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"Run back a bring up a bolt of the pale blue." His father said quietly, pushing Isaak towards the wagon at the back of their booth. Isaak glanced at the women buying the richly colored fabric and felt himself blushing. There were two women, one older and one younger. The younger was very pretty, with curly hair and a gentle face. And she was watching him. Isaak smiled at her shyly and pulled up the blanket covering the material, scanning them until he found the pile with 'pale blue' pinned on top. Lifting the bolt, Isaak carefully carried it to his father, smiling again at the girl.
Running a hand through his short, curly black hair, Isaak crouched down and scratched Cerise, knowing she wanted out of the Clan and back onto their small plot of land where she could run wherever she pleased. Isaak couldn't blame her. He, too, felt like a caged animal at the fair, surrounded by all the people and animals and houses. If he'd been an aifre, his hackles would have been up. As it was, his dark black eyes darted about in fear, and he stood on the balls of his feet, ready to sprint in any direction.
"Dragoners coming later in the day." The old woman was saying as she dug around in a small purse for coins.
"Bringing wares?" Isaak asked quietly, remembering the fine things the dragoners had brought on other occasions.
"Not sure, boy. Searchers coming, though. Not sure if searchers will bring wares, or just take some."
Isaak pondered the old woman's words as she wandered away, but was brought back to the booth when two younger women approached the table, purses ready and mouths set. Isaak grinned. He loved haggling.
"Can I help you?" He asked, brushing imaginary dirt off some of the fabric. One of the women frowned slightly.
"We're here to buy some material. That dark purple, and some black." The other woman said, laying a hand gently on her companion's arm and shaking her head. It was better not to aggrevate people you were about to wares from, Isaak had found. Obviously, this woman knew it as well.
"Dark purple and black." Isaak said with a nod, moving around his father and reaching the wagon in a matter of strides. Cerise lay down with an audible sigh to watch him. Isaak smiled at her and started sifting through the piles. The wagon was crowded, as was their booth. Isaak and his father were not small men, by any means. They both stood around six feet tall, and both were built like huntsmen; strong and wide. His father pushed him over to grab at a 'blue' bolt, and Isaak found himself staring at three materials, all without labels.
"Da," he said softly, lifting the bolts slightly so his father could see them.
"A moment." He rumbled in his deep bass voice, and Isaak sighed irritably. The women were looking more upset by the second, and Isaak studied the materials before picking up the two darkest. He moved uncertainly towards the front of the booth and laid them out for inspection. One of the women curled her mouth in distaste, snorted, and moved away. The other frowned and crossed her arms.
"I asked for black and dark purple, not brown and blue." She said softly, looking at him with an upraised brow.
"What's wrong, trapper, color-blind?" Her companion snapped, coming back to stand by the woman in front of Isaak and sneering at him.
Isaak stood with his mouth open, no sounds coming out of his mouth. His father, sensing trouble, scooped the offending material out of sight and returned a few seconds later with the black and dark purple. He finished the sales with the woman, both of them eyeing Isaak uncertainly. Isaak heaved a sigh.
"Sorry lad." His father said, eyeing Isaak himself, though for a different reason. "Had to finish with Madame Avery. You know how picky she is when she's interrupted."
"Yeah, I know." Isaak said bitterly, tossing a bolt of material back on the wagon and sitting on the edge unhappily, eyeing the worn labels with visual contempt.
"Ease up on yourself, lad. Not your fault the labels fell off. I probably removed them myself at some point. They're back on now."
"It's not that." Isaak said tightly, running his hand through his hair again grinding his teeth. Cerise whined and placed a silky head on his lap, licking his hand and wagging her tail at him. Scratching her half-heartedly, Isaak stared at the people wandering around their booth, commenting on the colors. His jaw creaked from the pressure.
"Take a break," his father said, pushing him off the wagon and out from behind the booth, pressing a couple of coins into his hand. "Take Cerise for a run, buy your mother something pretty, or that girl, and be back for lunch when I need to run."
