The Lantern Festival [Lost Lamb x VonGentlemen]

[vongentlemen]

The sight of the Lantern Keepers hanging their glowing chains of paper lanterns from the tips of the Lantern Towers was considered to be the most important sight of the year, yet it currently rang empty. Each year survived in the land of dark was cause for celebration, a reaffirmation that the human spirit could triumph in spite of a hostile world. This festival in particular seemed doubly so, as it concluded a year free of altercations with the Iron Giants and howling predators that stalked the night beyond Haven’s walls. Tradition dictated that the celebrations would a last a fornight: an endless stream of festivity, hedonism, and debauchery that was likely to empty the pantries, coffers, and inhibitions of the city’s countless revelers.

Like the others of his land, Vayce had never seen the sun. Instead, he occupied a nameless land forever consumed by the darkness. Against all odds, a small settlement named Haven survived and eventually blossomed into the metropolis of present age. While the countless carved stone faces that comprised the streets served as an ever-present reminder to the city’s traditions, the constant need for reaffirmation manifested into a massive celebration aptly dubbed ‘The Lantern Festival’.

Yet, for all the promised jubilation, Vayce felt little elation.

The nobleman had little desire for the tiring games of power that mired him to amplify in the presence of celebration. While others in the city’s many courts relished a chance to both elevate their status and engage in sin, he saw the entire affair as a testament to the shallow greed that mired the city’s noble courts. His birth likely contributed: Vayce wasn’t born into nobility; his only birthright had been a drunken mother and an increasingly overpowering reason to leave home. He was little more than a conscripted smith when he became one of few artisans to successfully forge tools from godsteel and soon found himself forced to deal with the machinations of high society. The nebulous nature of wealth meant that attempts to leave the political games facilitated by wealthy heirs would leave him both destitute and burdened with countless detractors.

For now, he would play their little games.

While Vayce oft found himself clad in the uncomfortable tunics and countless white straps that indicated nobility, his rough features betrayed his lowly birth. His olive skin was lightly adorned with scars and burns sustained during his conscripted days. A sharp jawline and intense brow were adorned with a mane of auburn hair that had been carefully tamed into a modest braid. The light indications of a beard were beginning to form, although Vayce couldn’t determine if he wished to shave. His garb was a mixture of regal and common: he wore a neat teal jerkin with padded shoulders and several white leather couplings along the limbs. Across torso lay a fur sash: a callback to his days tending to the forges.

At present hour, he was doing his best to avoid tending to his political duties. He had little doubt that the workers of his estate were bustling about in preparation for the countless feasts he would be obligated to supply. Countless carvings of seared beast meat and dried mushrooms stocked his cellars as his servants distilled potent poisons in anticipation of the inevitable slight.

Simply sitting streetside and watching the busy Lantern Keepers go about their business proved an adequate distraction for his turbulent mind. As his eyes surveyed the workers, he found himself drawn to the contours of their bodies. Something about the flickering of lanterns certainly embellished the curves of their bodies and the sways inherent in their walk. As his concealed flask wet his lips, he found himself idly walking about with a random crowd of merchants on the way to the market.

The celebrations were soon to be upon them.

 

[Lost Lamb]

No one had predicted such smooth sailing for the kingdom. There had been a strange absence of conflict amongst figureheads in addition to a successfully secured border. There had been no natural disasters to displace families which had also led to an overall increase of general wealth and population. They’d been blessed with good fortune, an odd occurrence for their dark world. It all added up to a festival that would likely produce more jubilance than any other in the preceding decades. As the hour drew nigh, a low hum of excitement developed as the crowds grew larger.

Right down to the last minute, Aliya would be working. The daughter of a seamstress was a title that entitled very few opportunities for rest and relaxation. As opportunistic as her family was, the festival’s siren song was far too alluring to keep the doors open for business. In the days leading up to this very evening they worked tirelessly making alterations, taking special orders, and hand sewing their own silken lanterns for souvenirs. It was a life of labor, but fairly simple. It wasn’t often anyone worth the gossip graced them with their presence; the wealthier clients all seemed to have house servants that kept track of their measurements and simply served as a courier.

Every year she made herself a new outfit for the opening ceremony and with all the extra wealth spreading around from a prosperous year, Aliya could finally afford the materials to make a dress worth talking about; something stylish enough to fool even the wealthiest of nobles that she came from somewhere remarkable. The struggle was to create something based loosely off of a warrior’s armor while managing cut outs that would flatter her curves. After months of designing and weeks of sewing, Aliya finally had the dress of her dreams. It fit like a glove, and tonight she was wearing it.

