Jahrra grimaced. What a nightmare that would be.
Casting Torrell one more forlorn look, Jahrra stepped out into the bright sunshine to find Dathian and Senton, standing as far apart as possible, waiting for them. She bit her lip and tried to forget about what Torrell had said.
“What took you two so long?” Senton demanded, sounding piqued.
“Oh, you know us women,” Torrell announced, flapping her hand around in a very uncharacteristic manner, “and our joy of shopping. Had to check out the crystals one last time.”
Dathian rolled his eyes behind his glasses and Senton just stared. They strolled back up the street, Jahrra making a point to walk beside Senton with the hope of smoothing his ruffled nerves. It seemed to work because by the time they had reached the stables he was his cheerful, chatty self once again.
“So, tomorrow at noon in the plaza again, don’t be late,” Jahrra said from Phrym’s back.
“We’ll be there,” Dathian promised.
Jahrra tried to ignore the stiffening of Senton’s mouth at Dathian’s remark and the gleam of mischief in Torrell’s eyes. She merely gritted her teeth, bid them all farewell, and turned Phrym in the direction of the stables just below her home.
The next day dawned clear and bright with the cool promise of a chilly evening later on. Perfect weather for Sobledthe Eve, in Jahrra’s opinion. She ate her breakfast with Neira, since Jaax had left early on some Coalition errand or another, not to return until later that day. An hour before noon, Jahrra picked up her mask, a lovely rusty color with small glass beads and ribbons to add some glamour. She paired it with her dark brown, everyday trousers and one of her nicer tunics, the one that was closest in color to her mask. She decided to leave her hair down for once but grabbed a tie just in case it got in the way. Once dressed, she pulled on her boots, grabbed her simple brown cloak and called a farewell to Neira.
“I hope to see you out enjoying yourself tonight!” she called back as the small door shut behind her.
Jahrra took the path leading down the backside of the hill, only stopping briefly to give Phrym a pat and to show him her mask. After that, she hailed one of the many small coaches that meandered through the city and paid the driver a small fee. Jahrra was the first of her friends to arrive at the University plaza but Torrell, and then Senton, made an appearance. Senton was decked out in silver and grey to match his mask, Torrell in shades of violet. Dathian was last to arrive, looking somewhat formidable dressed all in black. Before too long the four of them had hired another coach and were being briskly swept towards the center of the great city.
“It’s where all the exciting action is,” Senton claimed, his mouth quirked in a grin.
Jahrra was glad to see his mood improved. As they got closer to their destination, the traffic grew more and more congested. Senton cursed under his breath and Dathian informed the driver they would be getting off on the next corner.
Jahrra gave Torrell an inquiring look but her friend just shrugged. “Might as well get out now. There’s a good tea shop a few blocks away and I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t eaten lunch yet.”
It seemed many people had the same idea about continuing their journey on foot, for all around them hired carriages were pouring out their occupants, many dressed in fine masks and costumes (despite Torrell’s insistence that only children wore such things in Lidien), and were making their way to the heart of the city.
A few blocks later Dathian stood aside and opened the door of a tiny little tea shop tucked away in one of the many nooks of Lidien Jahrra had come to love. Flower boxes sporting late autumn straw flowers and sweet peas adorned the building’s exterior and the worn stone façade was decorated with the colors of Sobledthe. A rickety old sign displayed the establishment’s name and soon the four friends were tucked into a table in the corner of the Cracked Teapot, enjoying salads and sandwiches and piping hot tea.
After lunch the four companions took to wandering, leisurely taking in the sights, sounds and scents of Sobledthe in the city. Jahrra found herself comparing her experience to the celebrations back home in Oescienne and discovered that although the traditions and costumes seemed similar, there was something a little more refined about the harvest festival in a big city.
Carved turnips and gourds with their candle hearts could still be found in front of doorsteps and on fence posts, and there was still the occasional child jumping out to scare his peers. Torrell also informed her that several citizens belonging to an elite society made it their personal goal to create the most realistic costumes of the evil denizens of Sobledthe, specifically to wear them the week of the Harvest Festival in order to add a more realistic touch.
“Nearly scared me out of my pants when I was ten,” Senton admitted with a grin. “I refused to go anywhere at night for weeks.”
Jahrra even saw an advertisement for a scavenger hunt, this one much more complex than the one she had taken part in those handful of years ago. This hunt required a smaller entrance fee but would encompass an area that would take them far out of the city limits, not an idea tempting to Jahrra. Funny, she mused as she read the rules for the hunt, only a few years ago I would be begging Torrell, Dathian and Senton to join me. But she wasn’t quite the same person she had been then and she had learned her lesson after all.
The smell of wood smoke and cider permeated the air and the laughter and screams of excited children and the exaggerated words of the storytellers were all around her, yet it wasn’t quite the same as the festival in Lensterans. Still very enjoyable, but not the same.
“Well, I’ve seen enough for now. Should we go check out the practice arena?” Torrell said with the air of someone who had seen too many Sobledthe celebrations.
“Practice arena?” Jahrra asked, pushing her mask up on her face.
Torrell grinned past the decoration on her own mask. “Didn’t you know? It’s the best part of Sobledthe! In the city’s main arena, not the piddly little one we practice in. They have open sparring matches and archery contests for anyone who wishes to enter. For the right fee, of course.”
Jahrra felt her blood begin to thrum. Forget the scavenger hunt. A sparring and archery competition? Oh, she could take part in that without too much worry of being kidnapped by masked strangers or hunted down by her childhood nemesis.
She grabbed Torrell’s arm and cried, “Which way?” through her mask.
The boys laughed and soon they were weaving their way towards the grand arena.
The stadium itself was about as large as Jahrra would expect and was actually tucked into the side of one of Lidien’s many hills. The stands rose up the hillside and gave the onlookers a panorama of the bay, as well as a view of the action below. The clash of steel and the grunt of men fighting met them before they could see anything. Once they climbed high enough Jahrra felt her knees go weak with awe. At least five separate competition circles were set up, along with an entire section put aside for archers.
“I want to try sword fighting and archery,” she said, the eagerness in her voice impossible to hide.
“Alright, let’s go enter then,” Dathian said, sounding quite enthusiastic himself.
The four of them managed to push through the crowd without causing too many hard feelings and were soon at the massive iron gates that barred entrance into the arena. As they waited in line, Jahrra glanced around in hopes to calm her nerves. Her heart nearly leapt out of her throat when she saw a familiar, looming figure in the distance.