Isaak whistled and tapped his leg, and Cerise ran straight at him, her tongue lolling as she whined and danced around his feet. "I have to walk, Cerise." He said through clenched teeth, pushing her off to one side gently and taking long strides down the curvy street, looking at other's wares and wondering what to spend the coins on. There was a dance in the evening, and Isaak's mother and sister would be in for it, but that was in the evening. It was only mid-morning, and the coins were getting heavy in his hand.
He spent the first one on food, much to the baker's delight and amusement. Isaak was a big man, and needed his food. The baker obviously hadn't seen a man Isaak's size eat before.
The second he kept in his pocket. Cerise whined up at him, tugging at his pants with sharp teeth. He ruffled her fur and headed to the edge of the houses, looking around to make sure there were no children or parent's Cerise would be scaring as she teared around the grass. Waving his hand with a soft "go", Cerise went. Her cream fur glistened in the light, and Isaak smiled to see her run around in wild circles, diving at anything that moved.
"She's very pretty." A woman's voice said softly beside him. Isaak jumped and turned to smile at a short, robust-looking woman. He wasn't sure, but he thought she might have some gray in her tightly bound hair.
"She's a pain." Isaak said affectionately. The woman smiled at him and nodded.
"If ever a woman wants to know a man, she looks at how he treats animals, and his own mother." She said softly, almost too soft for Isaak to hear, but he had long ears.
"Cerise," he called out, wondering where the aifre had gotten herself off to. She darted over a small hill and looked at him, tail wagging, tongue lolling, and was gone again. The woman smiled again, and nodded.
"You're Isaak, the trapper's boy." She said suddenly, grinning up at him, obviously pleased that she had been able to place him. Isaak nodded, waiting for her to go on. She said nothing more, however, just stood by him, watching Cerise and the sun, and the way the grass bent in the wind.
"Tell me what it looks like." Isaak said softly, turning pleading eyes to her. She looked at him in surprise, and quickly her face softened and she nodded. Isaak closed his eyes.
"The sky is blue as any day, I suppose. Pale blue, lightening to white as it nears the horizon. If you look as far as the eye can see, the trees and grass all melt together to form a deep greeny-gold blanket. The grass around us is a rich forest green, dark and light at the same time. There are little yellow and purple flowers at the bases of the trees, and then there's your Cerise, her cream-colored coat catching the sun like a piece of shiny metal. The tree trunks are mostly an oak, a soft creamy-brown, though there's a few darker, more chocolate-like colored trunks around. The leaves are a paler green than the grass, and when the sun hits them, they look ever paler, almost gold at times." She paused for breath, sighing, and Isaak could see her smile. "Every time I do this with you, I realize how much I take my sight for granted."
"Thank you." Isaak said, opening his eyes to look upon the various shades of gray his world consisted of. "I should get back to my father's booth."
"Of course." She said with a nod, patting his cheek gently and smiling at him.
"Cerise, let's go!" He called, and the aifre bounded over a hill to walk by his side, a dance in her steps as she pounced on rocks and pebbles as quickly as small bugs and leaves. His father was looking anxious to leave when he arrived, and was gone without a word. Isaak looked with dismay at the material on the table in front of him and bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to discern what color was what.
"I'll take some red." An older woman said, waving her hand in the general direction of the red she must want. Isaak nodded and turned to pick up the knife to cut the material, then turned to her and smiled.
"Now, which color will it be?"
"The red, lad. The red." She said, waving again and making Isaak grind his teeth again.
A young woman appeared then, gently touching one of the bolts and looking at him importantly. Isaak sighed gratefully and picked it up, much to the older woman's disgust. Isaak couldn't help but feel she wanted him to have to ask her for help. He cut the material almost jaggedly and packed it and handed over the bag, taking her money without another word to her. She sniffed as she hurried away, and Isaak turned to thank the woman, frowning when he couldn't find her.
