a/n: hey, thanks for checking out Starry Veins! This is the novel I
wrote for Round V of LMS, and it's still a first draft! While I don't
discourage any feedback, I prefer not to receive feedback on grammar!
I'm not polishing this draft up yet, so I'm not as concerned about
editing. I am, of course, open to all feedback, but I ask that you keep
this in consideration! Thanks <3
*
“This
is hopeless.”
Tanzer
smiled brightly and held out his hand. On the floor, her skirts
akimbo around her, shirt falling partially off her shoulder, and dark
ginger hair spilling out of her bun, Adelaide glared up at him. Music
washed around them like running water, lilting and swift, the
sweetest notes played quickly and expertly. Allegro.
Dulce.
“Nonsense,”
he said. “I used to be just like you! Two left feet. Couldn’t
dance to save my life. But here we are!” He glided across the
floor, twirling and leaning into the movements, up on his toes and
then swooping down into a bow. His hair, pulled back into a bun,
tickled the back of his neck.
He
usually loved letting it down, but it was humid and hot and their
beautiful, open porches with glistening, lacquered bamboo was doing
nothing to stifle the heat. Thank the Sea for the shade under the
canopy though. His hair was too thick for this kind of weather.
“It’s
true,” Dove chirped, sitting on the floor at the edge of the porch,
leaning on one of the bamboo support beams. “He used to step on my
toes all
the times during these kinds of dances.” She tilted her head. “But
then he wanted to start impressing Kaian, and asked Mama for
lessons.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I was perfect always, of
course.”
Adelaide
rolled her eyes. “Of course, you were, you’re perfect at
everything.”
She huffed and ignored his hand, picking herself back up off the
floor. “We’ve been at this for hours, Tanzer, I’m tired of
this. I hate dancing.”
He
rolled his eyes. “Rude.”
“You
should get used to it,” Dove said. She put the book she had resting
on her knees facedown in her lap, throwing one long, slender leg over
the other. “Dancing is the biggest custom here.”
“I
know,”
Adelaide groaned. “But can’t I do something else more
interesting? Like visit the sailors, or learn how to navigate a ship?
That sounds like so much more fun! Imagine visiting the mainland!”
Tanzer
sighed and waved his hand, gesturing towards the seashell on the
painted table beside them. “Silentium,”
he said, and the seashell went quiet, the music fading away. “Ada,
come on. Just for the High Sun festival. It’s important we put our
best foot forward for this ceremony.”
“Besides,
Mama’s been to the mainland. Says it’s boring and stuffy. The
other kingdoms are full of themselves. They have hereditary
monarchy.”
Dove scoffed. “Can you imagine being ruled by someone just because
someone pretentious and arrogant had popped them out?”
“Well
it doesn’t matter for you,”
Adelaide grumbled towards Dove, irritably. “You’re so beautiful
and good at everything that you’ll probably win the next tournament
for Shepherd anyway.”
Dove
approached Adelaide to tug her hair out of its ribbon. Adelaide
squawked and tried to duck from her grasp but Dove already had years
of experience wrangling little siblings and scraggly children under
her belt and caught Adelaide without issue. She began to braid
Adelaide’s hair.
“I
need to teach you how to sound genuine when you’re complimenting
someone, because you said something very nice to me just then but you
made it sound like an insult,” Dove said as she worked.
Adelaide
shot him a hopeful look and mouthed help.
He
held up his hands. “Who am I to interfere with them? Their power
far
exceeds mine. Rule of older siblings and all that.”
“Ugh,”
Adelaide groaned. “You’re useless.”
“Harsh.”
Dove
tugged on Adelaide’s hair. “Don’t be rude to your brother. Or
me.” She tied the ribbon around the end of the thick braid of
Adelaide’s hair, frizzy and much coarser than her own, and gave it
a tug.
A
patter of footsteps against the soft dirt path turned Tanzer’s
attention around and when they had spun, they found Laila hopping up
onto the porch. Her auburn hair was tied back with a cloth, and she
was shucking her smock off at him.
“Your
shift’s on at the orphanage. Mama wants you to run storytime, the
kids like you best,” she said. “Is Da home?”
“Ran
down to the docks to paint that ship they’re working on,” he
said. “But Papa’s in. He’s working on the garden out back. You
know, his prize vegetables for the High Sun Festival.”
