanging in ruffles and pleats. Its colour shone blood-red in the lamplight, stained with priceless dyes extracted from Havasian geyser pools and hot springs. The headwear formed a fur cap stitched into two horn-like shapes which curved down and around her face.

Many might say this type of dress-up was outdated; it was the year 823, after all, but not Lorelai. She'd always liked fancy clothes, and looking at herself now, she had never felt so Havasian.

Tamsin came into the room and smiled warmly. "You look lovely, dear."

"Tamsin, do I really have to wear this hat?" Lorelai complained, fiddling with the silly looking thing.

She smacked her hand away. "Oh, hush. You are growing up, my love. It is only proper that a noble lady wear traditional garb," Tamsin said, fitting her own traditional headwear over her floor-length braids.

They watched themselves in the mirror.

"It's Yule, Loretskaia," Tamsin whispered, squeezing Lorelai's arm. "Let's go have some fun; forget all that awful business two years ago, alright?"

Lorelai nodded, and they went downstairs to meet the men of the house. Romero gave a low whistle at Tamsin's appearance; she smiled and kissed his cheek.

Little Gabriel had been excused from traditional wear, but he was content to wear his best coat. He grinned and put his arms around Lorelai's legs.

"What?"

"Pretty." He gave her a toothy grin.

They soon hurried out the door with Tamsin and Romero.