Cerise growled by his feet, and attacked his toes, which made Isaak dance around and brought a small group of spectators to watch him try and escape the aifre's notice, but the booth was once again bustling with activity and the mysterious woman was pushed from Isaak's mind.
His father returned somewhere in the middle of the rush of women, taking over the table so Isaak didn't have to remember which color was which, and Isaak sat down on the wagon, wiping his forehead with the back of his large hand and sighing as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
"Supper and dance soon, boy." His father said, poking Isaak with a toe and grinning down at him, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I suspect you'll be needing something to eat afore the dance, seeing how popular you were last time."
Isaak muttered something under his breath about it not being his fault, and his father laughed, a deep, booming sound straight from his gut.
"Not your fault, lad? Shards, I suppose you're blaming it on your mother's and mine genes."
"May as well. Good a place as any to lay blame." Isaak said with a grin, rising to his feet and looking down when his stomach rumbled audibly.
"Go buy something to eat, and let Cerise run around some more. She'll not like being around all those people tonight, and I'll close up on my own. Meet you at the dance square later tonight."
Isaak took the coins and bolted, happily tasting foods from various merchants before they closed up. As he reached the field again, with a sandwhich in one hand and a mug of water in the other, Isaak leaned against a building and watched Cerise run off. She wouldn't be back before they were ready to go, and so Isaak turned and walked slowly to the dance square. Men and women were clearing it, setting up tables and benches along the outside, and Isaak stayed in the shadows to finish his food. He didn't feel like being recruited for help just yet.
"A hand, sir?" A woman's voice asked, and Isaak turned just in time to catch a large pile of decorations from a woman's arms as they tumbled from her grasp. "Thanks."
"'ere'd ou ike 'em?" Isaak asked around a mouth full of bread. The woman smiled up at him, chuckled, and led him towards the edge of the square near the raised platform where musicians would be performing. Isaak waved at a couple of friends, promising to catch up with them later, and found himself hanging decorations.
Flaming woman. He thought bitterly, taking utmost care to hang the decorations properly. The woman returned once to tell him that was fine, thanks for the help, and Isaak found himself waiting again.
"Hunter, you must have grown a foot since you were last in for the fair." One of Isaak's friends said. Isaak swung at him, playfully, and the two wrestled for a brief moment before an old woman marched over and threatened to whoop them all like toddlers if they weren't going to behave.
"Hunter." Isaak said with a shake of his head. His friends had so named him for his quiet ways, his stealthy movements, and his sharp eyes. He may be color-blind, but he could see farther than most people without even trying.
"Aye, Hunter. And we need you tonight. Speed couldn't make it, so we have no one to play the bass." Another of them said, and Isaak could feel the snares tightening around his neck.
"Come on," he began, but the other cut in.
"Your night off...."
"All the pretty women...."
"Dancing and drinking and finding a dark alley, aye, we know." Zomba said with a shake of his long, braided hair. "We're up third." He said, and they all knew Isaak would be there. Isaak shook his head as well, wondering how he got messed up with the likes of them.
The first group was quickly up, and Isaak found himself waltzing and hopping and jigging, each time with a different girl, each time his feet fumbling as they flirted with him. He was happy to pull away as the second group arrived, and went to find Zomba and the group to warm up.
"What's up?" He asked, referring to the music they would be playing. He quickly tuned the large bass he had, strumming the strings deftly with his large fingers, and making his friends grin as he smiled and shook his head.
"Whatever we feel like." Zomba said, clapping Isaak on his wide shoulder and moving over to unpack a harp his girl played. Isaak and the others quietly went through a few pieces, and Isaak quickly re-learned the parts he'd forgotten while out trapping.
"We're up." Zomba said happily, and the six of them lugged their stuff onto the stage, to scattered applause for the last group. Isaak looked around, feeling eyes on his back, and shook his head. He was on the stage, why wouldn't people be watching him?