There was one last delivery required before the festivities began. Packing up the last of their lanterns, the girl donned her outfit before styling her hair and makeup. Her features were akin to a figurine. Heart-shaped face laid the foundation for wide hazel eyes and gently curved brows. Baby doll cheeks were framed by massive waves of lengthy, dark curls which tickled gently at her shoulder blades. The natural curve of her lips fell remained a natural pout, though she was easily swayed to smile or grin with even the most casual of conversation.

Well over-dressed for her last delivery, she locked up the shop without any intention of returning for the night. Within moments she was among the ever-growing crowds that had begun mulling about. What was usually a five minute walk had effortlessly transformed into a twenty minute commute, but she was patient. Large tote in tow, she bore her final burden with far more grace than expected.

Aliya had no idea what this year’s festival held in store, but she was more than willing to welcome whatever may come.

 

[vongentlemen]

Vayce sauntered the streets with random crowds, occasionally buying rounds of drinks for passerbys in an attempt to avoid the responsibilities that awaited him back at the manor. In time, the preemptive celebration within homes and taverns began to slowly draw the crowds away from the streets, leaving with relatively few excuses. With a defeated sigh, he downed one more drink from a local vendor before finally making his way back home.

Every time he passed through the gates, Vayce found himself wondering if he was dreaming. He had spent most of his life in hovels and barracks, so the manor that expanded before him still felt unreal. It had been built rather recently and gifted to him after he had made a firm impression on some minor prince, and each day was one of relative luxury. The building features three floors that each featured countless rooms, complete with a garden illuminated by numerous glowing fungi. A Lantern Tower had been built close by, ensuring that the grounds never wanted for beautiful arrays of flicking light.

The entrance sat at the end of a winding path that crossed two metal bridges over small streams of a misty water. At Vayce’s orders, the white pines that had dotted the path upon construction had been uprooted and replaced with thickets of arrayed stone lanterns. Each walk made the path feel ethereal, as if it would fade once he reached the end.

Most of the every evening was spent simply delegating countless inane tasks to the countless hirelings that assisted in the estate’s day-to-day operations. The evening feast begun preparation and several servants ducked away to the marketplace in hopes of securing some unclaimed bottles of liquor before guests arrived. Lanterns were hung from the banisters and balconies as a massive paper façade of an Iron Giant was erected in the foyer, complete with a display of some of Vayce’s old smithing.

As his house transformed evermore into a façade of luxury, Vayve was content to simply sit in the front garden and take measured huffs off of his fernleaf pipe. His gaze was once again drawn the Keepers of the nearby tower, and seemingly intentional waggles of their hips prompted him to punctuate with especially long drags of the pipe’s smoke.

 

[Lost Lamb]

The growing numbers of celebrating crowds were beginning to look enticing. Spirits were purchased and passed, cheering was becoming a common occurrence, and it was growing difficult to avoid being drawn in by eager partygoers looking for partners to celebrate through dance. Luckily she was able to turn off the main path and head down a residential street in search of the proper address for her delivery. The lanterns were cumbersome even before they were expanded; it was a rather large order that had been placed only a few days prior. Approaching what was assumed to be the correct house, Aliya had to pause at the great estate’s presence.

In an awed silence, her eyes flicked over the structure as if it was fine art. Even with the decorations still in assembly, it gave a great impression.

After lingering for such a lengthy period of time, she had drawn the attention of a guard who approached in a strangely formal manner. He addressed her as ‘Miss’ and politely asked if she needed any assistance. Bewildered, she explained her delivery and was sweetly granted entrance to the property and to head towards the main entrance. It wasn’t until the gate was cleared that she recalled her own state of dress. It was impressive to see how strangers based their approach on something as simple as an outfit. Emboldened, she began to trek along the path to the entrance of the manor.

How alien it felt to bask in such light outdoors. Sure, there were always working levels of illumination for everyday life, but when the Festival began, the additional lanterns added a warmer glow to the surroundings the no other holiday or party could compare to. With her world draped in a gentle blanket of warm tones, the familiar hunger for excitement and good company began to seep through her veins. She was excited. Picking up the pace, her heels offered sharp taps along the metal bridges, making her approach blatant.

The closer she drew the clearer it became just how few party guests had yet to arrive. A calming hush remained in the garden, pulling her farther from the rest of the world. It was as if she was transported to an entirely new world; surrounded by decorative fungi and immaculately designed décor. If she did get a glimpse of the interior, Aliya mentally made a promise that she wouldn’t dawdle and stare similarly at the gate. Distracted by the house, the decorations, and her own mental preparation, she completely missed the gentleman in the garden. The scent of his ringlets of smoke was processed, though there was no attempt made to register a source.