Laila
shook her head, but she was smiling. “His prize vegetables. Dove,
Bee’s asking about you again. Buy them flowers, for Storm mercy’s
sake, they’re dying for a response.” And without another word,
Laila disappeared in a flurry of skirts inside, door clattering
behind her.
He
unravelled the bunched-up smock Laila had thrown at him. “Well,
that’s me then. Ada, why don’t you go find Da down at the docks
and show him the new steps.”
The
joy and placation of getting to see the new ship being built must
have been more than enough to sway her, because Adelaide grinned and
leapt off the porch without bothering to grab shoes or use the
stairs, and took off down the street.
Dove
was looking carefully composed, but her lips were pinched in a way
that he knew meant she was trying not to smile. Her skin was too dark
to see her blush easily, but if she moved into the sun, she’d be
glowing.
“Laila’s
right. Buy Bee flowers. Amarie’s are the best.” Then, without
waiting for some smart or sneaky—or the worst, embarrassed—response
from his sister, he took off down the street in the opposite
direction as Adelaide.
Dove
shouted something at him from a distance, and the ribbon tying his
hair back came undone. He laughed as his hair billowed out behind
him, the fawn-pale ends of his hair fading from the black catching
gold from the sun overhead.
The
High Sun Festival was Tanzer’s favourite celebration of the year
for many, many reasons. The dances that went on for hours
each of the five days were full of energy that buzzed through the
crowds in waves. There was lively, jaunty dances, and slower dances
to sway to. They could raucous and sweet and melodious and everything
in between.
And
all the food.
The wonderful, homemade cooking brought as a communal setup, fresh
meals and baked goods eat day. And it all wafted through the air,
overpowering the saltwater tang that normally filled the breeze from
the ocean that was never far away.
And
the firelights everywhere. Some spaces doused in the warm orange glow
of bonfires or torches, while others were cast in the ethereal blue
of magefire.
Plus,
everyone
from the island attended. Or most everyone. It was his chance to talk
and catch up and made find some who were as easy to talk to as they
were on the eyes. Plus, Mama always brought all the kids from her
orphanage to the festival, and there was nothing more special than
the way their faces lit up at all the sweets and cheer.
If
Dove was going to be the most charismatic and beautiful of the
family, she was going to have to work
for it. He wasn’t going to let her have it easily.
And
if his birthday was at the tail end of the festival? Well…
The
bushes and palm fronds were rustling in the seawater breeze as he
approached the orphanage. Muscata’s
Flock
read the painted sign outside, each letter slightly dilapidated by a
child’s jarring handwriting, with an assortment of clashing, bright
colours. A few kids hand put painted handprints on the sign, while
others had drawn a butterfly, a tree, a sun, and in one case, an
impressive depiction of a steering wheel.
He
pushed open the swinging doors and found the foyer empty. Inside,
however, he could hear the thunder of footsteps and squeals of
energised kids.
As
he stepped into the main plaza room, with all its floor-to-ceiling
shudders shoved open to the lovely breeze and elements from outside,
he spotted Mama sitting in the middle of the floor. Two children,
Nastagia and Palmerio, were attempted to paint her face with her
cosmetics kit. There seemed to be streaks of kohl over her cheek and
what was meant to go on her lips was on her eyelids.
“Zanner!”
someone, probably Savia, shrieked. And, like a torch being lit in the
dark, everyone stopped what they were doing and swarmed him.
He
scooped up the first two victims that got close to him and
immediately sagged under the weight. Savia, on his right hip,
immediately began to yank on his hair and inspect it, as though it
were different then last inspection. Venerio, the other, a quiet and
generally shy child tucked their head against Tanzer’s shoulder.
The others, more or less, tried to give him an en mass hug.
Mama
was watching him from her place on the floor with a smile, her warm,
honey-brown eyes crinkled in the corners. He grinned at her, and then
pressed kisses to both Venerio and Savia’s heads.
Savia
nodded at him in sage approval, and leaned forward to press a sloppy,
mushy kiss to his cheek. “Now put me down,” she said.
He
laughed. “As the Lady commands.” He obliged, and readjusted his
grip on Venerio, who had grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and was still
pressing firmly against Tanzer. “All right, well, you’re all
present and accounted for, which makes my job all the easier. Who’s
ready for story time?”
His
question was met with a chorus of cheers and enthusiastic air
punching, and a brilliant warmth blossomed in his chest. He loved
this.
word count:
1,597
Points: 29825
Reviews: 465
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