The crowd was just reaching the maximum numbers. Zomba and his group were well known for their lively and tasteful music, but an old woman warned them to keep it clean as they prepared for the first piece. Isaak grinned at their drummer, and he counted them off, Isaak starting a steady beat. Thum, wait, thum, thum, thum, wait, thum, thum. And so they were off. Isaak found himself smiling as more instruments joined him, weaving an intricate pattern of melodies and harmonies. A girl Isaak hadn't met was singing for them, and she had a voice sweet as any he'd heard. Zomba joined her now and again, and Isaak shook his head, but continued his thumming.
Sweat was trickling down his back by the time they were bodily thrown off the stage. The next group was looking irritable, and the crowd got slightly hostile, still calling out requests. Isaak quickly put the bass away, hoping for a drink and some more dances before they had to go. The group clapped him on the back and shook his hand, thanking him for helping them out. Isaak smiled and nodded, thanking them for the opportunity. He wove his way through the thinning crowd, noticing it was mostly younger people still out, and smiled as he paid for a drink and sat down on a bench next to a couple of people he didn't recognize.
"That was some nice playing." The man said, leaning across the woman and grinning at him.
"I'm a little rusty." Isaak said, an understatement considering he hadn't played for almost half a year.
"It was well done." The woman said with a smile of her own, and Isaak suddenly recognized her face.
"The woman from the booth. You pointed out the red material for me. Thanks!"
"Not a problem. That woman was intent on giving you a hard time." She said with another smile, this one playful and sly. "Couldn't let her get away with that."
"Still, thanks." Isaak said, looking at them out of the side of his eye and wondering why their clothing seemed out of place. It seemed....formal.
"I don't mean to prod," he began, but the man cut him off.
"You're wondering what we're doing here and who we are." He said with a nod, leaning back in his place and grinning at Isaak, who nodded once, a small frown creasing his brow.
"I just don't recognize you."
"Nor would you. We've never been here before, and we should be at the Healing Den, considering those eggs are probably hatching as we speak," the woman said, shooting a deadly glare at the man, "but he couldn't say no to a good old party."
"The Healing Den?" Isaak asked. He could feel his ears prick at the mention.
"Aye. We're searchers, and we should be there to see those we've searched bond." The man said, then shrugged. "And I doubt they're hatching as we speak."
Suddenly both of them laughed, and Isaak's frown deepened. "Our dragons have informed us that they are shaking. And we should be going."
Isaak felt a pang that they would be leaving, and stood when they did, shaking their hands and biding them a good journey back. The woman stopped then, and turned to look at him again. She seemed to be having a silent argument with someone, or something, and it seemed she won.
"Care to join us?" She asked, her mouth twisting in a grin when Isaak's mouth dropped open. "I know it's short notice, but..."
"I think you want to come." The man said, filling the silence when the woman didn't say anything more.
"I don't know." Isaak said with a frown, looking at his parent's and sister, out on the dance square. "There's just, my family and our trapping...."
"I really think you should come." The man said, frowning a little himself and shaking his head. "I don't know how we missed you before, but if you hurry, we can probably get you there in time to see most of the hatching."
A shiver ran down Isaak's spine and he held up a finger to the searchers, running through the dancer's to grab his parent's in a hug. "I'll come visit when I can, and I'll be back before you know I'm gone."
His mother looked from the searchers to Isaak, a sad smile crossing her aging face, and his father cleared his throat and frowned at his son.
"I suppose we could get along..."
"Oh, Per, we'll do fine." His mother said, elbowing his father in the ribs and making him grunt in discomfort. His father smiled and winked at him.
"Thanks." Isaak said, hugging them again and running back to the searchers. Cerise slipped along the edge of the crowd, and sat, whining, at his feet. Isaak picked her up in his arms, refusing to leave her behind, and grinned at the searchers.
"What are we waiting for?" He asked happily. "We have a hatching to get to."
Isaak is a bonder at the Healing Den Cerise is from Tavrobel Cove on Lantir-setia | ||||||||||||||