 

[vongentlemen]

The sound of footsteps on the garden path didn’t catch Vayce’s attention until several moments after Aliya entered his sight. Her garb was a curious one: a dress that suggested status far beyond someone who appeared to be in the midst of delivery. The outfit accentuated the appealing curves in her body that Vayce found himself musing on other topics for a few moments, seemingly unaware that the package was intended for his estate. Only as she began to walk past did he call for her attention. She had an interesting enough air that he preferred to interact with her directly instead of simply subjecting her to the logistical chaos of the manor’s interior.

“Good morrow!” he yelled in attempt to get her attention as he took one more huff from his pipe and emerged from his seat within the foliage. She seemed equally as surprised to see him as he had been to see her. “You need not venture inside, I can take that for you.” He offered as he approached her. As Vayce extended his arms to take the package, he realized it likely still needed payment. After fishing through his pockets, Vayce let out a grumble as he realized that the contents of his coin purse had been largely spent on the countless drinks he had gifted earlier in the afternoon.

It appeared she would be venturing into the manor after all.

“Most unfortunate. If you can forgive a bit of a diversion, I’m certain that your payment is waiting inside.” He noted before offering to carry the package and gesturing up the hill to the estate’s ornate doors. As the two began to venture up the path, he found himself curious of the female’s agenda. “Given a dress like that, I assume you’re on your way to festivities, correct?” He inquired. “What sort of celebration awaits you on this fine night?”

 

[Lost Lamb]

Having assumed that she was alone during the approach to the front entrance, an offered greeting drifting from her periphery offered quite the startle. Her stride faltered before sliding into a halt, allowing for an in-depth observation of her surroundings. There, practically before her, a stranger began to rise. It was a wonder how he could have possibly been missed in the first place.

Despite the fact that she was still technically on the clock, his offer to carry the burden of the parcel was far too tempting to deny. “How noble, thank you.” Her painted lips curved to a coy smile while relinquishing her grasp. While searching for payment, Aliya took a moment to take her own personal stock of his outfit. Mildly perplexed, it was rather difficult to pin his role in the estate; perhaps a friend to the master of the house? It wasn’t often she saw an outfit mixing formalities, especially at the first welcoming reception of the festival. Noting his realization to a lack of funds, her eyes turned back to the front doors. It wasn’t common to be invited into the actual address of her delivery, specifically regarding the wealthier clients.

How fortuitous! She would finally get to see the interior of a manor.

A small nod was offered as a response before they both turned and continued their approach. Her gaze bore into every window they passed, attempting to gain some sort of insight as to what she would be able to expect. Once again, his voice pulled her from her mental preparations. “Hm? Oh, yes indeed.” With a voice like honey, she proceeded. “I never plan my festival. I prefer to let it guide me. I think that’s the only way to truly embrace the spirit of it all.”

While Aliya appreciated the compliment to her outfit, she wasn’t about to go instantly blathering on about the personal intricacies of her life. Even more so now that she had earned an invitation, however brief, to enter a mansion. “What of yourself? Are you expected here tonight?” She was trying so desperately to sound casual. It wasn’t often she was able to rub elbows with a possible noble or well to do financier.

 

[vongentlemen]

"You're a brave one." Vayce chuckled as she followed in his footsteps. "I've come to find that such nights oft spur the most unexpected of outcomes." Each of his words was laced with only the slightest tinge of a teasing purr. While their status placed them worlds apart, Vayce instinctively saw the girl as his equal. Despite becoming a man of means, he still instinctively empathize drastically more with the workers and other artisans of the city.

Vayce took in a deep breath of air in attempt to inoculate himself against the numerous stresses that no doubt awaited him inside the manse. No sooner had he opened the doors that he found himself confronted by a small array of servants, each with countless inane logistical questions about the functions of the night. With a wave, Vayce dismissed the servants in hopes that their inherent autonomy would eventually lead to matters of presentation being resolved without the need for his input.

The foyer, while in a state of flux, still served as an excellent prelude to the manor's complex architecture. Countless lanterns hung carefully from strings while arrays of tallow candles burned at the base of a bronzed Iron Giant skeleton. Ornamental shields hung from the walls, many serving as platforms for further strings of lanterns. Vayce began to embark up the grans staircase and gestured for the guest to follow him. In lieu of having to deal with pulling funds from the home's treasury, he would simply pay her from his own purse and reconcile the difference later.

"They tell me I'm expected to attend. I'm of half a mind to put that to the test." He joked as he lead her through the upstairs hallways towards his two-tiered bedroom where his coinpurses were kept.